Science of Fear, Zwitterionic - Part One of Two
Title: Science of Fear, Zwitterionic (3/15)
Pairing: Brittany/Santana, Brittany/OC
Rating: T (for now)
Disclaimer: I do not own anything Glee or song related, just Dylan.
Spoilers: Through s02e11
Summary: Fear. It forces you to do things you regret. And that's just what happens to Santana, causing her to run away from the one person she loves the most. Can one stranger help her defeat those fears or will she just lose Brittany to her for good?
Author's Note: So there is something I find special about this story that I want to point out; it's in the music. There are 29 songs overall and some chapters are very heavily themed. Each song has been chosen for a reason and the lyrics integrated for importance. I've always found it useful to listen to the songs in fics as I read them, so I hope to soon have a complete soundtrack up!
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“Santana! Wait up!” Dylan shouted as she ran out of the choir room after the Latina. The girl had been giving her fleeting, evil glares all through Glee rehearsal from across the room and Dylan was starting to get uncomfortable under Santana’s gaze. Every time she would catch a glimpse of Santana staring she would shift uncomfortably and unconsciously move closer to Brittany. The blonde didn’t seem to mind her proximity, though, so she wasn’t complaining about that.
She had been nothing but courteous and open with Santana, and Dylan wasn’t the type of person to promote tension between people when there was no reason for it. She caught up to Santana where she had stopped, her back still turned to Dylan. Placing a hand gently on her shoulder, turning Santana she asked, “Hey, what’s up? You okay?”
Santana huffs at Dylan for a second before shrugging her hand off, “Yeah I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be?”
“Oh,” Dylan replies, sadness evident, “I don’t know, you’re just so… so cold.” Dylan is met with a raised eyebrow, challenging her statement. “Towards me, I mean. And I’m not sure why.”
“Really?” Santana huffs in disbelief, “you have no idea?”
“Um… no, it’s not like you’ve actually been talking to me, I barely know anything about you, actually,” Dylan replies, shrugging her shoulders and averting her eyes towards the ground. “I mean, I know I’m the new girl and everything so do I have to earn my dues or something? Cause frankly, that’s stupid.”
Santana just stood there, staring at Dylan, obviously deep in thought. Dylan shifted uncomfortably under her gaze until she grew tired of Santana’s harshness.
“Okay fine, whatever, seriously Santana, unless you actually admit to having a problem with me or confront me for doing something wrong, you have no reason to be acting like this,” Dylan states harshly, obviously growing tired of the whole situation. “I like you, Santana, you seem like a pretty cool person and I would like to be your friend, but I’m not going to waste my effort on a lost cause.”
“Who ever said I wanted a friend anyway?” Santana asks.
“You didn’t need to say anything,” Dylan says, staring intently into Santana’s eyes and taking a step closer. “I’m good at reading people. But you already know that don’t you?” The gaze Dylan gives her is challenging.
Santana is quiet for a while until she straightens up, accepting Dylan’s bait, “Well, maybe you’re not as good as you think, Dylan. You don’t know me,” Santana snaps.
“And whose fault is that, huh? It’s not like I haven’t been trying here,” the tone in Dylan’s voice has escalated and the last thing she wanted to do was get into a fight with a girl after just starting at a new school. She takes a step back, unclenches her hands and takes a deep breath before she continues. “Look, if you don’t want to be my friend fine, just don’t start shit when there is no grounds for it, cause that’s fucked up,” Dylan responds, her face now showing signs of disgust.
Santana retreats a little with Dylan’s words, but doesn’t say anything, her stare remaining hard.
Dylan expects Santana to counter and start screaming at her. It’s obvious Santana is the type of person who loves to start problems and is willing to initiate drama just for the sake of something to do. But instead she is surprised when Santana just shakes her head and turns to leave. Santana didn’t even make an effort during the entire confrontation. Watching the girl leave brought sadness to Dylan’s heart as Santana headed for the exit at the end of the hall. There was obviously something going on inside the other girl’s head, some sort of conflict.
Just before Santana was about to exit the building, Dylan called to her, “You don’t have to be alone, Santana.” Santana stopped with her hand on the handle and glanced over her shoulder at Dylan before pushing through the door to the parking lot. “You don’t have to be afraid either,” Dylan shouted as the door closed, unsure as to whether the retreating girl would actually be able to hear her.
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As the week progressed, Dylan kept to her word. She stopped trying to befriend Santana. This was something Dylan hated doing. She had always been a friendly person and it never made sense to her how someone could be so cold right off the bat. What did Dylan ever do to her? But it was wrong of her to push Santana into something she was uncomfortable with and Dylan understood that, so she maintained her distance.
Instead, Dylan decided to do her own personal research, in an attempt to understand the mystery that was Santana Lopez. Dylan hadn’t been lying when she said she was good at reading people. Sure she seemed quite talkative now, but there were moments when Dylan would just sit, and watch, and learn.
She could tell that Santana was lonely the first day she met her, it’s one of the reasons why she tried so hard to befriend her. So sure, Santana had shot her down and given her the cold shoulder, but Dylan was almost positive she would come around on her own time, when she was ready, so instead, Dylan used this time to observe.
Santana held herself a certain way, one that Dylan had seen before. For those who just thought of her as Santana Lopez, HBIC, they saw exactly what she wanted them to see. But what Dylan saw was a scared young girl whose biggest fear was letting anybody see her for who she really was.
Dylan watched as the cheerleader strutted down the hallway, throwing the underclassmen evil glares here and there. Dylan listened as she threw insult after insult towards Rachel, or Mercedes, or Lauren even. It seemed as though at this point, the other Glee girls had grown immune to Santana’s slandering. It probably hurt Rachel the most though, Dylan decided, after learning about what happened during Sectionals between her and Finn.
But Even though Santana continued to trash talk her teammates, Dylan could see she in fact did not like doing it. After everyone else had given up and turned back towards their own business, Dylan’s gaze remained subtly on Santana, and she could see the sadness in her eyes after she called Rachel a chicken-killing Jewish dyke for the third time this week.
The sadness Dylan saw in Santana’s eyes made her want to continue to try and befriend her, and she made a bit more of an effort to make eye contact with the girl. There were many times she actually caught Santana staring at her, usually while she was sitting with Brittany in class or in Glee. So each time she made eye contact, Dylan threw her a small, caring smile in hopes that it would show her she was still willing to be her friend. But to her disappointment, Santana’s stoic nature remained otherwise intact and she maintained her distance from Dylan.
It was still relatively early in the week but Thursday was soon approaching for Dylan’s first Glee assignment. So after school on Tuesday, when she didn’t have training for softball, she met her group in the choir room to practice their song. As she entered the room, she spotted Brittany and Rachel gathered by the piano, along with a boy she had never seen before.
“Hey, guys! Sorry I’m late, had to meet with my English teacher to discuss what I need to read to get caught up, ready to practice? Where’s Artie?” Dylan asked, coming up besides Brittany, placing a hand on her shoulder.
“Dylan! Yes of course we should get started, Artie had to go home, he had a doctor’s appointment but he told us to go ahead and practice without him” Rachel quipped, “But first, I’d like you to meet someone very special,” she said with a huge smile on her face. “Dylan, this is Kurt! Kurt, Dylan, our new teammate.”
“Kurt? Kurt Hummel?” Dylan asked, eyeing the handsome boy in front of her. He smiles and shakes his head politely while waving slightly with the hand he had been using a moment before to adjust his hair. “Wow, Brittany has told me so much about you! It’s great to finally meet you, and wow, you are fabulous, I love what you are wearing.”
“Really? Why thank you, Brittany,” Kurt says, giving Brittany his best boy-charm smile. Brittany squeals and rocks up and down on the balls of her feet. “And thank you, Dylan, I have heard a lot about you too. I’m glad Glee has been able to attract someone so confident and accepting.”
“Well how could I not join? With Rachel’s voice and Brittany’s dance moves,” Dylan laughs, “it was a no brainer. But they sure miss you, Kurt. I swear at least once in every practice since I’ve been in Glee, someone mentions how much they miss you.” Rachel turns toward Kurt and nods her head happily.
“Awww I know, I miss you all too,” Kurt says, pulling Rachel into a hug, “But I had to leave, you know that.”
“Yes, I heard about that, I’m really sorry about what you went through, Kurt. Is there anything I can do?” Dylan asks, “ We are ‘Family’ after all,” Dylan says as she makes a inward swooping motion with her right hand, index finger and thumb coming together to make an ‘O’ shape with her three remaining fingers held out straight.
“Family? Well yes, Glee has always been my family,” Kurt replied, seemingly confused.
“Oh,” Dylan states, “No, I mean our other Family,” she says repeating the motion.
“I don’t get what you mean,” states Kurt, obviously confused at this point.
“Oh, Kurt, Dylan is gay! Just like you, silly,” Brittany pipes in before Dylan can clarify for Kurt. Dylan gives Brittany a small squeeze and a smile with the arm she had subtly place around her shoulders. She was surprised Brittany actually knew. It wasn’t that she hadn’t told Brittany for a reason; Dylan just didn’t disclose her sexuality unless it was 100% relevant or unless someone asked.
“Oh, really?” Kurt asks, “That’s… wonderful. But what do you mean by family?”
Dylan laughs, reminding herself that she is indeed in Ohio. “Me, sister,” She says pointing to herself, “You, brother,” she states pointing at Kurt. “We, together, are ‘Family’.” Dylan makes the small motion with her hand again.
“Oh okay, I understand, but he hand thing?” Kurt asks.
Dylan smiles and removes her arm from around Brittany to fully face Kurt. “In sign language, the motion for “family”, as in my family, goes like this,” Dylan shows Kurt, making her left hand mimic the motions her right made moments ago, at the same time so she ended with both of her palms facing her chest. “So when you find a member of the LGBT community, they are part of our ‘Family’,” Dylan informs her teammates, making the single motion with her right hand. “It’s just something me and my friends used to do back home, whenever we would go to the City or meet someone new. Kind of like a secret code,” Dylan adds on in the end.
“Oh, that is just adorable, I’ve never heard of that before,” Kurt says, hands clasped together happily.
“Yes, I’m going to have to show my dads tonight, I bet they would love that,” Rachel adds in.
“Dylan, you’re so smart,” Brittany says, grabbing one of Dylan’s hands and squeezing it excitedly. Dylan feels her cheeks growing hot as she looks up at Rachel and Kurt who are giving her questioning, but amused looks.
“Aw, Britt, you’re sweet, but I don’t even remember who came up with that,” Dylan says, rubbing the back of her neck with the hand Brittany isn’t currently attached to.
“Well, I’m glad that you got a chance to meet Kurt, Dylan, but we really should get practicing,” Rachel speaks up before turning to Kurt. “Kurt, we would be very honored if you would join us in our number, you can fill in Artie’s spot for the day.”
“Oh my god, Rachel thank you, I would love to,” Kurt says excitedly, “Is that okay with you ladies?”
Brittany jumps up and down happily while Dylan answers, “Yes, of course, but only if you and me go shopping this weekend, you have got to give me some tips.”
“Oh, a fashionable lesbian? Why of course, my dear,” Kurt replies taking Dylan’s right hand in his and gracefully bringing it up to his lips to place a gently kiss on the back of her hand. “It would be an honor,” he finishes with a slight bow.
“Oh, good sir, but the honor is all mine,” Dylan plays along, feigning a mock British accent as she jokingly curtsies in response to Kurt’s bow.
“Oh you guys are just fabulous, I love it,” Rachel smiles as she beckons Brad into the room to sit at the piano. “But come on, let’s get started. Dylan, have you and Brittany been working on those dance moves?”
“Um, yeah we have, though I’m quite sure I’m rubbish at dancing,” Dylan responds, moving to take her place in the middle of the choir room.
“No, Dylan, you’re not bad,” Brittany counters as she moves to take her place next to Dylan. “You’re actually kind of hot,” she says, this time just a whisper as she leans in and speaks into Dylan’s ear.
The rest of the rehearsal is just a blur. Dylan couldn’t seem to clear her mind, Brittany’s words floating above the surface the entire time. She had grown increasingly embarrassed after that and every time she touched Brittany, she felt sparks.
After practice, she made her way to her locker. She had to be careful. She knew Brittany had a boyfriend and Artie was a pretty alright kid, but the looks and touches Brittany was giving Dylan were also growing more intense. She actually felt bad for how forward she had been in her first week of knowing Brittany, so she had decided to tone it down a bit. It was obvious that Brittany was into girls, but she was dating Artie, and Dylan would not force her to make any decision she didn’t want to. Although, Dylan was starting to think Brittany wanted to.
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Wednesday seemed to go by faster than normal. Dylan’s head was still in a daze after what had happened during Glee rehearsal the day before, and she couldn’t help but wonder what would happen during rehearsals this afternoon. They couldn’t be as long because she had softball practice today. Their first one outside, something she was not looking forward to. Ohio winters were cold.
But coach wanted them to start using the turf field as soon as possible, and with threats of a late winter snow approaching, it was best to do it now. Soon they would be confined to the weight room and gymnasium until the snow melted.
Dylan was so caught up in her thoughts, she realized at the end of the day that she had not been observing Santana at all. In fact, she would have guessed she hadn’t been in school at all if it wasn’t for the fleeting moment they had when they almost walked into each other on their way into Mr. Schuester’s class. And even then, it seemed as though Dylan was completely unaware of what was happening, too busy caught up in her own thoughts, with a huge silly grin plastered across her face.
During rehearsals, they barely had time to go over the whole song, and were focused more on Artie’s placement than anything else. Dylan noticed that Brittany was a little less touchy than she was before, jumping away from Dylan every time Artie turned to speak to her. As disappointing as it was to have Brittany touching her less, in a way it was very educational.
Brittany was obviously nervous to be seen doing anything by Artie, even if anything meant completing the dance moves they had worked out specifically for their number. This was a good thing; it meant that Brittany had more than just friendly intentions behind her subtle touches. Perhaps the blonde was just as smitten as Dylan was.
At the end of rehearsals, Dylan made sure to give Brittany an extra long, tight hug, kissing her gently on the cheek. She felt Brittany giggle and hug her tighter. Dylan gave her one last tight squeeze before releasing the blonde and picking up her gear.
“I gotta go, Britts, gonna be late for practice,” Dylan says. “But lunch tomorrow? We’ll go over our moves one more time, okay?”
“Definitely,” Brittany responds, turning slowly back towards Artie as Dylan leave the room.
Dylan jogs down the hall, thanking herself that she found the time to change into her uniform and underarmour before going to Glee. She makes it out to the field behind the school just as the team started to make their way out of the first base dugout.
Practice went well, actually. Since the field was turf, there were no awkward tufts of grass or hard patches of sand. Dylan couldn’t even count on her fingers how many scars she had from sliding over razor sharps patches of sand. This was the team’s first real practice, since prior to this it had just been drills and conditioning. Dylan was happy with how they functioned together.
The coach obviously knew what she was talking about and had the players run exercises until they were practically flawless. The cold wasn’t even bothering her anymore. Coach had at least let them keep their sweats on and they were being active enough so their body heat kept them warm.
The team had been out there for a few hours when Dylan noticed movement on the bleachers near the first base dugout. It was hard to tell who it was from Dylan’s position in left field but she could definitely tell it was a Cheerio. Dylan’s attention was drawn back towards practice when her coach called for her to catch the next pop up. She sets her feet and gets ready for the ball to be hit her way.
Dylan follows the flight of the ball from the second it leaves the bat and she can already tell its going to be over her head. She takes a step back and opens up, sprinting towards the outfield fence, eyes never leaving the ball, until it begins the final decent of its trajectory. Dylan slows her run and circles around, placing herself directly under the falling ball. She follows it all the way into her glove, securing it with her free hand before sending the ball back towards the relay-man. Another perfect pop-fly.
As Dylan trots back to her normal position in left field, she eyes the new observer, catching a flash of brown as the Cheerio takes a seat near the top of the stands. Dylan can’t help but feel a ping of disappointment. She had hoped that the Cheerio had been Brittany, but was instead left questioning who the new fan was.
After a few more routine plays, the coach called it a day. It was starting to get dark and the setting sun resulted in a drop in temperature. Dylan made her way back towards the dugout to change out of her cleats and gather up her other gear. Before she entered, she chanced a glance up towards the bleachers. She was shocked to see that it was Santana sitting on the cold metal benches, fidgeting slightly as she met Dylan’s gaze.
Curious as to why Santana had come to see her during practice, Dylan packed quickly, shoving her glove into her bag and gathering up her bat, placing it in the proper compartment. As she exited the dugout with her team, she said her farewells and turned to walk towards the bleachers where Santana now stood near the bottom, having moved from her spot at the top.
“Hey,” Santana says softly.
“Hey, everything okay?” Dylan asks, worried at Santana’s quiet tone.
“Yeah, of course,” Santana replies, kicking at the dirt with her white, Cheerios-edition sneakers, hands dug deep in her pockets. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
Dylan studies the girl, unsure of how to deal with her sudden change in attitude. “Um, I don’t know, why don’t you tell me?” Dylan offers. “I mean, this is a bit of a surprise.”
“Yeah, I know.” There is a long pause in which Dylan has no idea what to say next, so she waits for Santana to continue, not wanting to rush the girl. “So um, how did you get so good at reading people?” Santana finally offers.
Dylan chuckles, remembering her and Santana’s last actual conversation, “Not sure, people are so different from one another. I always found it fascinating to watch how different people react to different situations.” She smiles as she recalls memories from her early childhood. “I used to watch people on the bus when I was a little kid. Guess it just grew from there.”
“And you can tell what they’re feeling just by looking at them?”
“Sometimes,” Dylan supplies, shrugging her shoulders and taking a step towards Santana, who is leaning against the edge of the bleachers. Dylan places her bag on the ground and moves to take a spot next to Santana, glancing up towards the school in the distance. “But most of the time I can see it in their eyes. You can tell so much about a person just by looking into their eyes.”
“Never happened to me, and I make eye contact with people all the time.”
“I’m not talking about the evil death glares you give people, Santana, and besides, you’re looking at them but they’re not looking at you.”
“So what do you see in people’s eyes then?”
Dylan took a second to consider the situation she had found herself in. She was having a serious, legitimate conversation with apparently the biggest bitch in school. She smiled at this because she knew that she had been right about Santana all along. Taking a deep breath, she answered the other girl saying, “You can see their hearts, what they are truly feeling. If you’re spiritual and whatnot, I guess you can call it looking into their soul.”
Santana doesn’t answer, just nods her head slightly as she looks up, turning her head towards the now deserted softball field. All the other girls had already left, leaving the unlikely duo behind. “You’re pretty good Dylan, at softball, I mean.”
“Nah, not really. I mean, I was pretty decent back home, but this is more intense than I’m used to.” Another strained silence descends on the pair as Dylan searches for the next thing to say, or for Santana to continue. Whichever one comes first. “I saw your heart, you know.”
Santana turns around to face Dylan, staring at her intently. “And what did you see?” The question is just barely above a whisper.
“Honestly?” a small nod is her answer, “I saw fear. And sadness, so much sadness it actually made me a little sad inside.”
Santana gives a small smile but turns her gaze back towards the dirt under their feet. “I’d never admit that, you know.”
“I know. Doesn’t mean it’s not true though,” she pauses before she continues. “In a way, saying that is admitting you are afraid.”
“But what am I afraid of, Dylan?” Santana asks, pushing herself up off of the bleachers and taking a few steps forward. “I mean I have everything I need to survive at this damn school. I’m one of McKinley’s most feared. So what do I, of all people have to be afraid of?”
Dylan straightens up from where she was leaning on the bleachers and steps up behind Santana, placing one hand on the other girl’s shoulder, gently turning. “The only thing you are afraid of is yourself, Santana. You are afraid to be who you really are.” It’s all so simple really, Dylan is sure Santana already knows this but understood that she needed to hear it from an outside source before she could actually come to that conclusion.
Santana looks up to meet Dylan’s gaze. Her brown eyes are full of conflict, bottom lip quivering, but Dylan holds her gaze noticing how beautiful the smaller girl is when all of her defenses are down.
“You shouldn’t be afraid, Santana; you are strong enough to be your own person. Do what makes you happy, not what others tell you to do,” Dylan is holding her by both shoulders now, trying to get her point across.
Dylan had no idea what kind of response to expect out of Santana after telling her all of this. She half expected to be slapped in the face before having Santana yell at her to shove it down her throat. She wouldn’t have even been shocked if Santana broke down and started crying in her arms. But what did shock her was that Santana did neither of these things.
It was sudden and Dylan barely had time to process the small glance Santana gave her lips before finding the other girl’s attached to hers. It was a soft kiss, hesitant and cautious and Dylan didn’t know how to react. It took her a few seconds before the shock lifted and she realized she was actually being kissed. So she kissed back.
She felt Santana’s hands come up to cup her cheeks as the kiss deepened, the soft lips of the other girl pushing harder against her own. She felt Santana’s hands glide gently down her neck until they in turn came to rest on Dylan’s shoulders. The kiss came to an end and when Dylan opened her eyes she met Santana’s. Her hands had dropped from the other girl’s shoulders to Santana’s hips, where the lightly rested.
Dylan could still feel Santana’s breath on her cheek. She was unsure what to do next. She hadn’t expected Santana to kiss her, after all. There must have been a good reason behind it. Before she could stop herself Dylan leaned forward, claiming Santana’s lips once again.
This kiss was more heated than the last, lips open slightly and wetter than the one before. But as Santana drew Dylan closer to her body, hands fisting her uniform top, and experimentally running her tongue along Dylan’s bottom lip, clarity struck the taller girl.
Dylan pulled back suddenly, causing Santana to stumble forward a little.
“What the fuck? What was that for?” Santana asked, some of her usual demeanor obviously starting to resurface.
“I… I’m… I’m sorry, but I can’t, I can’t do this,” Dylan replies.
“Why the fuck not?”
“Santana, I would love to be your friend, to be there for you if you need me. But I can’t be your experiment. Especially when I have feeling for someone else.”
“And just who do you have feelings for?”
Dylan sighed and cursed herself for initiating the second kiss, it was wrong and she knew it. She lifted her head to speak to Santana in nothing more than a whisper, “Brittany.”
Santana takes a step back with a look of disgust on her face. “You’re fucking kidding right? She has a damn boyfriend, Dylan, what are you expecting? And I already told you. Brittany isn’t like that.”
“And I’m telling you, she is,” Dylan purposefully avoids the mention of Artie. She is well aware of that part of the situation.
“God, you are so irritating!”
“Hey you came to me, Santana; I’m still willing to be your friend.”
“I don’t want to be your damn friend, Dylan,” Santana turns to leave, hands clenched into fists. “I hope you fucking melt into a damn puddle, Frosty.”
“Santana!” Dylan calls, “Santana wait. Come on!” But it’s no use. Santana isn’t making any effort to turn around.
Dylan growls in frustration as she makes her way over to the cold metal benches of the bleachers where she plops down, head in her hands. She wasn’t even through her second week at McKinley and already drama was starting. Dylan hated drama. She pledged to avoid it at any cost, but it was probably inevitable at a place like McKinley.
Dylan lifts her head and crosses her arms on her lap and leans forward, gazing out over the turf field, glowing orange in the setting Lima sun. Dylan’s head was a mess of emotions as she played through the day’s events. And now she had her first big performance as a member of the team with Glee tomorrow. It was almost too much to think about.
Part Two of Two