Lover Dearest 4/20
Chapter Two [Part Two]: …but it might be alright if you go.
It was very rare for me to feel brave.
And I don't mean the kind of "bravery" that involved doing extremely stupid things like jumping from roof to roof as a proof of badassery (grade school. Puck dared me to), or sneaking liquor into school and spiking the drinking water system (high school. Again, Puck - this time we collaborated though). Those things were all for show. Those were the things I used to do to make people realize I was a force they simply could not mess with. And, for most part, it worked: people stayed clear of me, avoided me, called me a tough bitch in tones of fear and respect.
But bravery? The real kind? That was something else.
It was something I never really understood properly. But at that moment after winning Sectionals, with Brittany's arms wrapped around my waist, my arms tight around her shoulders, the New Directions cheering all around us, I felt brave. I felt invincible, like I could take on the entire world with Brittany by my side and emerge victorious.
I felt like every moment in my entire life had built towards this moment, as though this was the peak and everything was just a lot of low. This was the moment I was born to experience, the moment that would redefine everything. This was the moment where everything felt crystal clear, like everything was falling into place, like all the pieces which had initially seemed isolated and incoherent had finally come together.
"Santana." Brittany gasped when she pulled away, her face flushed and her chest heaving. Her face was a masterpiece, the different lights of the stage casting shadows across her flesh, emphasizing every plane and dimple, highlighting a magical blend of so many emotions: shock, triumph, confusion, uncertainty, but above all, happiness. Happiness I had longed for so long to be the cause of, happiness that had nothing to do with the trophy Mr. Schue was busy waving around in the air ecstatically. Winning was great, but this, right here, right now? It eclipsed everything else that had ever happened to - and because of - me.
"I can't believe you just did that." She murmured, leaning her forehead against mine and inhaling deeply. It was amazing. There was still so much noise around us but I could hear her perfectly clear, as though there was a tunnel straight from her lips to my ears. Her voice, soft and joyful, was a music I'd never heard really fully before, sinking into my skin and rushing to my heart, forcing it to beat on and on and on.
"I'm tired of hiding." I murmured back, closing my eyes at the honestly burning in my words. It was true. There were still so many things I was afraid of - but seeing her with Artie made me realize that losing her was my greatest fear of all. I wasn't about to let it happen.
She smiled and pressed a softer kiss on my lips. "I'm so happy." She admitted, silent tears suddenly making their way down her cheeks. "San, I'm so happy, it scares me."
I laughed softly, wrapping my arms around her and hugging her tightly to me. "Me, too, Britt." I inhaled deeply, her scent washing across my senses, renewing every single corner of my being. "I've never been happier in my entire life."
She beamed at me, just as the audience around us began to make their way to the exits. In the distance I could hear Mr. Schuester calling for us to get backstage to change out of our outfits so we could go out and celebrate, but I couldn't care less if he was telling us that we'd won a billion dollars and a trip to all the wonders of the world.
Brittany was worth more than all the money in the whole damn world, and to me she was the most amazing wonder in the universe. Nothing could top that.
"We should go." She giggled. "Mr. Schue's calling for us."
"'Don't care." I mumbled, smiling. "He could leave us here if he wanted. I have everything I need."
She made a cute smile. "That's really sweet, San." She paused. "But I'm really hungry and my feet are starting to hurt." She paused, pouting. "Did Achilles wear heels, San? If he did, I'd totally understand why his heels were his weak spot."
I laughed, pulling back. I swung one arm around her waist and began to walk her to the stage door to the backstage. "No, he didn't." I told her, smiling. "But I get your point. These heels are killing my feet, too."
We spent the rest of the evening with the New Directions, eating a fully-paid dinner at Breadstix. For once, I didn't even bother to eat that much of the breadstix, instead contenting myself to watch Brittany as she ventured in and out of conversations, interacted with the rest of the club, and talked about her platform on taking away the slushie machines in the school, as well as the mechanics of the rainbow candy distribution every Friday, while the song Friday played. It was amusing, but for most part it was just amazing. She was amazing, and breathtakingly so.
It was perfect. But everything usually looks perfect from far away.
Almost four hours after winning, we all decided to head home. The rest of the New Directions took separate cars or were picked up by their parents, and Finn had volunteered to drop Rory off at the Pierce's for us. Britt and I decided to walk to her home. It wasn't that far away, and we were both looking for an excuse to spend time alone. In hindsight, it was probably a really, really stupid idea. I mean, walks in the moonlight were romantic and all, but I should have factored in the variables "small town" and "homophobic town" before I concluded that it was safe.
"So, can I call you my girlfriend now?"
"You can call me anything you want." I assured her, squeezing the hand inside mine. She smiled.
"I feel like there's this fire inside me that keeps making me warm." She sighed, smiling up at the sky. She stopped walking all of a sudden, pulling her hand form mine. Cupping them around her mouth, she yelled into the dark, open sky, "Hello world! Santana Lopez is my girlfriend!"
I laughed at her adorable antics. In the back of my mind I was amazed that I wasn't frightened, or worried, about any of this. I was completely free of the burden of being afraid of the world.
Then I felt something hard break against the back of my head.
I whipped my head around in shock, receiving another object - I realized it was an egg - directly in my face. It was utterly nerve-wrecking and disorienting, like a cold bucket of liquid nitrogen hurled over my body.
"Here you go, full serving of eggs. I hear that's what you like, right?" What felt like a bucketful of eggs was suddenly dropped on my head, the thin shells splitting open at the impact. Cold, yellow egg yolk began to trail down my face, my mind too shocked to even try to retaliate. I understood the implications and the innuendo clearly, and quite frankly it disgusted the hell out of me.
Fight, my system screamed at me. Fight back, no one messes with Santana Lopez, no one messes with Santana Lopez, no one messes…
Brittany screamed.
For the second time that night, my entire body just seemed to freeze. "Brittany!" I yelled into the night, trying to clear the yellow dripping blocking my view. "BRITTANY!"
"I thought you liked pussy?" I heard a voice calling out tauntingly to her. The stench of burning meat suddenly filled my nose trills, and I felt sick to my core. "Well, this is freshly cooked cat. Isn't that the sort of thing you eat out?"
Oh, God, no. Fuck, no. Giving up on clearing my view, I followed the sound of the voice, ramming my left fist in a jab as hard as I could. When I felt it connect against a body, I sent my right hand in a straight, hitting the body again. I packed everything I had in a horizontal elbow I sent to the space where I imagined his head to be. When I heard the sickening crunch of breaking cartilage, I finished with a vertical knee to the place where his crotch should be.
"NO!" Two strong arms wrapped around my midsection and hoisted me upwards. I didn't even realize I was yelling, all I could hear was the sound of Brittany sobbing nearby.
I was tossed unceremoniously to the side, and I hear someone mutter, "Shit, the cops!" before the sound of feet crunching on soil filled the air. "Fuck, get Dan, he's bleeding all over the fucking place!" someone was hissing loudly.
"NO! Leave him, leave him, we gotta get outta here," another voice snapped. "His fault for being such a damn wimp, couldn't even handle attack from a fucking dyke. I told you he was going to fail his fucking initiation, the stupid little bitch."
The soil from the ground was sticking to my yolk-covered hands, and I wiped it as thoroughly as I could on the material of my denims. The sound of police sirens combining with the painful slam car doors closing and tires screeching filled the air, and I began to wipe my face on the sleeves of my shirt. "Brittany?" I called out hoarsely, my throat raw. My eyes were unfocused for a moment, before I managed to see everything around me clearly.
She was curled in a ball around twenty meters ahead, rocking back and forth. The boy I'd attacked - I assumed he was named Dan - was moaning in agony around five feet away. I kicked him in the shin, just to make sure he would be too immobilized to escape before the police arrived. Then I bolted towards Brittany, wrapping my arms around her and shielding her with my body.
"I'm so sorry," rushed out of me, as I rocked her back and forth. "Oh God, Brittany, I'm so sorry." She began shaking her head, making high-pitched gasping sounds that told me she was about to hyperventilate. "Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit," I rambled out, looking around for something to use to contain her breathing. Just as a full-blown panic attack was going to hit her, the squad cars parked around the edge of the sidewalks, and policemen began to run towards us.
"Is everything alright? What happened?" A man in uniform called out, running to me.
"Paper bag," I cried out desperately. "Plastic bag. Something. Jesus, she's hyperventilating here."
A paramedic rushed towards us, paper bag in hand. He carefully pried Brittany away from her locked position, before applying the bag to her face.
"Miss, what happened?" The policeman asked again. Someone threw towel over me, keeping me warm.
"I…" I didn't even know how to explain it. I mean, fuck, I didn't even know what happened. It just fucking happened. "We were attacked." I finished lamely.
The policeman nodded. "Alright, miss…?"
"Santana." I supplied, wondering for a brief moment how this whole scene must look to him: a hysterical girl hyperventilating in one corner, a bleeding boy in another, a girl covered in soil and broken eggs talking to him, the smell of meat filling the air. "Santana Lopez."
"Oh, Doctor Lopez's child." He replied. He gestured towards Brittany. "And that is…?"
"Brittany. Brittany Pierce. She's my -" The word died in my throat.
"I see." He murmured thoughtfully, nodding. He gestured to the boy on the ground. "I assume this was your attacker."
"I -" My mind was unraveling at a rapid pace. It just hit me. We were attacked. It was no random, harmless attack either. They knew who we were, what we were. They made that perfectly clear. Motherfucker, my mind was sprouting out in panic. Motherfucker, motherfucker, motherfucker.
"Santana, stay with me here." His voice called out, snapping me back into reality.
"One of many." I answered. "It was a hate crime." I blurted out, shock filling my system as the words left my mouth.
He nodded again. "I thought as much."
"It was also an initiation." I added, clinging to the conversation I overheard while they were rushing to escape. "He was being initiated." I tossed my head towards the boy's direction, wrapping my arms around myself and holding on tightly. "I think his name is Dan." I whispered, my throat constricting.
The policeman looked over to the boy, who was being attended to by paramedics. "Who beat him up?"
"I - I did." I confessed. "It was… He was attacking her. They were taunting her with…" I felt my throat close up. I swallowed as hard as I could, forcing myself to talk. "…cat meat."
He frowned in confusion.
"Cat." I tried to explain. "Cat, you know." He still looked lost, so I sighed and said, "Cat, pussy." I closed my eyes. "And she loves cats." I added in a small voice.
The policeman nodded again, jotting the details down on a notepad I didn't even notice he was carrying. "And you're covered in eggs." He added abstractly, making another note. "Alright. We'll take the boy to the station and question him there." He looked at me, with something akin to pity burning in his eyes. He reached out and laid his hand on my shoulder for a brief moment. "A squad car will escort you home."
My head whipped around to look at Brittany. She was relatively calmer now, and a policewoman was finishing questioning her, holding her hand tightly. When the woman nodded in finality and stood up, I made my way over to her.
"Brittany?" I approached hesitantly. Her gaze lifted to me, and she stood to embrace me to her tightly. I sighed in relief and hugged her back, burying my head in her shoulder and taking deep, calming breaths. "I'm so sorry I couldn't stop them." I murmured weakly. "I'm so sorry." Tears burned my eyes. She pulled back abruptly to cup my dirty face in her hands.
"I love you." She said simply.
Everything felt much better then.