In the days and week following Pride and their first time together, Brittany had been extra attentive to Santana, not even bothering to try and peel her off of her when Santana clung, knowing, even if they weren't talking or really doing much of anything, Santana just needed to feel her, to feel the warm and softness of her body, to hear her heart thumping as she rested her head against her chest, to sort through her thoughts and think things over while simultaneously being reassured that she was in the safest place she could possibly be, tucked away in Brittany's arms. For the most part, they passed the rest of the weekend being lazy and watching movies, or at least half watching movies, knowing neither one was really paying attention. Brittany didn't speak too much, knowing she didn't need to- if Santana worked herself up about anything to the point of her own thoughts upsetting her, Brittany knew she'd say something. And, overall, Santana was calm, content to be as close to her as possible.
Brittany had intentionally not brought up the rehearsal, deciding to see if Santana would, knowing that if she didn't, they could go to another one later if Santana wasn't ready that weekend, following her lead. She'd been a little surprised when Santana did bring it up, quietly encouraging her, building her confidence while also reminding her that if she changed her mind that it would be okay, there would be other rehearsals they could go to. She knew that, although she'd never say it, even Kurt and Rachel's excitement and confidence in her helped, and Brittany knew that while Santana always preferred to be alone with Brittany over anything, it meant a lot to her to have other pillars of support and other friends who were excited for her, even if they sometimes didn't knew how to support Santana in the best way.
When Sunday rolled around, Brittany was intentional in pulling Santana into her arms in the morning light, knowing they didn't have to be there until noon and wanting to take their time together that morning, slow and easy, wanting to avoid any possible stress. There were some days Santana woke up slowly, confused and groggy, and some days where she startled into consciousness, alert and wide-eyed. And even though they'd been living together since before Christmas, Brittany sometimes saw a momentary dart of panic in her eyes, her body unsure of her surroundings for a split second, her gaze searching for Brittany's eyes, looking for home in them, for reassurance. Just like every morning, Brittany wrapped her arms around Santana's waist, pulling her against her body and peppering her face with kisses as they lay tangled in the sheets.
"Good morning," She hummed, kissing each of Santana's eyelids, "I love you," Brittany whispered instantly, her lips against Santana's forehead, snuggling her body close to her until she felt Santana's own body relax against her, "We're okay." Daily, depending on Santana's mood when she woke up, Brittany always murmured some type of reassurance, some type of reminder to steady her, letting her hear her voice and wake up calmly.
She took advantage of the time they had that morning, content to lay in the warmth and safety of their bed, giving Santana more time to lay in the warmth and safety of Brittany's arms. It was time Santana needed, time she needed to be okay throughout the day, and Brittany made a point to always give it to her, to shower her with affection and love right when she started her day and right before she went to sleep at night. She stayed close to Santana while they got ready, stepping back toward her whenever Santana whined, knowing she'd strayed too far or stepped into their bedroom while Santana was still in the bathroom. The entire morning, she'd pressed kisses to Santana's mouth and temples and forehead, slipping her arms around her waist, taking the brush out of Santana's hand and steadily brushing her hair for her after her shower, helping her dress in Brittany's own clothes.
As she got herself ready, Brittany clipped her own bra behind her, pulling a loose fitting white tee over her head, pulling her hair through the neck of the shirt, leaving it to fall loose down her back. For someone who was so spur of the moment usually, when it came to Santana, and, more specifically, situations that might upset her, Brittany was ritualistic. She didn't even have to think about what she was doing - choosing to wear a loose t-shirt - so that if Santana could grab the fabric of her shirt if she needed extra comfort, wearing her hair down - so Santana could hide her face if she needed to or run her fingers through it to distract herself if she was in Brittany's arms, being sure to spray her perfume on her clothes and under her ears - because she wanted Santana to be able to smell her perfume for further reassurance that she was safe, clipping her necklace on - because sometimes Santana rolled the chain between her thumb and her index finger to calm herself down. They were all minor, minuscule things that weren't out of the ordinary for any typical person, but Brittany went about them with intention, never certain that Santana would actually get upset, but doing everything she could to be ready to comfort her just in case.
She didn't even put up much of a fight when Santana only ate a few bites, knowing she was stressed, figuring she could coax her to eat more later, trying to make the morning as calm and comforting to her as possible. "It's okay, Babe," She mumbled as they sat together to eat, as they stood side by side brushing their teeth in the bathroom, later as they stood in the hallway while Brittany pulled the door shut and locked it. It was hot the moment they stepped outside, but she didn't comment about the hoodie that Santana wore, knowing better, knowing why she wanted it on. Brittany let her lean into her as they walked, her hand rubbing her side soothingly. "It'll be okay, San. We're going to go to rehearsal and no one will be there except us and Kurt and his band friends. No one will even come inside because the bar will be closed. We can sit together and just watch them rehearse and then we can go back home and lay on the couch together." She said, outing all the steps of their day even though they'd discussed it multiple times, what they would do, promising they'd go straight home after, assuring Santana that they'd lay together.
As the bar door came into view, Brittany felt Santana still beside her, turning her head to press a quick kiss to her temple before stepping forward, her hand still wrapped around Santana's upper arm. Brittany pulled the door open and stepped into the darkness first, turning around and using her foot to prop the door open so she could hold her other hand out for Santana, beckoning her forward.
"Come on, hon," She said, assuring Santana she knew she was afraid. "You know I'm right here and I won't let go of you," Brittany promised, knowing Santana did know that, but speaking it out loud always helped.
They stood there for a moment, a beat of silence, and Brittany had a flicker of fear that Santana really wouldn't go in and would tug Brittany back outside. However, when Santana lifted her chin resolutely and stepped through the threshold, Brittany beamed, wrapping her in her arms as the door thudded shut behind them.
Blinking, Brittany squinted, trying to get her eyes to adjust. The lights were on and there were windows, but bars were always so dark anyway. She took a step to the side of the door, tugging Santana with her, wanting to give her a moment to adjust and take everything in before they moved further inside. It very much looked and smelled like a bar, the smell of alcohol and cleaning products seeming to hang permanently in the air.
"Let's just stand here for a minute," Brittany whispered, lifting her head to seek out Kurt, further inside toward the little stage in the back. She brought one hand up to wave to him, giving him a thumbs up, letting him know they were okay, just needing a minute to themselves.
Santana had noticed and appreciated everything that Brittany did to help her and reassure her, everything from her constant touching her and speaking to her calmly to her patience with Santana's anxious movements and gestures. Santana hated when she felt this way, hated that it felt so necessary to cling, even if Brittany had never once seemed to mind or resent it, had never made her feel silly or weak or unreasonable about it. Nevertheless, in her own desire to be independent and strong, Santana judged herself harshly each time she slipped into this state of anxiety, even as she couldn't prevent herself from following through on her impulsive need to keep Brittany so close.
She heard Brittany's words of reassurance to her as they walked, and although she barely said anything back in response, the words nevertheless provided an inner mantra that helped regulate her just a bit. She repeated to herself silently the steps of their day, the facts of her safety, and tried to will her tense body and racing thoughts to believe them. It was so much more difficult than she felt it should be, because she knew, knew that Brittany never lied to her. Still, it felt so very hard to continue to act on her faith.
As they walked through the bar, Brittany still close, her arms around Santana, Santana's eyes squinted in the dim lighting of the bar's interior. There was nothing unusual or special about the place in any way- it was simply a bar, nothing more or less. It had no special theme in its décor, and it was clean, with the standard bar area, stools, and several small tables and chairs for people to hang out at. There was an area off to one side with a pool table, and in the back was a small stage, where Kurt, a blue-haired girl, and a guy with very dramatic eyeliner were adjusting mic stands, tuning instruments, and otherwise preparing for rehearsal.
It was very much in many ways like the bar Santana had worked in, minus the cheesy angel/devil decoration theme. And it carried much of the same scent of alcohol and cleaning materials. It was that familiar scent that made Santana freeze, sucking in her breath sharply, and press closer into Brittany's side, squeezing her hand until her knuckles whitened.
She didn't want these strangers, or even Kurt, to see the fear that had automatically and intensely shot through her just at the similar sight and smell of a bar's interior. She didn't want to seem weird or weak or different in any way, never mind her attire in the middle of the summer- it wasn't like Kurt's friends weren't a bit overly dressed for the weather too, although in a far more Rockstar manner. So she just stood with Brittany, trying to breathe, keeping tight hold of her hand, even as Kurt returned the wave cheerfully and called out to them.
"Hey Brittany, Santana! Come over and meet the band when you're ready!"
Brittany kept her hand in Santana's, her other arm wrapping around her and pulling her into her chest as they stood against the wall by the door, letting Santana adjust to actually being inside a bar before venturing further.
"I'm going to take these off," Brittany said, sliding her hand out of Santana's and reaching up to touch her sunglasses, keeping her arm around Santana's waist. "It'll be easier for you to see in here," She said, sliding her sunglasses off gently and tucking them in the pocket of her hoodie. She let her hand trail back up, tilting Santana's chin up to kiss her gently. "It's okay," She mumbled, seeing the fear and trepidation plainly in Santana's eyes. "I won't let anything happen to you." Brittany promised, sliding both arms around her.
"Hi Kurt, we'll be there in a second!" Brittany called with a smile, although she didn't move or push Santana forward, wanting her to have the opportunity to adjust a little and calm down, wanting her to be able to take in the site and smell and realize that no one was going to hurt her. As she held Santana, she shifted back and forth from her right foot to her left foot, her hands laced together behind Santana's back. Brittany could feel how tightly coiled all of Santana's muscles were, like she was ready to bolt at the slightest thing.
"Talk to me, Babe," Brittany instructed, wanting to know what was running through Santana's mind, her voice low, even though they were too far away for Kurt and the band to hear her, "We can stay right here for as long as you want." Brittany promised, not wanting Santana to feel like she was in a rush. "We also don't have to meet the band if you don't want to," She said through a smile.
They looked friendly enough, and if Kurt liked them, she knew they would too, but Santana had also hardly interacted with people she didn't know in recent months, which Brittany knew was understandable. Still, she knew the best thing for Santana was time, time to just stand there and soak things in without being pushed to venture further into the bar or talk to people or do anything other than observe things from the safety of Brittany's grasp.
Santana flinched slightly when Brittany reached for her sunglasses, the change from the nearly entirely darkened setting to a brighter one and the movement of the hand coming up at her face making her startle even as she knows it's only Brittany. She doesn't return Brittany's kiss, her eyes wide with her fear, pupils dilated. As Brittany wraps her arms around her, pulling her closer, she turns her head against her chest so her ear is pressed against Brittany's heart, listening to its steady beats as her own thuds wildly.
She knows she's safe, that neither Brittany nor Kurt would let anything happen to her, and the other two people in the bar seem unthreatening and very relaxed about her probably strange-seeming behavior. She rather suspects that Kurt had probably filled them in on some of the details of how and why she might behave, and as embarrassing as that is, she has some begrudging gratitude towards him for it. Neither are looking at her curiously, other than casting a brief, friendly smile and nod towards her and Brittany, and neither rushed to introduce themselves. That was a good thing, because she couldn't have handled a flood of words and introductions at the moment, no matter how well intended they were.
As Brittany rocked Santana slightly, her words soft and close to her ear, Santana took in a breath, trying to find words. They come out very softly when she manages.
"My mind knows I'm okay, but my body is really scared."
Santana let herself sink further into Brittany's arms, buried in a bundle of the baggy folds of her hoodie and the gentle but firm embrace of Brittany's arms. She let her body fold inward as much as possible, taut and tiny as she could manage to make it. She knew Brittany understood this need of hers, to be still and small and unnoticed, and therefore, possibly safe.
As Brittany continued to repeat the only words Santana needed, the only ones that would reassure her, Santana let herself slowly, gradually breathe a little more deeply, her body beginning to straighten a little more. She let herself take up a little more space, and she began to repeat Brittany's promises to herself silently. Safe. She was safe. Brittany was with her, and so she was safe. Always.
She began to watch Kurt and the others more fully, letting her head come up from Brittany's chest more to better see. The two strangers continued to appear unfazed by her and Brittany, but she could see Kurt frequently sneaking glances towards them and trying to seem like he wasn't. His very lack of subtlety was enough to bring a ghost of a smile to Santana's lips, and she murmured to Brittany, "He still doesn't know how to be stealthy worth a damn, even if he does look at Nancy Drew and Angela Lansbury as his personal childhood role models."
As Brittany kissed her cheek and stroked her back and hair, asking Santana if she wanted her to hold her, Santana took another slightly shaky breath. She was tempted, very much, and if it was just Kurt, she would have immediately turned and wrapped her arms around Brittany's neck for her to lift her. But she didn't know his friends, and she didn't want to look like any more of a freak than she already thought she must, even if they were as dorky and weird as any friend of Rachel and Kurt's was bound to be. And besides, she wanted to keep pushing herself, keep trying to take things forward, one step at a time. Having Brittany pick her up like a toddler was not the way to do that.
"No," she said, a little uncertainly at first, then more decisively. "No. Um…okay. Okay, I can do this. Let's go sit down."
Pulling away from Brittany, but keeping very close, her arm closely linked through Brittany's, shoulder and hip touching, she walked with her to the table closest to the door. She started to pull out a chair to sit, but she had barely let her backside brush its surface before she decided that even if she was ready to sit, it felt too vulnerable to sit in a chair by herself. Standing a little awkwardly, she slid into Brittany's lap, head down, but eyes up towards the stage.
Brittany knew, even though they were two of just five people in a closed bar, Santana was trying to make herself as small as possible, as if she could make herself disappear inside Brittany if she tried hard enough. She did it in therapy and even when they were alone in their apartment, as if merely existing as herself was too much for Santana. She knew Santana also loved the pressure of Brittany's body against her own, of her arms pressing against her, holding her tight, making her feel grounded and tethered instead of free falling. It always started out like this, Santana trying to fold herself small, then gradually expanding as her muscles loosened, her body relaxed, resting against Brittany's body instead of adamantly trying to fold herself up against her. It was tragically beautiful, in a way, just how much Brittany affected Santana by being there, by assuring her it was okay, by letting her hear her voice. Her presence alone sept into Santana's muscles and relaxed them.
When Santana spoke, Brittany giggled into her hair, surprised that she had realized how many times Kurt had been looking over at them. Brittany had seen it and had been making it into a game, every time Kurt glanced over, Brittany made eye contact with him. "I keep meeting his eyes and he keeps snapping his head away," Brittany confessed with a grin, knowing Santana would think that was funny. Santana was always the only one who had ever understood her humor, appreciated her jokes and the way Brittany could subtly make people squirm if she wanted to. Still, under their humor, Brittany had felt a swell of gratitude, a reminder that Kurt really did care deeply for Santana, and had done so much for her when Brittany wasn't there, even before the assault had taken place. "I'm sure he's really happy to see you," Brittany added as a sweet afterthought.
She wasn't sure what Santana would say to being picked up, pausing after the first "No" - wanting to make sure Santana really meant it and wasn't about to double back on her own answer. She waited until she confirmed her answer before smiling, ducking down to press another kiss to her cheek. Brittany knew that Santana probably did want her to hold her, but she was testing herself, something that Brittany had watched her do all the time. It was one thing for Brittany to push her - Brittany urged her out of her comfort zone little by little, and Santana took those chances for Brittany, because she felt safe enough to do them. But when Santana took her own little leaps, when she pushed herself without any prompting, Brittany felt like her heart was bursting with love. It took a lot for Santana to test herself on her own, and she knew that Santana did it because Brittany would be there to catch her if she fell, to steady her if she stumbled, always.
"I'll be right here," Brittany promised steadily when Santana confirmed she was ready to go sit down, following Santana's guide to the table closest to the door, deeper into the bar than they'd previously been. She was letting Santana lead, deciding which table to pick and following dutifully, pulling out the chair beside Santana and sitting down, expecting Santana to do the same. She did, but only for a moment, springing up- causing Brittany to tilt her head up, following her face, her hand immediately coming out to rest on Santana's thigh.
"What?" She asked gently, her eyes fixed on Santana's face. She didn't speak, the both of them silent for a moment, letting Santana process whatever had just occurred before Santana moved, clicking Brittany's perception into clarity when she climbed on her lap. She smiled, adjusting her legs and wrapping her arms around Santana's waist, taking a second to check that she was okay before directly her attention to Kurt and the other band members.
"Hi guys, I'm Brittany," Brittany grinned, picking up a hand to wave at them before she slid her arm back around Santana, "And this is Santana. Thanks for letting us crash your rehearsal," She grinned, thinking it better if they didn't go up to them just yet, letting Santana soak in the feeling of being on her lap.
Santana giggled briefly at Brittany's remark about how she was messing with Kurt. She always found Brittany's way of messing with people hilarious, especially because no one else except her ever seemed to understand what she was doing. Other people seemed to view Brittany with faint perplexity that they would shrug off as her being "quirky" or "slow" rather than the sharp-witted person with a wicked streak of humor that Santana knew her to be.
As Santana settled herself more firmly on Brittany's lap, Brittany was immediately attentive to her, checking if she was okay, if she needed her, how she might need her. It made Santana's heart swell with love and gratitude for her in a way that she thought probably showed in her eyes if not her expression when she quickly looked back at Brittany. She gave her a small smile, trying to reassure her as much as she could that she was okay or soon would be, and then leaned back against Brittany's chest, squirming until she could steadily feel the beat of her heart against the left wing of her shoulder blade.
Santana covered Brittany's arms around her with her own, tucking them more securely around herself, and stayed quiet as Brittany introduced herself and Santana. She didn't say anything as the people on stage both waved back, also not making an approach towards them.
"Hello, I'm Elliott," the eyeliner guy called back. "Glad to have you, it's nice to have a bit of a practice audience."
"I'm Dani," the girl beside him responded, flashing a grin, and Santana noted that she had dimples in her cheeks. "Welcome, nice to have some fellow ladies. Sometimes there is far too much testosterone energy around here."
Santana smirked at that, whispering to Brittany. "Seriously? Does Kurt even have testosterone? And that guy doesn't look like he has a whole lot more in him either."
When Santana looked back at her, Brittany stilled, overcome by a rush of love over the pure gratitude an adoration she saw in Santana's eyes. Brittany knew her worth - especially with Santana, and often toed the line of feeling so lucky that she was the single person in the world that Santana trusted, the one person who got to see every beautiful, shining part of her, while also being overwhelmed with the sheer magnitude of her desire to never fail her. Santana put no pressure on her, Brittany knew she would love and value whatever amounts Brittany showed up for her, as even the bare minimum Brittany gave was always so much more than what Santana ever expected.
Still, in moments when Santana looked at her like that, plainly thankful and communicating a hundred different things without saying a single word, Brittany was confident that she was made to exist for Santana, that her entire life had purpose because Santana loved her like she did.
When Elliot and Dani waved and greeted them, Brittany smiled warmly, grateful that they didn't stop their movements in setting up the stage or come over to chat with them, knowing that while Santana would've been find, the distance was probably a little easier.
"Nice to meet you guys, I'm sure you'll be great, we haven't done anything like this in so long, since we were in high school really, so it'll be nice to hear live music," Brittany assured them. Grinning at Santana's whispered comment, she pressed her fingers into her ribs, tickling her gently. "Be nice to our new friends," She teased, even though Santana was very much correct. "Although, I definitely could beat both of them in an arm wrestle," She observed, seeing that she was about the same height as Elliot and definitely more muscular.
She settled into her chair comfortable, propping of her feet up on the adjoining chairs, easily accommodating for Santana in her lap. When it came time for the band to actually start rehearsing, Brittany cheered, clapping her hands before slipping them back around Santana, laughing as Elliot, Kurt and Dani all threw unexpected looks her way.
"Gotta be supportive," She beamed, quieting as the first notes of a song were plucked from the strings of Elliot's guitar, a slow, winding Sam Smith song, clearly one of the warm ups the band knew well. "Lay Me Down," Brittany whispered, recognizing the notes, "Awwww, I love this song," She hummed along with a few of the chords, her lips pressed to Santana's temple.
Santana tried not to giggle, squirming and shoving at Brittany's hands. Brittany knew very well that she was ticklish, and she used it in moments like this to her full advantage. "Stoppp," she whined quietly, though not really as offended as she was putting on by any means. "Not fair, I can't reach your feet like this to get you back.. Besides, they're Kurt's friends, who said they're ours?"
She settled back, giving a somewhat wicked smile at Brittany's observation of being able to arm wrestle. "I have absolutely no doubt. Hell, you could kick their asses from here to the stage without barely lifting a leg." She believed it, too. Brittany was strong, in great shape, and far tougher than people tended to expect of her, in every meaning of the term.
As Brittany propped her feet up, Santana squirmed to further comfortably lounge on her, leaning back against Brittany with her back against her chest, her legs straddling both sides of Brittany's. She found herself smiling, noting with a little surprise that the trio were actually pretty talented. She especially liked Dani's voice paired with her guitar. When Brittany cheered and clapped, Santana almost started to do the same before quickly stopping herself and attempting to keep her face blank.
"Not bad," she settled for, although the smile on her face is far too approving for that noncommittal praise. "What else you got?"
As they began their next song, she relaxed further, the vibration of Brittany's humming a soothing noise and sensation she could both feel against her chest and forehead and hear close to her ears. She smiled, leaning closer still against Brittany, partly turning in her lap to rest her head against hers as she listened, her expression soft.
Several songs later the band took a break as Elliott and Kurt started to argue over the next song- Santana didn't care enough to pay attention to the specifics. She looked back at Brittany, feeling more comfortable now to actually ask tentatively, "Are we supposed to go talk to them or stay semi antisocial back here like we don't know them?" She actually wasn't sure what was considered "polite". Or why she cared, exactly.
Brittany giggled, patting Santana's thigh lightly. "They're our friends. Unless you hate this and decide you never want to come back, which I don't think is the case considering you're pretty calm right now and it has to do with music," Brittany pointed out bluntly. They'd overcome a huge hurdle already in getting Santana inside the bar, and Santana was doing incredibly well, even though Brittany had tried to go into the day with no standards or expectations, just following her intuition and Santana's.
It was nice to be so close to music in a different way than they were at Brittany's rehearsals. Even when it was just the two of them dancing, Brittany's rehearsals always involved music coming out of the stereo and constantly body movement. It was about what the music did to you body but there, sitting in rehearsal, so close to the stage where live music was being made, it was about what the music did to inside them, and Brittany loved it, feeling caught up in the music and performance. It was nice, and she felt Santana's body relax even further against her, leaning back on her chest instead of tense in her lap.
She laughed when Santana claimed that the music was 'Not bad', happy that she was letting her guard down enough to throw a little sass their way. Brittany always savored the moments when Santana wasn't afraid to let her personality shine through with other people, feeling like Santana was so perfect in herself that Brittany thought the rest of the world deserved to see just a little of that.
The songs transitioned almost effortlessly into the following piece of music, most of them slowed down versions of songs Brittany knew and she hummed a long, swaying a little in her seat, her arms wrapped around Santana. While it was very obvious they were in a closed bar, something about the fact that there were just five of them made the world seemed to slow down, as if life outside wasn't continuing to bustle on in the city. The music made her brain quiet, and she hoped it was having the same affect on Santana, her head leaned against Brittany's jaw tenderly as she sat, curling into her a little.
Brittany cheered appropriately after each pause in the music, catching Santana almost begin clapping too a few times, making Brittany grin from ear to ear although she never called Santana on it directly. "Ummm," Brittany shrugged, "I don't think there are rules. I think Kurt probably told them not to expect anything from us, but we can go up there if you want to," She said easily, tilting her chin toward the stage. "I don't think they'd mind either way, they seem cool enough just to have us here. If you don't want to talk to them, maybe we can just move up closer?" She suggested, trying to give Santana a number of different choices to make.
"You can't be friends with people when you don't even know their last name," Santana murmured back, partly seriously, partly playfully. "We don't know how annoying they are yet. What if they're as bad as the Shrill Set? What if they're worse? Is that possible? Could they have found a second set of punker but more alarming Hummelberries?"
She let Brittany move her with her as she swayed to the beat of the music, enjoying the motion, letting herself get caught up in it too. She wasn't quite ready to go so far as dancing or singing, but it was nice to move a little along with their playing and singing, even if it was mostly due to having little choice with Brittany's motions and being so closely held. It made her feel calmer, slower, almost as though she were slightly drunk in a good way. She wouldn't have thought it was possible to feel this way in this setting, even with Brittany, even knowing logically that she was safe. It was this success that let her ponder over Brittany's suggestion of moving closer.
Moving closer to the stage. She thought she could do that. Maybe more towards the middle of the room instead of close to the bar or the stage itself.
"Okay," she said slowly in Brittany's ear, still thinking this over, before making her decisions. More decisively, she nodded, swallowing. "Okay. Let's move closer."
She slid off of Brittany's lap and immediately took her hand, grasping it tightly, and kept herself close against her side while nevertheless taking her to a table she selected closer to the stage. She waited for Brittany to sit and sat in her lap again, rolling her eyes when Kurt shot a smile in her direction so wide that it looked cheesy and ridiculously happy when he noticed her having switched tables.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm not a second away from being free to bolt out the door, let's write a song on the spot about it in celebration."
Brittany grinned, shooting back, "I didn't know your last name when I first became your friend," referring to their very first days of cheer camp when Brittany had thought Santana was beautiful in a way she'd never seen before and seemed to be the only one of the incoming freshman not terrified by Santana's glares occasionally-judgmental comments. "I had no idea your name was Lopez, just that I wanted to hang out with you," and hang out they had- either in Santana's empty house or on Brittany's trampoline. Santana had never been rude to her, and Brittany had never questioned it. They simply fitt.
"You love them," Brittany rolled her eyes playfully, knowing that Rachel and Kurt were very high on Santana's very short list of people she loved. She knew Santana sparring with them was simply part of their dynamic, and Brittany certainly played her part, just and much as Rachel and Kurt did - neither one of them ever even trying to calm their antics or try and hook them onto musicals or fashion. "They don't look annoying, I mean, Dani does not look like someone who goes home and takes notes on musicals in her free time," Brittany observed, knowing that was probably what Rachel was doing in that moment.
Smiling, Brittany held her hand out for Santana to take, giving her hand a comforting squeeze before she stood with her, following her to a table that Santana deemed the right one, definitely much closer to the stage while still not being front row, giving them a bit of distance to be in their own world. "Perfect," Brittany approved, even though every single table was the same, sitting down first and opening her arms so Santana could fold herself back into her embrace, nudging a chair out with her ankle so she could rest her foot on its seat. She smiled back at Kurt when he beamed at them, knowing her was genuinely happy they were there and that Santana was okay, offering him a brief nod to confirm it.
Regardless of how much Santana brushed it off, Brittany thought it was cute how much Rachel and Kurt really did care and how excited they got when Santana did things that were hard or reached milestones. She knew they'd clashed in the past and that their methods of comfort were definitely not always what Santana needed, but she understood that their intentions had always been good, if carried out a little off. "Thank God Rachel's not here or she would definitely be jumping on that opportunity," Brittany grinned before turning her attention toward the stage.
"You guys are really really good. It's nice to be able to hear live music again. I guess you forget how different it can be from hearing things on the radio or from Spotify," Brittany said with a grateful smile. She knew Santana's relationship with music had been fragmented at best in the wake of her attack, but this seemed like a good step to getting back to doing something that she knew Santana loved, even if they were just listening, simply being around music being performed made Brittany feel something, and she knew it was the same for Santana.
"Hm, touche," Santana acknowledged Brittany's point of not knowing her last name when their friendship began, rolling her neck thoughtfully. "But you were different. You were special."
She stroked Brittany's neck, lightly scratching her fingernails along its arch until she reached the curve where it met her shoulder. As Brittany needled Santana about loving Kurt and Rachel, she stopped, groaning aloud and rolling her eyes.
"Ugh, I do not love them," she protested, although she knew even as she said it that it wasn't true. "I tolerate them. I would probably save them from dying even though that is weird, twisted, and probably psychotic."
Considering Dani and Elliott again from a closer view now, she considered what Brittany was observing of them. "Okay, true," she acknowledged. "Dani looks like she would probably rather be the kind of kid that wrote emo song lyrics on Converse in high school and spent far too much time in Hot Topic. Elliott too, actually. Which is also alarming, but I can tolerate that more than reindeer sweaters and argyle."
Still settled in Brittany's lap, Santana continued to watch them run through several of their songs, slowly and quietly proud of herself simply for being there, for being able to sit in a bar like a normal person and listen to her friends do something creative, something fun, something they had worked hard for and were proud of. Maybe her accomplishment seemed small, compared to theirs, but to her, it was enormous and carried a weight that made her glow with the understanding of her continued progress.
"Yeah, you guys come together well," Santana echoed Brittany's compliment as the group took a break. "I didn't think anyone outside the Hobbit could possibly drown out Hummel's shrill pitch, but somehow you manage to blend him in and actually make him sound good. Maybe it's the guitar," she nodded towards Dani, teasing with the slight dig at Kurt, but actually impressed.
Kurt, knowing Santana, just smirked at her before giving her a genuine smile. "Thanks, Satan. We're really glad you came."
"Kurt says you both sang with him in high school," Elliott piped up, nodding towards the girls. "And that you were dancer, Brittany? Is it true you really were backup for Beyonce?"
"Kurt says that you were really amazing," Dani directed towards Santana. "He said your voice was the most unique and rich of the Glee club, even if Rachel was more technically advanced."
Santana blinked, looking at Kurt as though to confirm this, but he didn't change expression. Apparently this was true, he had said it, and she was somewhat taken aback.
"You too," Brittany said easily, and she meant it. She knew their early friendship, and later relationship, would never have worked if they hadn't been been equally invested and enamored with each other, so drawn to the other that it had quickly transitioned to constantly hanging out outside of cheer camp and school without either of them questioning if it was strange or too much too fast. They'd slotted into each other's lives easily and Brittany had always known it was on both of their accounts that it had occurred so seamlessly.
She hummed deep in her throat when Santana stroked her neck, touching her as easily and confidently as Brittany touched her, knowing that nothing was off limits, nothing she did and no where she touched would ever illicit a reaction other than pure pleasure from Brittany, a trail of goosebumps shivering over her skin at the gentle tickle of Santana's nail down the slope of her shoulder. Brittany let her eyes shut at the contact, letting herself feel it and listening to the song that Dani, Elliot and Kurt were currently performing. She giggled, cracking an eye open when Santana insisted she didn't love Rachel and Kurt, glancing down at her as if to silently confess that she knew Santana was kidding.
Brittany listened to her observations about Dani and Elliot, nodding thoughtfully as she mulled over what Santana was saying. "Okay, you're definitely right about the Hot Topic part," She grinned, "They probably had severe side bangs in high school, but then again, everyone kind of did," Brittany giggled, shaking her head at the fashion choices that had been in style during high school, gratefully that for most of it, they'd been in Cheerios uniforms and so therefore saved from any particularly bad fashion phases.
She wasn't sure how much Santana would be up for participating in conversation with them, but was pleasantly surprised when Santana backed up her compliments, feeling confident enough to speak to them, even if she did slip in a comment about Rachel which made Brittany snort a laugh, hiding her face in Santana's hair briefly. She'd only just stopped laughing when Kurt evenly and fondly referred to Santana as Satan in his response, causing a whole hearted laugh from Brittany, snuggling Santana closer to her in a hug as she giggled about their effortless and mildly-offensive back and forth, giving them both a playful eye roll that Dani and Elliot could see. "We all get along great," She said sarcastically, although a joking smile was flickering across her face as she spoke, shaking her head in amusement.
Outside of confirming rehearsal time with Kurt and apologizing in advance if she had to pull Santana out of that environment before practice ended, Brittany hadn't spoken to him too much and so had no idea of what he'd told Dani or Elliot. She assumed, automatically by their chill reactions, that he had to at least have prepared them for Santana potentially getting upset or being hesitant from the amount of times he'd seen Santana go from 0 to 100 in a few seconds, even while Brittany had been there. She reminded herself to thank Kurt for whatever he'd said, because Dani and Elliot never blinked an eye at their slow migration toward the stage.
"Oh! Yeah, that's true, was. I danced for her on a few tours before I - uh, came home," She said, not sure if anyone in the room caught the way she stumbled over her explanation for leaving, knowing Santana probably did catch it despite her attempt to recover. She had almost said "before I quit tour" but pivoted at the last second, thinking that that sounded even worse and wanting to avoid opening up the floor for questions about why she wasn't currently a Beyonce dancer.
She was grateful when the conversation shifted towards Santana, smiling at the compliment Dani and Elliot had just given her by way of Kurt. She squeezed Santana around the middle a little, knowing she had no idea how to take compliments from other people, so unused to receiving them. "She does," Brittany confirmed, patting her leg as if to reinforce this point.
Santana tried and just barely managed to hide a grin at Brittany's backing her comments about Rachel, Dani, and Elliott, unable to suppress a pleasurable shiver when Brittany hid her face in her hair, her breath tickling Santana's neck. As she squeezed Santana, Santana relaxed further still, more comfortable from her position on Brittany's lap to open herself up a little more to the newcomers.
When Elliott asked about Brittany performing for Beyonce, she did briefly tense, not wanting to go into that story, and most of all the reason of why Brittany quit. But Brittany managed to slip around it, and neither of Kurt's friends asked further questions, instead expressing genuine admiration and impressed regards that made Santana both relax back with relief and give them genuine smiles. She was always far more accepting of someone who paid her Brittany the praise and accolades for her talent and accomplishments she felt that she deserved.
"She owns a dance studio now," she spoke up, patting Brittany's arm. "She's amazing, it would blow your mind to watch her. Beyonce herself has nothing on Britt."
She flushed slightly when Dani directed compliments towards herself, rolling her eyes and attempting to deflect. "Whatever, he probably said that in front of Rachel to piss her off. Not that he's wrong." But despite the flippancy of her comment, she is smiling, eyes soft, genuinely pleased.
"Well, we would love to see you dance, Brittany, and to hear you sing, if you ever wanted to show off your skills," Dani said sincerely, and Elliott chimed in, genuine but without any hint of pressure to his tone. "Definitely, you both have us intrigued. I'm always open to seeing talent, especially anyone Kurt talks up who isn't himself," he needled him, elbowing him lightly as Kurt laughed.
"Hey! I only give you criticism that's deserved and accurate!" he protested, but he added in with equal sincerity. "No pressure to either of you, but it's true. If you ever wanted to, I'd love to see you guys dance or sing, even if it's just in someone's living room somewhere. I've missed it."
Santana can see he truly means it, and the soft smile he directs towards her says more than his actual words. He knows what that would mean, for her to make herself vulnerable enough to anyone but Brittany to sing. He knows as much as any other in Glee how raw and emotional she can be when performing, how open that makes her to her own pain as much as to her own joy, and yet she actually considers it.
"Maybe," she found herself saying slowly, shrugging. "We'll see."
As the band regrouped and started to discuss and then put together a song they had been working on writing as an original, Santana became aware first gradually, then with increasing urgency, that she needed to use the bathroom. She tried to ignore it, biting her lip and clinching her muscles to suppress her growing physical need, but as she began to squirm on Brittany's lap, anxiety began to arise until she was beginning to find it difficult to breathe. The band members had not noticed her discomfort, focused on their own actions, but Santana grasped Brittany's arm, her increased confident position in her lap sinking inward and growing smaller with the problem she was beginning to encounter.
She did not want to have to go into the bathroom of a bar. Not now, not ever. She couldn't handle it, there was no way in her mind it was possible. But she had to pee. She really, really had to, and this was a problem growing so big in her mind she was beginning to blank out with the anxiety of not knowing how to face up to it.
Usually, Santana was the one who downplayed her own successes and talents while Brittany was the one to reaffirm her and point out her recent wins and qualities to whoever they were with, making sure Santana wasn't being too dismissive of her accomplishments or things that deserved to be celebrated. Now, though, Brittany listened to Santana do it for her, blushing bashfully at Santana's explanation that she also taught at a dance studio and that Beyonce herself couldn't compare to her. "Okay I'm not sure about that last part but I don't think I ever want to find out," She giggled, aware that Santana was almost completely at ease chatting with these virtual strangers, glad that she'd loosened up enough to make conversation and not be upset the entire time they were there.
Laughing at the playful banter between the band members, Brittany shrugged easily at his suggestion that they'd love to see her dance. "Maybe some day for sure, I love figuring out stuff to move to when it's live," Brittany motioned with her hand to their instruments, passionate about the fact that live music brought out an entirely different identity to whatever song was being performed. "Santana doesn't sing anymore," Brittany teased, her voice light hearted. "We graduated high school and now she's too cool for Glee, but I'm trying to get her back to performing because she's so good," She said, keeping the conversation light and dancing around the more obvious reasons Santana hadn't been up for singing, meeting Kurt's eyes as she spoke, the three of them having a conversation about Santana's singing while really having a silent conversation about something completely different, about Santana being raw and vulnerable and unable to ignore her own emotions when she sang.
Brittany didn't expect Santana to acknowledge their gentle teasing, much less agree to possibly singing, even if it was a noncommittal "maybe." Before she even knew it, a burst of hope had exploded in her chest and she was grinning from ear to ear, her eyes flicking to Kurt's again, glowing in the aftermath of Santana's "maybe." Maybe wasn't yes, but it definitely wasn't no. While Brittany wanted to listen to Santana sing again, more than anything, she wanted Santana to be able to connect with that part of herself, to get back to doing something that she loved so much and was so deeply passionate about. She wanted to give the ability to sing back to Santana, and fleetingly, she felt like Santana was her Ariel, and that someone had stolen her voice, but Brittany was determined to give it back to her.
They finished their conversation and then let the trio go back to the stage, tinkering about with instruments as they tried out different chords and melodies. Brittany leaned back in her chair, already happy with how rehearsal had gone. She'd been fairly open to the possibility of Santana not being comfortable and wanting to leave early, but they seemed to click easily with Dani and Elliot, and Brittany was already hoping Santana would want to come again, thinking about how it was the perfect way to broaden Santana's social circle just a little and give her an outlet to do something she loved while still keeping it in a fairly comfortable and intimate environment with only her, Kurt, Dani and Elliot there to witness it.
As she watched the band, Brittany felt Santana squirming on her lap, letting her adjust herself a few times, her eyes glancing down to her but keeping silent, seeing if she would settle herself eventually. From what Brittany could tell, nothing had changed from five minutes ago, and then, all of a sudden, something had. She could feel all the subtle, invisible signs that something was wrong, feeling Santana's body tense on her lap, seeing how quick she'd begun to breathe, her grip now tight and desperate on Brittany's arm. Making sure no one on stage had picked up on anything amiss, Brittany dipped her head down to Santana's ear, whispering imperceptibly, "Hey, tell me what's wrong." Her voice was a gentle murmur, quietly reminding Santana of her presence, requesting an explanation, asking for access into whatever Santana was thinking in that moment.
Despite knowing that it was Brittany speaking to her, Santana startled at the feeling of her lips against her ear, a shudder rippling through her. Her nervous system is climbing towards high alert now, and everything around her seems so much more stimulation than it had just a minute ago. The voices of the band seem louder and higher pitched, the smell of the alcohol in the distant is heightened, and she can feel her own heart booming against her chest, far more than she is aware of Brittany's body under hers or her arms around her. She struggles to breathe, the effort of it making her chest move up and down jerkily, and the words feel impossible at first for her to form.
She wants to revert back to her old habit of spelling on Brittany's hand, but it seems like a long explanation, one that Brittany may not immediately understand. This is one of the instances where only her words will suffice, and Santana hates it, fights against the difficulty of it, finally managing with a breathless, tiny gasp that she immediately hates the sound of, hates the vulnerability she hears in it. The voice she just used belongs to a different girl than the one who had just spoken to two strangers like it wasn't a big deal.
"I...I need to use the bathroom. I need to use the bathroom, b-but I can't. Brittany, I can't."
She tightens her grasp on Brittany's arm, knowing that her grip is possibly too hard now, knowing that it may actually be hurting Brittany a little and hating this too. Only with great effort does she pull away and start twisting and squeezing at the hem of Brittany's shirt instead, needing the contact, needing to use something to ground herself and unable to refrain from putting all her anxiety into the hold.
"Sorry," Brittany whispered when she jumped, feeling bad every time she accidentally scared Santana, even though she knew it was fear that was in Santana's mind and not necessarily surprise that Brittany was right there. She could feel Santana's chest heaving against her body more and more as she sat with her back to Brittany, and Brittany slid her free arm up from Santana's waist to press it against her collarbone under her throat, wanting to steady her and feel how she was breathing.
"It's okay, Babe," She hummed, her mind racing instantly at how quickly something had made Santana upset, something that wasn't obvious to Brittany. Quickly, she mentally scanned their recent conversation with Elliot, Dani and Kurt and even Santana's demeanor throughout the day- she had seemed okay at rehearsal, even seeming to enjoy herself, but now, that didn't seem to be the case.
"Shhhhh," Brittany calmed as Santana's gasping grew even more jagged. Her eyes flicked up to the stage momentarily, clocking that the trio still hadn't noticed Santana getting upset but figured that they probably would soon if she continued like this. "It's okay," She repeated, her hand on Santana's collarbone coming up to her jaw, turning her head to the side so she could look at Brittany, Brittany's head ducked down to her. "Tell me what happened," She hummed gently, feeling Santana' grip tighten even more on her arm, her face passive, letting Santana hold on to her.
When Santana confessed what it was, what she needed, Brittany nodded gently, calmly, even though her thoughts had kicked into overdrive - fuck. This was obviously not part of the plan, and Brittany hadn't forseen this - Santana usually never went to the bathroom in public if she could help it, and Brittany knew if she was this upset about it, if she'd gotten that upset so fast, that Santana hadn't thought about the potential for this situation either.
"Okay," She said softly, nodding again, her voice steady and low compared to Santana's' quivering, broken words. "Let's go back where we were closer to the door so we can talk without disturbing rehearsal," Brittany coaxed gently, feeling Santana tug desperately at a fistful of her shirt as she clung to her. What she really meant was - let's go back there so no one picks up on the fact that you're panicking and makes you more upset.
Bringing her hands to Santana's waist from behind, she whispered again, "I'm going to pick you up in just a minute, but I need you to stand up for me so I can stand up too, just for a second," Brittany coaxed, half lifting Santana to her wobbly feet before she stood up behind her, turning her by the hips and leaning down to let Santana lock her arms around her neck, lifting her up and supporting her thighs. She caught Kurt's eye intentionally, his attention going to them as they stood up, and nodded to confirm things were fine, holding up a single finger to silently tell him they just needed a minute.
And then she was moving, back toward the door, away from the rehearsal and into the shadows, her arms wrapped securely around Santana, one hand on the back of her head, now entirely focused on her. "Shhhh, I know you're scared, it's okay," She soothed, knowing this was something they needed to talk about at length before they even tried to walk into that bathroom.
Santana sucked in a slightly slower breath as Brittany put her hand against her collarbone, trying to help her calm down. As Brittany turned Santana's face towards her, Santana's lips pressed into a tight line, as though holding back a flood of words or emotions, and her dark eyes were wide with her racing thoughts and flood of threateningly overwhelming emotion. She barely managed to hear Brittany responding to her, although Brittany's soft words and calm expression does help, just a tiny bit.
Her eyes flicked towards the others on the stage, also wanting to make sure as Brittany was that they were too focused on their own discussion to be watching her and taking in her behavior. Slightly reassured that they seemed intent on themselves rather than her, she gave a tiny nod in response to Brittany's suggestion to move closer to the door. She gave no resistance to Brittany lifting her; that was exactly what she wanted right then, even if the others did notice and think it was weird. In fact, the moment Brittany lifted her off her shaky legs Santana grasped her tightly around the neck, burying her face in her neck. She didn't see Kurt and Brittany make eye contact or the concern in his expression; her heart was still pounding as she wound her arms around Brittany's neck and her legs around her waist as tightly as she could cling.
As Brittany stood with her in the back of the bar, her hand cupping her head, stroking through her hair, Santana kept herself wrapped around her, her breathing sputtering against Brittany's neck. She was near tears as she just held onto her, unable to stop thinking the same stream of thoughts.
I have to go. But I can't. I need to. I can't. I can't, I can't do it. But I need to. But I can't, I can't, I can't….
Santana was holding on so fiercely to her, she wondered if her body hurt with the effort of clinging so desperately, knowing the disruption to their carefully laid plan had set Santana off along with the idea of even stepping foot in a bar bathroom. "It's okay hon," Brittany soothed, brushing her hand over Santana's hair gently, "Let's just talk about it," She said, wanting to steady her and pull her out of her thoughts at least for the moment. "You're fine, we were just okay and safe and talking to Elliot and Dani and Kurt remember?" Brittany cooed, wanting to remind Santana that this was a safe place, remind her that she'd just been completely okay in the bar, even though she knew her thoughts were elsewhere.
She knew there were a lot of fears of Santana's that she needed to settle as soon as possible, and so she started with the most immediate, her lips against Santana's upturned ear, swaying her gently where she stood at the back of the bar. "No one's here but the five of us," She reminded gently, softly providing facts about their present situation. "I know you're afraid and I know why, but no ones in the bathroom waiting for us, no one came in here or hid in here or even knew that you and I were coming here," Brittany pointed out, "I'm right here and you know I won't let anything happen to you," She promised.
Like the clothes, Santana associated so much danger and threat with the idea of going to the bathroom at the bar, which Brittany completely understood. She knew Santana's mind, memories and trauma were all incredibly powerful, but she did her best to separate this particular bathroom from the memories in Santana's mind.
"It's just like the bathroom at home," She cooed, trying to remove the fear of Santana's worst nightmare happening to her again, "Or at school or the studio, you go in there with me all the time." She pointed out softly. It was true, Santana always followed her in there, both of them sliding into the big stall when Brittany had to change between classes or when she first got there. Santana had been nervous about it at first, but now they'd gone in together so many times it was familiar to her.
"Talk to me," Brittany commanded gently, smoothing Santana's hair down her back. "And breathe, Babe, please. I'm right here, you know I won't put you down," She coaxed, trying to slow Santana's mind down and bring her back to the present.
Santana's body did hurt. Every muscle was pulled taut with the effort of holding onto Brittany so hard, of making herself as small against her as possible. She was shaking, further creating achiness in her strained muscles as Brittany continued to speak to her gently, petting her hair, trying to ground her with her body and her presence.
It was so hard to listen to her, to even make sense of Brittany's words in the waterfall flood of her fear, but she tried. She could hear Brittany repeatedly telling her that she was safe, that there was no one there who harm her, and she knew that Brittany believed this, that she would never let her be at risk if she could do anything to prevent it. Mentally, Santana knew she was safe. Emotionally, bodily, everything within her screamed she was in danger, that she could very well be nearing death if she stepped foot into a bathroom in a bar ever again.
As Brittany stroked her hair, continuing to speak to her softly, Santana shivered again, her mouth against Brittany's collarbone, her words coming out rushed and high-pitched and difficult to understand.
"I-I'm scared. I'm so scared. I need to go, and, and I don't want to, I don't want to go in there. I'll remember it, I'll feel it again, it will be like it's happening again. I'll smell it, and I'll feel it. I don't know what to do."
Brittany took deep, slow breaths, trying to guide Santana's body toward calm, trying to still her, only imaging the ache in her tight muscles as she trembled, feeling Santana's lips pressed against her collar bone, the planes and divots in her face against Brittany's neck as she gripped her, desperate for protection and safety and a solution to the situation. Brittany felt an ache deep in her body, overwhelmed with the desire to make it okay, to bring Santana down to a steady emotional plane.
She listened closely to Santana's stuttering, fast words, her head ducked down to hear when Santana was mumbling, feeling her lips moving against Brittany's skin. "Okay, okay, I know," She hushed, "It's okay to be scared, Babe. I know why you're afraid. That's a big thing to go in there." Brittany said, first trying to validate Santana's emotions and make sure Santana knew that she understood what she was feeling where her fears were coming from. "I know," She hushed, letting them lapse into a few comforting minutes of silence before she spoke again.
"It's not the same bathroom and it could smell completely different," She soothed, swaying her body gently to lull Santana. "It's not going to have any affect on your body, Babe, just like how the clothes at the apartment don't have any affect on you," She promised, even though she knew Santana's mind was powerful enough to convince her body otherwise. In the days following Brittany's confession about the clothes, Santana had calmed down considerably and life had returned to normal, the clothes more or less forgotten, tucked away in their hiding place where they'd stay for as long as Santana wanted them too.
"Nobody's in there and no one can hurt you," She hushed, knowing hearing comforting things was the best thing she could do for Santana in that moment. "If we need help Kurt and Dani and Elliot will hear us and I'll be in there with you," She pointed out, knowing that they would be completely fine and not in danger using the bathroom at an empty bar, but wanting to outline that their friends were also the only other people there and would easily hear them if anything happened.
"Don't let your mind go back there," She whispered, her lips against Santana's temple where Santana's head rested on her chest. "You're right here with me and you're safe and okay. You will always, always always be safe with me," She hushed, trying to keep talking, to keep letting Santana hear her voice, to keep her in the present. "Relax your body, San, I've got you. I'll hold you just like this for as long as you want."
Santana's gulping, shaky breaths gradually developed a slightly more regular rhythm as she tried to listen to Brittany, her body soaking in the comfort of Brittany's tight embrace and soothing sway. She felt a few tears drip out from beneath tightly closed eyelids, hot against Brittany's skin. Santana heard her and knew Brittany was telling her the truth, Brittany always told her the truth. She tried to replace the frantic fears in her head with this reassurance, with this steady knowledge, repeating it to herself over and over.
Brittany tells the truth. Brittany says she's okay. Brittany will protect her. Brittany is truth, she's okay, Brittany will protect her.
She tried to process the continued flow of reassurance, knowing all this. It was true, if someone was hiding in there, somehow, even if they knocked her out or Brittany, one of them could scream and run for help. Five against one was a lot, even if she only trusted Brittany to be truly worth anything in a fight of the fight. Even five against two was a lot, and surely they could stop them from doing much harm if they teamed up together.
As Brittany continued to reassure her that she was safe, that she had her and would hold her and keep her as long as needed, Santana slowly stopped shaking as badly, although her heartbeat still was much faster than normal. Her head still buried in Brittany's chest, she whispered eventually, "I…I'll try. Because I really, really need to go now. But I'm still scared. I'm still really scared."
Brittany felt the moisture on her neck from Santana's tears, feeling her body shudder a few more times before leveling out marginally, relaxing just a little in Brittany's arms. She knew Santana was listening to her, and she kept up a slow, quiet babble of soothing words and phrases. "It'll be just like the studio," She promised, "No one's in there because no one else has a key to the bar or knows it's open so early in the day time," She hushed, "And I'll go into the stall with you and then we'll wash our hands and it'll be over. We'll be the only two people in there and we can even see if the door locks on the whole bathroom so nobody else can come inside," Brittany pointed out, having no idea what the layout of the bathroom was in the bar but trying to think of everything she could possibly do to make them feel safe once inside the bathroom.
When Santana responded in a whisper, Brittany pressed her lips to her hair, nodding gently. "Okay, why don't we go over there and I can open the door and we can look in to make sure it's empty?" She suggested, standing still for a few more minutes before slowly, slowly making her way across the bar, eyes searching until she landed on the hallway that led to the bathroom. She kept Santana tucked in close to her, continuing to murmur loving things in her ear, glancing up briefly to nod to Kurt that they were okay, feeling his eyes on them multiple times while they stood near the door.
Stepping into the little hallway off the main room of the bar, Brittany adjusts Santana in her arms, running a hand over her hair soothingly. "Do you want to pick your head up and see what the door looks like?" Brittany wondered, curious if that would help her localize her surroundings and see where she was and that Brittany was there. "Or do you just want me to push the door open?" She asked, glancing at the unassuming door, wishing she knew the layout of the bathroom behind it, assuming it was normal and basic, but wishing she could tell Santana exactly what it looked like.
"Why don't you look at the door, and then you can put your head back down and I can push it open and see what it looks like inside and make sure no one's in there?" Brittany suggested calmly. "I can describe to you what it looks like and what color it is and everything like that." She promised, hoping the walls or tiles or something were different from the bathroom Santana was attacked in and therefore helped her make the distinction, praying that they used different cleaning products and artificial scents. "They know we're coming in here," She added as an afterthought, "Kurt looked at me and he knows. He'll come check on us after a while to make sure we're okay," Brittany promised, even though she was certain nothing would happen to them.
Santana continued to cling to Brittany as she carried her across the bar, her head still tucked down, hiding her face against her shoulder. By now she has a vague understanding that Kurt and his friends have to have noticed them inching across the building, especially given that Brittany is carrying her and Santana isn't showing her face, that they must know something is wrong, but still, none of them say anything. She feels some shame and embarrassment, but not enough to lift her face or make a motion for Brittany to put her down. She doesn't think she would be physically capable of walking across the bar to the bathroom on her own right now.
When Brittany asked Santana if she wanted to see the door of the bathroom, Santana shook her head, her heart beginning to thump harder again as she knows how close they've come, that they are now standing outside of the door. Her bladder is pinched with discomfort at this point, but she doesn't move to get down, still wanting and needing the comfort of Brittany's holding her. When Brittany pressed her a little to look at the door, she sniffled, squeezing Brittany a little tighter for a moment, and then very quickly lifted her head up, almost clipping Brittany on the chin in the process. It was a standard, wooden door, the wood slightly chipped around the doorknob, with a plaque reading Ladies- nothing special. The other bar's bathroom door had been wooden too, but it had been painted blue.
That made her feel just a tiny bit better, seeing that difference. She put her head back down, nodding again against Brittany as Brittany pushed the door open. She braced herself against Brittany, flattening her body as much as possible as though in anticipation of someone lunging out at them, but of course, nothing came. She could smell the faint scent of disinfectant and cleaner, but it was a different scent, more of orange than the overly lemon scent of the other bar's bathroom cleaner. This was a good difference too.
The previous bathroom had been a black and white tile floor, and it had been not very clean, as the bar had been open for hours. Santana didn't smell any strong odor of bodily fluids, as it must have been cleaned after it closed the day before. She didn't say anything at first, taking a deep breath, and then said shakily, "I don't want him to check on us. They, they must think I'm crazy."
She didn't say that she sort of thought she was too, sometimes.
She gave Santana some time, wanting her to at least look up and see where in the bar they were, pulling her out of her own mind and back to her current setting as much as she possibly could before she nudged the door open. She smiled when Santana did pick her head up to glance at the door, Brittany's hand still comfortingly resting against the side of her head as she looked. She was curious to see if actually seeing it would make her more upset, but was grateful that it didn't, patting her back gently when Santana returned her head back to Brittany's shoulder. "Good job Babe, it's okay. It'll be over before you know it," She hummed, feeling her tighten in her arms again, understandably so, knowing Santana was inadvertently preparing herself for the worst. "Kurt's not going to come check on us unless we need help or we're in here for a long time," She said, "He just knows where we are. No one thinks you're crazy," Brittany dismissed that easily. "They wouldn't have spoken to you if they thought you were crazy, and I feel like we all got along really well back there," She soothed, pressing a kiss to the top of Santana's head.
Taking a step forward, she felt Santana's body press even harder into hers. "I'm going to open it now," She narrated, not wanting to catch her off guard, wanting Santana to be aware of what she was doing even if she wasn't watching. Brittany had never been into tricking Santana or going behind her back in any way, even with things like the clothes - she didn't have to tell Santana about them, and Santana would've never known where they were, but she would never keep anything from Santana, even if made her upset, she knew Santana would want to know, would want to know everything. Almost everyone in her life had betrayed her in one way or another, and Brittany had no interest in ever keeping something from her.
She kept one arm around Santana as she pushed the door with her other arm, her palm flat against the wood, swinging the heavy door open while they stood in the hallway. Brittany nearly flinched, almost expecting someone to be hiding in there with how afraid Santana was, but quickly realizing that was ridiculous. Still, Brittany surveyed every square inch with her eyes, scanning every stall and corner of the four-walled room. "Okay," Brittany started, "Well, there's no one in here, it's not that big, I can see like, the whole thing," She explained, reaching out to prop the door open with her foot so she could hold Santana with both arms.
"The floor is like, tiny white tiles that are little squares it looks like, and it looks super clean," She started, "The walls are kind of painted a light grey, and the stalls are also light grey. It's kind of a nice bathroom for a bar," Brittany observed, thinking it looked fairly similar to a doctor's office bathroom. It was definitely clean, and the paint wasn't chipping or marked anywhere. "There are three stalls, but the doors are half swung open so I can see that no one is inside them," She confirmed.
"I'm going to step inside now," She said, hesitating for moment before crossing the threshold, letting the door swing shut behind them. Brittany glanced around, repeating, "Yeah, there's definitely nobody in here."
Stepping to the side, she stood in front of the sinks, glancing at the big mirror above the sink. "Hey," Brittany bounced Santana gently, "Look in the mirror, Babe. It's just us." She whispered in her ear. She knew she'd have to put Santana down to go to the bathroom, but she waited for Santana to initiate it, wanting to get accustomed to being in the bathrooom.
Santana isn't totally convinced that Kurt's friends don't think she's crazy. Hell, she's pretty well convinced that both Kurt and Rachel think she's crazy, and she hates to think either of them, the people she once denounced as pathetic, dorky Lima Losers, would pity her or feel sorry for her. But that isn't something she can overly focus on now as she braces herself for Brittany carrying her into the bathroom.
When Brittany's body briefly tenses, then relaxes, Santana nearly lifts her head up, wanting to see what had caused the instinctive shifting in her body language, but kept her head down in the end, still closing her eyes. As Brittany described the bathroom, Santana tried to focus on slowing her breathing, on actually hearing the words she was telling her. The bathroom she was describing didn't match up with the image of the bathroom she remembered, burned so clearly into her brain. This bathroom sounded okay. This bathroom sounded different.
No one was here. Brittany said that no one was here, and Brittany wouldn't lie to her. No one was here. Brittany was here, she was safe. Brittany would keep her safe.
Santana repeated this to herself over and over, trying to override the flashes of memory trying to push into her brain, trying to let her reasonable knowledge block them out. When Brittany continued to reassure her that they were the only ones in the bathroom, then asked her to look in the mirror, Santana initially resisted, but then, because it was Brittany, slowly lifted her head, staring at the images in the mirror reflected back at her. Brittany was right. The bathroom was completely different than the one in her memory, and there was no one there.
The girl she saw in the mirror didn't match with any image that Santana wanted to have of herself. The girl in the mirror looked pale and small and nearly shrunken in on herself, her eyes wide and red, and Santana quickly looked away, hating what she saw. Taking yet another slow breath, she nodded, avoiding her own reflection.
"Okay. Okay. I…let's hurry and do this."
Brittany stood still, in front of the mirror, letting Santana warm up to the idea of being in the bathroom or at least calm down marginally. It was dead quiet in there, the only sounds the two of them breathing, and Brittany shivered momentarily, thinking of what sounds probably filled the bathroom the night Santana was attacked. She felt her stomach roll for a moment and quickly dismissed those thoughts, knowing she couldn't waver, not here when Santana was already so stressed and tightrope walking the line of calm.
She smiled when Santana lifted her head, meeting her eyes in the mirror, pressing her lips to her cheek before she turned her head away from the mirror just as quickly as she'd looked. "It's just us," Brittany repeated softly, leaning her head against Santana's as Santana inhaled slow, long and controlled. "Good job, Babe," She hummed, knowing Santana was working to keep her breathing steady and actively trying to stay calm, knowing in their environment it was taking a lot of work. She held her close to her body, waiting patiently until Santana indicated that she was ready, not wanting to rush her, knowing she had to guide her with gentleness to avoid more upset.
"Okay, I'm gonna put you down now but I'll be right here," Brittany said, giving Santana ample warning before she gently unwound her arms from her and placed her hands steadily on Santana's ribs, leaning down so Santana's feet touched the floor. They stayed like that a few moments, letting Santana adjust to standing on her own in the bathroom and not being completely within the comfort of Brittany's embrace before she guided her toward the stalls, picking the nearest one to them and the largest. "You're okay," She soothed as they went, being sure to murmur a comforting reassurance to her every now and then.
Brittany followed Santana in without hesitation, clicking the lock behind them and then pressing her back to the door, knowing it was an unnecessary security but doing it anyway. "Just go to the bathroom and then we'll wash our hands and go back outside," She promised, giving Santana a brief plan and comfort of knowing what came next and that they'd be leaving the bathroom shortly. "I know you're scared but I'm proud of you, you're doing a really good job staying calm and focusing on me," Brittany nodded, knowing that, despite how triggering this was for her, Santana was still remaining in the present.
Santana wanted the moment Brittany put her down to turn around and grab for her again, but she forced herself to keep breathing, to let herself feel the ground beneath her feet of the bathroom floor and use it to remind herself that this was a different bathroom, a different building, in a different time in her life. She was okay. She was safe. Brittany was here, still keeping her hands clasped against Santana's sides securely, making sure she didn't forget for a moment.
As Santana slipped into the bathroom stall, grateful that Brittany came in with her and locked the door behind her, she clumsily went through the necessary motions of pulling down her leggings and underwear, her hands shaky and snagging, but managing to do the task. Sitting on the toilet, she reached up automatically for Brittany's hand, wanting continued contact even then, and squeezed it hard for several moments before her body finally relaxed enough to allow her to urinate. Her rigid muscles relaxed somewhat more with the relief of this, and still holding Brittany's hand, Santana wiped with her other, redressed herself, and flushed.
That was it. It was over. They could get out of the bathroom now immediately if she wanted to, hell, she could skip washing her hands and run, it wasn't likely she would give herself typhoid or something by skipping that one last step. But instead Santana wrapped herself tightly around Brittany, burying her face in her chest, and felt her body give another shudder partly of relief, partly of continued anxious memory flickers not quite pushed away, and before she was even aware of it as a threatening occurrence, she broke into tears.
"S-Sorry," she stammered, her arms wound tight around Brittany's waist, her face hot and working against the loose material of her shirt. "S-sorry...I-I know I'm okay, I know it's...I know. I just, I...I..."
She can't articulate what she is feeling, the mixture of relief mingled with pride, the lingering fear and stress of the memory also tainted with anger that something so small, so simple, should be so difficult and stressful for her. She just knows this feels hard, even now, even after almost everything is done, and for that reason, the stress of the difficulty of it all, it's brought her to tears.
Brittany smiled comfortingly as Santana reached for her hand, reaching out to close the short distance between them and hold her hand, rubbing her thumb in gentle circles across her skin. "It's okay," She nodded encouragingly, silently praying Dani (or Kurt) wouldn't swing the bathroom door open while they were in the stall, knowing it would scare Santana. She kept her hand in hers, waiting patiently while Santana pulled her leggings up and flushed.
"You did it Ba-" Brittany was cut off when Santana threw her arms around her fiercely, burying her face in the fabric of her shirt, her arms tight as she held Brittany to her. "Oh Santana," Brittany cooed softly, hugging her back and burying her face into Santana's hair. "I know Babe," She soothed as she felt Santana's shoulders rise and fall softly as she cried. Brittany was surprised Santana's tears hadn't come sooner, but she knew Santana had been fighting to keep composure and not get upset before they got in the bathroom, knowing that bottling all of her nerves up had to have been exhausting on her emotionally.
"I know, I know," Brittany hushed, "Just breathe. This was a big thing, and we didn't even plan it," She pointed out, knowing that asking Santana to do something hard when it was planned was completely different from asking her to do it spur of the moment. Brittany knew logically, it didn't matter, but that Santana was always much calmer if they went into things, anything with a plan that they both knew and details that they both repeated multiple times beforehand. It was a comfort, knowing what came next for her, and Brittany had been amazed at how well she'd done with going into the bathroom so abruptly.
"How about we go stand in the hallway for a minute?" Brittany suggested softly, reaching behind her back to unlatch the door. She didn't want to make Santana stand in there longer than she needed to, but she also didn't want to bring her back out into the main area of the bar, where they'd surely pick up on the fact that Santana was crying. She knew Santana needed downtime to process all her fears and stress and Brittany wanted her to be able to do it in a place where no one was going to see her and, similarly, a place that wasn't automatically a trigger for her.
"Come on, just walk with me," She said, stepping backward out of the stall, "You don't even have to pick your head up, we're just going to walk out the door," She cooed. Brittany remained backward, stepping behind herself, her arm still around Santana, her other arm stretched out behind her and feeling for the door handle, smiling when her hand landed on it. She pulled it open wide enough for them, catching it over Santana's head so it didn't swing into them as they stumbled through the doorway into the small, secluded hallway.
"Okay, okay, come here, you're okay," She said, leaning with her back against the wall, cuddling Santana even closer to her, feeling the dampness of her shirt against her skin.
Santana sobbed hard against Brittany, gripping her more tightly as Brittany's arms came around her to hold her up, to embrace her in return. She was barely aware of Brittany's face resting atop her head, of the gentle murmur of her voice soothing her. She held onto her as though she would fall apart in pieces on the ground if she let go, as though holding Brittany was the only thing keeping her together in one body, and part of her felt that this were true.
She couldn't get herself to breathe like Brittany was encouraging. Her heartbeat was picking up again in pace and her breathing was racing in and out of control so she almost felt like she was choking on her own tears. She felt Brittany gently pulling her out of the stall and out of the bathroom entirely, and she closed her eyes, trying to keep from seeing the bathroom more than she has to. She feels beyond overwhelmed, which she cannot understand, now that all the hardest parts are over. Why is she so upset now, when she already finished, when she knows she's safe and okay? Why is her brain so damn crazy and backwards?
As Brittany stopped outside of the bathroom in the hallway, Santana did manage to open her eyes and glance behind her with blurred vision, making sure the best she could that none of the others in the bar were coming up on them. She didn't see any figures approaching and so buried her face back in Brittany's neck, her crying picking up in speed with a strange sort of relief that she was able now to release some of what she was feeling. It felt awful to cry, to feel so scared and upset and angry and hurt all at once, but it also felt oddly good to let it come out.
"Th-that w-was hard," she almost whimpered, the words barely intelligible. "Th-that was so hard."
Brittany swallowed at the burst of emotion that erupted out of Santana, holding her as close as possible, her hand on the back of her head safely. "Shhhhh, I know," She hummed, knowing this had probably been building in Santana all day, especially when she had to use the bathroom. In a way, Santana had gotten much better at dealing with things, better at calming herself and stepping back off the cliff of her emotional precipice. However, occasionally, she powered through hard things and tests of her willpower while her emotions bottled up, only to come pouring out when she realized she was safe, when she knew it was okay.
She knew it would pass, rubbing Santana's back with long, heavy strokes over her hoodie, tucking her head down so she could murmur against Santana's ear. "I know Babe, it's over. I'm right here and you did it, I won't let anything happen to you. It's just you and me now," She hushed, even though it had been the two of them all along. "I've got you," Brittany promised as Santana's crying increased in severity, holding her flush against her body as she got all of her emotions out, knowing the very best thing she could do for Santana was be there for her and hold her until it passed. She knew Santana, right then, was at her most vulnerable state, completely not in control of her own emotions, and she knew it was her job to hold her together until she calmed, to hold all of her broken pieces together. If she let go, she would shatter.
"I love you, I love you, I love you," Brittany mumbled in her ear, pressing her lips against her ear gently as Santana sobbed into her neck, the sound filling the silent hallway. Faintly, Brittany could still hear the music playing and the din of a voice, grateful that no one had picked up on the sound of Santana crying or acknowledged their long absence. "Just let it out Babe, it'll be over soon," She hummed, knowing at that point, all they had to do was ride it out. She knew she couldn't say too many words to Santana for risk of overwhelming her, so she continued mumbling short, gentle comforts in her ear, letting her know she was there, letting her know she'd hold her through her tears. Resting her head on Santana's shoulder after her words had trailed off, she started humming, softly, a song with no tune or melody, a song that was just for them.
Santana's heavy tears began to slow at Brittany's continued focused attention on her, her sobbing giving way to quieter gasps and sniffles, and then gradually tapering off to only silent, occasional tears still escaping. She continued to hold onto Brittany with a firm grip, needing the continued close pressure and contact of her body to help herself calm down. She felt her body's shaking began to grow less pronounced, then die down to only an occasional shiver as Brittany rubbed her back, whispering to her.
Eventually she began to be able to focus enough on Brittany's words to her that she could hear them and take them in. Before, everything had seemed distant and removed in sound, as though everything from Brittany's voice to her own crying was taking place far away from where she stood. Now she was coming back into her body more fully, more grounded in the moment, and she could take in Brittany reassuring her that she was there, she had her, she wasn't letting go. She could take in Brittany telling her that she loved her.
It was Brittany's words almost as much as the steady, pressured contact of her touch that was able to bring Santana back to a calmer state. Her mind clung to Brittany's words, using them to paint over the darkness of her own thoughts and feelings, and she slowly loosened her grasp of her, although her head still remained heavy against Brittany's shoulder, her face against the skin of her neck. In a voice choked with tears, although they had stopped emerging, Santana finally whispered back to her.
"I love you too. Thank you."
Slowly she lifted her head, taking a deep breath, her chest rising and falling heavily with the effort, and took her arms from around Brittany with continued effort. She knows she must look very obviously upset, that her eyes are probably red and her face streaked with tears, but she doesn't want to go back into that bathroom, even if that means the others see her looking like this.
"Do they...did they see?" she asked, meaning Kurt and his friends.
Brittany held still, locking them both in the comforting embrace, keeping her strokes steady, humming her gentle song into Santana's ear softly, knowing that was all Santana needed and all she could do. She knew Santana knew where she was, that she was being held and that she was okay, her emotions just the release of doing one of the hardest things she'd done since the assault, in a place that was so full of triggers that Brittany was stunned Santana had actually done it at all. She pressed a few more lazy kisses against Santana's ear and the side of her jaw, the only two places Brittany could reach with Santana's head still pressed against the material of her shirt.
When Santana did start winding down and finding calm, Brittany felt it with her entire body. The way Santana's muscles slowly relaxed against her, the way her chest rose and fell, pressing against Brittany's much slower and more gently instead of hard and fast, listening to the way her cries settled as her breathing adjusted. "It's okay," she hummed, keeping up the rhythm of rubbing her back up and down slowly, not moving or pulling away, letting Santana readjust at her own pace and content to give her the time she needed.
She felt Santana loosen her grasp and smiled gently, lifting her head up and pressing a gentle kiss to the top of Santana's head, knowing the worst of their panic was over. "Of course," Brittany smiled, not bothering to remind Santana that she didn't have to thank her for anything. She slid her hand behind Santana's neck as Santana lifted her head, brushing through the waves at the nape of her neck. It was the first time she'd met Santana's eyes since the bathroom, and Brittany smiled at her lovingly, silently offering her reassurance and love in her gaze and promise that it was okay and she was there.
Santana's voice came out loose and watery and Brittany pouted, stroking the skin under Santana's ear with her thumb. "No, hon," She promised, shaking her head gently. "I don't think they heard us, I can still hear the music, and from the stage they probably can't hear anything," Brittany said honestly, sliding her hands to cup Santana's face, wiping her cheeks with her thumbs, collecting the remaining moisture and wiping the tear tracks away, holding Santana's teary gaze. "You're okay," She mumbled again, leaning forward to kiss her gently. "We can go home if you want," Brittany offered, her right thumb still stroking Santana's cheek idly. "Do you want to go sit back out there for awhile or go home? I don't think they'll mind either way," She promised, wanting Santana to be able to make the decision for herself based on how she was feeling.
Santana took several more breaths, continuing to gather her feelings. She let herself soak up Brittany's focused attention and affection, and when Brittany cupped her neck, smiling directly into her eyes, she could feel all strength of Brittany's love for her shining from her eyes.
She let Brittany continue to reassure her, cleaning her face for her, and closed her eyes, lightly returning Brittany's kiss with gentle pressure. She thought over Brittany's offer to go home, seriously tempted. She wasn't sure she could go sit back down like nothing had happened, especially if Kurt asked questions or if the others did. Despite Brittany's assurance they hadn't seen or heard her cry, Santana was sure it had been loud and obvious enough they would have been deaf to miss it, even with the music.
But her desire to continue to listen, and her determination to push through her own feelings rather than to give in and let them draw her back home, caused Santana to slowly pull herself up in posture, lift her chin, and take another breath in and out before pulling away just enough to walk on her own, still grasping Brittany firmly by the arm.
"No. I want to stay. We came to listen to them, let's listen."
She walked slowly at first but then with more genuine certainty rather than feigned to the table they had abandoned, making a gesture she knew Brittany would recognize for her to sit back on her lap. Leaning back against her chest and resting her head back against Brittany's shoulder, Santana tried to relax. She didn't recognize the current song they were singing, but it didn't matter. It was enough to sit for now.
She should see Kurt looking at her questioningly, searching her face, and rolled her eyes at him, relieved when he gave her a quick smile, accepting that she was going to be okay without halting rehearsal. She would give him this much, the dude had just a little more chill than Rachel, at least.
Brittany stood with Santana quietly, letting her hands do the talking as they smoothed over Santana's hair and brushed the tears and moisture off of her cheeks, Santana's gaze steady with Brittany's, her eyes communicating all the love and affection Santana needed to hear, the reassurance and steady ground and promise that Santana needed to be reminded of event thought in her heart of hearts, Brittany knew she never doubted her.
She couldn't say for certain if Santana would choose to stay or go, thinking them both equally possible options. On one hand, going home would give Santana the safety and the solitude she almost always craved. On the other hand, the hardest part was over and Santana knew that she was safe, knew that she was with people who wouldn't harm her and would help her if she needed it.
When she confirmed that she wanted to stay, Brittany smiled, ducking her head to kiss her as Santana straightened her spine and set her shoulders, growing a few inches compared to before when she'd shrunk and curled into Brittany's chest. "That sound good," Brittany grinned easily, thinking any idea Santana had or choice she made sounded good. It went without saying that there were times Brittany needed to lead them and make decisions and other times where Brittany needed to wholeheartedly follow along with whatever decision Santana made.
She gave her a comforting squeeze before they left the hallway, walking back to their table, her eyes flicking to the stage over the top of Santana's head as the trio fiddled with their instruments. If Dani and Elliott had heard them or were curious, they were doing a great job of making it seem like they didn't care whatsoever, adjusting the mic stand with precision and doing something with the guitar that looked a lot to Brittany like just tightening and retightening the strings. Kurt, however, was staring at them, and Brittany gave a slight, barely imperceptible nod in response to the question he didn't verbally ask, assuring him that all was okay.
Sitting down as the music picked back up again, Brittany let Santana snuggle back against her chest, watching Kurt meet Santana's eyes and giggling when Santana gave him an eye roll in return, watching him smile in response. Truly, she thought that reaction had probably reassured Kurt more than Brittany's nod had.
Sinking into the song, humming along when they got to the chorus, Brittany trailed her hands up and down Santana's arms over her hoodie, feeling her body relax against hers, tired and heavy from her outburst. "I love you," She hummed against the shell of Santana's ear, "That was really brave."
Santana knew that no matter what choice she would have chosen, Brittany would have supported it and gone along with it, at least when it came to choices that had nothing to do with eating or health. It was partly because of her full support of her that Santana was able to make the choices that were harder. It would have been easier to go home and do nothing, and she knew Brittany would still be proud of her for all she had done already. But Brittany would be even prouder if she stayed, and so she wanted to, so Brittany would be proud. Hell, she would make herself proud if she stayed.
She tried to keep her head up and eyes focused on their table as she followed Brittany back to their seats, but she couldn't resist sneaking a glance at the band members, especially Elliott and Dani, on the way. As Brittany had noted, Dani and Elliott seemed oblivious to her, almost suspiciously so to Santana, but Kurt took her eye roll and returned to talking to the other two with a smirk back of his own. They argued good naturedly about what song to include on their next setlist before settling on one to practice.
Her body loose and gradually relaxed against Brittany, Santana moved her head slightly to kiss Brittany's cheek, nuzzling her nose against it with affection and silent thanks. "I love you," she murmured back.
It was something so small, for most people- going to a public bathroom, sitting and listening to a band play. And there were variables to make it even less of an accomplishment, since Santana knew at least one band member and both the bathroom and the bar were empty. But for Santana, those actions had been huge, almost monumentally so, and she found herself smiling not so much in response to the band as to her own steadily growing sense of pride in herself.
She had really done this. She had really, actually managed something that she once would have never thought she could do again. And she was okay. Tired, a little emotionally wrung out, but she was okay.
