|Out of the Blue
Author: terriblemuriel PM
Santana gets slushied and finds herself turning to someone that she never thought she would to deal with her feelings.Rated: Fiction T - English - Drama/Angst - Santana L. & Kurt H. - Chapters: 2 - Words: 2,424 - Reviews: 7 - Favs: 12 - Follows: 22 - Updated: 08-04-11 - Published: 04-02-11 - Status: Complete - id: 6870367
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
When it comes, Santana is shocked but not surprised. Ever since she quit Cheerios, she's been half expecting to get a slushie to the face, but as it's been a few weeks since she took her uniform off for good and nothing happened, she's gotten complacent.
There she was, walking to trig, not thinking about anything other than her unfinished homework and the hole in her heart that has yet to close even though it's been several days since it was rent open, when the icy beverage slams into her face. For a moment she can't breathe, it's so cold it hurts. She gasps and stops, stunned, right in her tracks. She brings her hands up to wipe her stinging eyes and turns to identify her attacker.
Dave Karofsky isn't surrounded by his usual henchmen and he isn't laughing. He is alone and holding the tell-tale empty Big Quench cup and as he passes Santana he doesn't say a word. His hard glare meets her eyes and that is all it takes for her to know why it happened. This attack isn't about Cheerios or Glee club and it isn't about being Latina or even a girl. No, none of those differences warrant him giving her a slushie facial. This is about hatred on a much more personal level. This is about both of their greatest fears.
Karofsky sneers as he throws the cup to the ground. His eyes are like flint, hard and stony enough to spark a fire, and Santana feels them burn on her skin more than the icy syrup that is currently dripping down her face and neck, settling into her cleavage. Suddenly the quiet that enveloped them both is gone. The moment of shock passes and the halls erupt in nervous laughter. Titters and whispers surround Santana as she moves purposely away from Dave and toward the restroom. Several students snap pics with their phones before she can escape. The moment for revenge passes without her even giving it a thought. So much for Brittany's faith in her ass-kicking abilities: maybe she can think up some vicious vicious words later, but right now her mind is blank. She can only think of one thing and it is to run away. Away from Dave and his vitriol, away from the talks and the looks of her peers, away from the hole in her heart.
Unfortunately, all of those things shadow her. Well, Dave doesn't literally follow her to the bathroom, but as she stands at the sink trying to clean herself with wet paper towels (why can't the school provide tissue that is not one step away from actual tree bark?) his look haunts her. If she closes her eyes she can still see it burning into her, so she keeps them open, ignoring their sting. She hums to herself to keep the sounds of the laughter and taunting at bay. But neither humming nor scrubbing proves effective enough to stop the tears that threaten or the panicked breathing that turns into sobbing.
What she wouldn't give to have Brittany at her side. But the blonde is not a part of her life anymore, not in any of the ways that she was. Not as a friend, not as a lover, not even as a teammate. As she weeps, salty tears tracking through her blue-stained cheeks, Santa knows that all of her fears are coming to fruition. The loathing, the teasing, the talking behind her back, these things have just begun and knowing what she knows about McKinley High, there is no end in sight. She was willing to risk them all when she thought she'd have Brittany by her side, but now? Now, she knows that this is not worth it. But what choice does she have now? Apparently, her secret is out.
After Santana cries herself out and cleans as much of the slushie as she can off her face, neck and chest (damn slushie ruined a good bra). She takes a deep breath and steels herself, knowing she has to go back out there. She also knows she's going out there alone. There's no Brittany at her side, no Cheerios at her back. It's just her and every ounce of Lima Heights attitude she can muster.
That deep breath she just took leaves her lungs, her body deflating like a balloon. She can't. She just can't. No Brittany, no Cheerios, and an entire school hungering for her blood. She has no one. She is no one. Suddenly, she's on the verge of tears again. She never realized that being herself meant being so alone. She never realized that being herself would ever be this hard.
When it comes, Santana is shocked, but not surprised. The urge to reach out for help is anathema to her. It's not what she does. But somehow she finds the cell phone in her hand, her fingers touching the number she never in a million years thought she would call.
"Hello Kurt? It's Santana. Can we talk?"