Fic: I Know Things Now (1/2)
Title: I Know Things Now (1/2)
Pairing: Santana/Brittany
Rating: R, just to be safe
Summary: Based on some super awesome fan art that can be found here! Santana's father isn't so kind when she pretty much tells him that she's in love with Brittany.
Spoilers: None really, but there is brief domestic violence.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. At all. This is also my first Britanna fic. And I haven't written anything for a long time. So, enjoy?
She knew she should call her. Instead she was standing outside of CVS, trying to put band-aids over her cuts and trying to not wince or cry. Especially cry. She didn't cry when she looked her father in the eye. And she didn't cry after the first blow. Weakness was not an option. Instead, she pulled her red hoodie closer to her bruised and puffy face.
She hadn't planned on it. Well, she hadn't planned on the beating. Being kicked out, maybe. But this. Being used as a punching bag was something she never thought her own father would do.
---
"Mija. You can't go stay at her house tonight."
"Dad, we have Glee tomorrow morning. We can't let the competition beat us this year. Especially those Carmel dou-"
"Santana!" Her dad cut her off from the doorway.
"Sorry." She was pulling her boots on. "I already told her we would go over songs. Besides, why do you care?"
Her father just watched. She smiled at the mere mention of her blonde friend. Something not sitting right in his gut. "You spend too much time with her. Why don't I ever see Puck or the shaggy haired boy?"
Santana snorted. "I spend time with her because she's my best friend. And boys are stupid. No offense."
"I don't like it. And I see the way she looks at you. It's not right mija."
Santana froze at her fathers last statement. "Not right? Are you serious?" As she tried to squeeze past him, he dropped his arm in the doorway. Causing her to take a step back.
"It's wrong. The bible says it. Man shall not lie with man." He just stared at her. Fear starting to bubble deep in Santana. The fear that she suppressed while walking the halls at school. The fear that she felt deep in her soul.
"Well, it's a good thing I'm not a man."
It happened so fast she wasn't sure that it really had happened. All she felt was the sting across her left cheek. She looked at her father, rage quickly rising. The large vein in his neck was pulsing. Santana had never seen her father this angry. Not even when he chased Puck out of her window.
"What the fuck!?" It was the first thing that came to her mind as she clutched her face. "What is wrong with you?"
The anger and hurt in Santana's voice only fueling her father's rage. Bringing the back of his hand to the other side of her face, causing her to back into her wall. "No daughter of mine-"
"What? Not daughter of yours will what? Love? Be loved? Be loved unconditionally? What is so wrong about that? I love her. No, I'm in love with her. How is that wrong?" She was screaming without realizing it. Standing up to the man who had loved her and protected her. Seventeen years. Seventeen years and this was how it was going to end.
Hit after hit came down. All she could do was try to block him. Block the angry fists and hateful words that were spat at her. She screamed for him to stop. Begged. But she didn't cry. She waited. Waited until her body gave out and she slumped in the corner, all too aware of the bleeding and bruises.
"Get out of my house." It was said with a quiet rage that scared the small battered teenager. "Get out." He said it over his shoulder as he left her room.
As quickly as she could, she gathered her things. A few clothes, her books, laptop, a few photos, and the small gifts that Brittany had given her over the years. She pulled on a red hoodie, trying to cover her battered face and left through the window. Not wanting to give her father a second chance at anything.
---
She had a few hours before Brittany and her family would return from their usual Friday night out. So she stopped at CVS to buy some bandages. She received a few looks from the other customers and cashiers, but all she could manage was a mumbled Fight Club reference.
So she was there. Standing outside the CVS attempting to patch herself up. Debating on calling Brittany to come pick her up. Pride, of course won the battle.
"Santana?" She lifted her gaze to the grating sound that was Rachel Berry. "Santana, are you OK? Oh my goodness you're bleeding!"
"Leave me alone Rachel." She was in too much pain to come up with a new insult. Something that did not go unnoticed. But all it made Rachel do was move closer to look at the darkening bruises on Santana's face. Worry clouding her face as she took in the darker girls injuries. "What part of leave me alone, did you not get?" Too exhausted to put any venom behind it.
"You're hurt. What happened? Who did this to you? Where are you going? Are you OK?" All of her questions coming out at once as she tried to pull Santana's hood down. The action made Santana back up and wince at the sight of hands coming towards her. "Santana! Look at me!"
"Look Berry, nothing happened. I, uh, I tripped. So will you please, please just leave me alone?" The last came out as a quiet plea. Rachel just nodded and took a step back, giving Santana room to pick up her bag and walk away. As Rachel watched her limp away, she took out her phone and sent Brittany a text.
---
"Rachel, slow down. What's going on?" Brittany had squeezed out of the booth at Breadstix and gone outside.
"Someone beat her up. She told me she tripped, but Brittany, she was bleeding. And she's limping."
"What? What do you mean she's limping?" Panic creeping into her voice.
"Well, I'm sorta following her."
"Where is she?" Brittany was on the verge of tears. Not knowing what was wrong with Santana. Not knowing where she was. And worst of all, not being there for her.
"She just turned onto, uh, Spruce Street."
Relief flooded the blonde. "Will you watch her, make sure she makes it into my house?"
"Yeah, sure. It's not a problem."
Neither hung up as Rachel watched from her car as Santana climbed the trellis that lead her to Brittany's window.
"She's in."
"Thank you Rachel."
"Brittany, take care of her."
"I will. Thanks."
Brittany hung up the phone and wiped the few tears that had dared to fall. She walked up to her family still at the booth. "Can we go home?"
"But pumpkin, our food just got here. What's wrong?"
"I, uh, it's Santana. I think she's hurt. And she's waiting for me. Please." She looked at her father, who just nodded. Silent understanding in his kind eyes. He called the waiter and had them box their food up and bring the bill. "Thank you." The Pierce family piled back into their car and headed home.
"Please pick up. Please pick up." Straight to voicemail. She couldn't even get a hold of her to find out what was wrong. All she could do was will the 20 minute drive home to go by faster.
---
As soon as she climbed through Brittany's window, she breathed a sigh of relief. Not realizing that she hadn't really been breathing. As carefully as possible, she removed her clothing and walked into the bathroom and started the shower. Only when she caught her reflection did she gasp. Her torso was bruised and lines of dried blood had caked around a few gashes.
Easing herself under the stream of warm water, she let her muscles relax. Finally feeling the damage that had been done to her small frame. She stood there, staring at the drain until the water ran clear. Watching any love for her father go down with with blood and sweat that had been cleaned from her body.
All she did was fall in love. How was that a bad thing? How could her own father, who was programmed to love her no matter what do this to her. Cause her this much pain. All for being herself.
After carefully drying herself off and applying a few bandages, she put on the only thing that didn't hurt. A pair of black boy shorts, before climbing onto to Brittany's bed. She inhaled her scent, letting exhaustion and heartbreak carry her into a dreamless sleep.
---
Brittany slowly opened her door, not sure of what she would find. Her heart sank when she took in the sight of the small girl laying on her bed. Bruises, welts, and a few gashes marred her usually perfect skin. Skin that was meant to be caressed, kissed, but never struck. She quietly made her way to the bed, discarding her shoes and jeans on the floor before slowly climbing onto the bed.
At the dip of the mattress, Santana stirred, slowly rolling over to look at Brittany. Clear blue eyes sought out dark ones. Only to find hurt and fear staring back, unshed tears threatening to spill over. Brittany simply cupped her face and brought her lips gently against her own. Santana let out a choked sob as she grabbed handfuls of Brittany's shirt.
"I, I-"
"Shh, shh, shh. It's ok. You're ok." Brittany carefully wrapped her arms around Santana. Feeling her body shake as she finally let her walls come crumbling down.
"I don't have anywhere to go." Was all she managed to choke out between sobs.
"I'm here. I've got you baby." She repeated the words to her until the sobs became whimpers. "I love you. I've got you."
As Santana relaxed in her love's arms she whispered a quiet "I love you" before drifting off to sleep.
Pairing: Santana/Brittany
Rating: R, just to be safe
Summary: Based on some super awesome fan art that can be found here! Santana's father isn't so kind when she pretty much tells him that she's in love with Brittany.
Spoilers: None really, but there is brief domestic violence.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. At all. This is also my first Britanna fic. And I haven't written anything for a long time. So, enjoy?
She knew she should call her. Instead she was standing outside of CVS, trying to put band-aids over her cuts and trying to not wince or cry. Especially cry. She didn't cry when she looked her father in the eye. And she didn't cry after the first blow. Weakness was not an option. Instead, she pulled her red hoodie closer to her bruised and puffy face.
She hadn't planned on it. Well, she hadn't planned on the beating. Being kicked out, maybe. But this. Being used as a punching bag was something she never thought her own father would do.
---
"Mija. You can't go stay at her house tonight."
"Dad, we have Glee tomorrow morning. We can't let the competition beat us this year. Especially those Carmel dou-"
"Santana!" Her dad cut her off from the doorway.
"Sorry." She was pulling her boots on. "I already told her we would go over songs. Besides, why do you care?"
Her father just watched. She smiled at the mere mention of her blonde friend. Something not sitting right in his gut. "You spend too much time with her. Why don't I ever see Puck or the shaggy haired boy?"
Santana snorted. "I spend time with her because she's my best friend. And boys are stupid. No offense."
"I don't like it. And I see the way she looks at you. It's not right mija."
Santana froze at her fathers last statement. "Not right? Are you serious?" As she tried to squeeze past him, he dropped his arm in the doorway. Causing her to take a step back.
"It's wrong. The bible says it. Man shall not lie with man." He just stared at her. Fear starting to bubble deep in Santana. The fear that she suppressed while walking the halls at school. The fear that she felt deep in her soul.
"Well, it's a good thing I'm not a man."
It happened so fast she wasn't sure that it really had happened. All she felt was the sting across her left cheek. She looked at her father, rage quickly rising. The large vein in his neck was pulsing. Santana had never seen her father this angry. Not even when he chased Puck out of her window.
"What the fuck!?" It was the first thing that came to her mind as she clutched her face. "What is wrong with you?"
The anger and hurt in Santana's voice only fueling her father's rage. Bringing the back of his hand to the other side of her face, causing her to back into her wall. "No daughter of mine-"
"What? Not daughter of yours will what? Love? Be loved? Be loved unconditionally? What is so wrong about that? I love her. No, I'm in love with her. How is that wrong?" She was screaming without realizing it. Standing up to the man who had loved her and protected her. Seventeen years. Seventeen years and this was how it was going to end.
Hit after hit came down. All she could do was try to block him. Block the angry fists and hateful words that were spat at her. She screamed for him to stop. Begged. But she didn't cry. She waited. Waited until her body gave out and she slumped in the corner, all too aware of the bleeding and bruises.
"Get out of my house." It was said with a quiet rage that scared the small battered teenager. "Get out." He said it over his shoulder as he left her room.
As quickly as she could, she gathered her things. A few clothes, her books, laptop, a few photos, and the small gifts that Brittany had given her over the years. She pulled on a red hoodie, trying to cover her battered face and left through the window. Not wanting to give her father a second chance at anything.
---
She had a few hours before Brittany and her family would return from their usual Friday night out. So she stopped at CVS to buy some bandages. She received a few looks from the other customers and cashiers, but all she could manage was a mumbled Fight Club reference.
So she was there. Standing outside the CVS attempting to patch herself up. Debating on calling Brittany to come pick her up. Pride, of course won the battle.
"Santana?" She lifted her gaze to the grating sound that was Rachel Berry. "Santana, are you OK? Oh my goodness you're bleeding!"
"Leave me alone Rachel." She was in too much pain to come up with a new insult. Something that did not go unnoticed. But all it made Rachel do was move closer to look at the darkening bruises on Santana's face. Worry clouding her face as she took in the darker girls injuries. "What part of leave me alone, did you not get?" Too exhausted to put any venom behind it.
"You're hurt. What happened? Who did this to you? Where are you going? Are you OK?" All of her questions coming out at once as she tried to pull Santana's hood down. The action made Santana back up and wince at the sight of hands coming towards her. "Santana! Look at me!"
"Look Berry, nothing happened. I, uh, I tripped. So will you please, please just leave me alone?" The last came out as a quiet plea. Rachel just nodded and took a step back, giving Santana room to pick up her bag and walk away. As Rachel watched her limp away, she took out her phone and sent Brittany a text.
---
"Rachel, slow down. What's going on?" Brittany had squeezed out of the booth at Breadstix and gone outside.
"Someone beat her up. She told me she tripped, but Brittany, she was bleeding. And she's limping."
"What? What do you mean she's limping?" Panic creeping into her voice.
"Well, I'm sorta following her."
"Where is she?" Brittany was on the verge of tears. Not knowing what was wrong with Santana. Not knowing where she was. And worst of all, not being there for her.
"She just turned onto, uh, Spruce Street."
Relief flooded the blonde. "Will you watch her, make sure she makes it into my house?"
"Yeah, sure. It's not a problem."
Neither hung up as Rachel watched from her car as Santana climbed the trellis that lead her to Brittany's window.
"She's in."
"Thank you Rachel."
"Brittany, take care of her."
"I will. Thanks."
Brittany hung up the phone and wiped the few tears that had dared to fall. She walked up to her family still at the booth. "Can we go home?"
"But pumpkin, our food just got here. What's wrong?"
"I, uh, it's Santana. I think she's hurt. And she's waiting for me. Please." She looked at her father, who just nodded. Silent understanding in his kind eyes. He called the waiter and had them box their food up and bring the bill. "Thank you." The Pierce family piled back into their car and headed home.
"Please pick up. Please pick up." Straight to voicemail. She couldn't even get a hold of her to find out what was wrong. All she could do was will the 20 minute drive home to go by faster.
---
As soon as she climbed through Brittany's window, she breathed a sigh of relief. Not realizing that she hadn't really been breathing. As carefully as possible, she removed her clothing and walked into the bathroom and started the shower. Only when she caught her reflection did she gasp. Her torso was bruised and lines of dried blood had caked around a few gashes.
Easing herself under the stream of warm water, she let her muscles relax. Finally feeling the damage that had been done to her small frame. She stood there, staring at the drain until the water ran clear. Watching any love for her father go down with with blood and sweat that had been cleaned from her body.
All she did was fall in love. How was that a bad thing? How could her own father, who was programmed to love her no matter what do this to her. Cause her this much pain. All for being herself.
After carefully drying herself off and applying a few bandages, she put on the only thing that didn't hurt. A pair of black boy shorts, before climbing onto to Brittany's bed. She inhaled her scent, letting exhaustion and heartbreak carry her into a dreamless sleep.
---
Brittany slowly opened her door, not sure of what she would find. Her heart sank when she took in the sight of the small girl laying on her bed. Bruises, welts, and a few gashes marred her usually perfect skin. Skin that was meant to be caressed, kissed, but never struck. She quietly made her way to the bed, discarding her shoes and jeans on the floor before slowly climbing onto the bed.
At the dip of the mattress, Santana stirred, slowly rolling over to look at Brittany. Clear blue eyes sought out dark ones. Only to find hurt and fear staring back, unshed tears threatening to spill over. Brittany simply cupped her face and brought her lips gently against her own. Santana let out a choked sob as she grabbed handfuls of Brittany's shirt.
"I, I-"
"Shh, shh, shh. It's ok. You're ok." Brittany carefully wrapped her arms around Santana. Feeling her body shake as she finally let her walls come crumbling down.
"I don't have anywhere to go." Was all she managed to choke out between sobs.
"I'm here. I've got you baby." She repeated the words to her until the sobs became whimpers. "I love you. I've got you."
As Santana relaxed in her love's arms she whispered a quiet "I love you" before drifting off to sleep.