The Hostage (Brittana)

6

Santana's POV
I climb out of the shower, squeezing the water out my hair. As my foot makes contact with the floor towel, it slips out from under me and I land hard on my back. A scream escapes my mouth from the shock, and Brittany sprints through the door.
B-"Are you okay?"
S-"I just fell. I'm fine, really"
I try to get up while holding the towel but my foot slips again. Brittany walks over.
B-"Do you need help?"
I'm trying to listen, but I can't focus. All I can see is her towering over me. If she tries anything, there's no way I could escape. And I just can't trust her or anyone here. Not after what Quinn did to me.

Brittany doesn't seem to realise how I feel down here. I'm terrified. The towel she's given me barely covers me up, and I'm trying to pull it over me. Brittany takes a step forward and I press myself further into the corner. She doesn't seem to notice, and keeps moving forward. As she lowers herself down to me, I keep thinking that this is it. This is where she rapes me, hurts me, and kills me.

But I'm surprised when she offers me her hand. I take it tentatively and let her pull me up, holding onto my towel with the other hand.
B-"I'm going to help you get dressed, if that's okay. You will only hurt yourself more, doing it by yourself."
She notices my hesitation and I can see her adding everything up in her head. How scared I am, how this must look from my angle. Her eyes widen, and then fill with sadness and...guilt?
B-"Santana, listen. I won't hurt you. It's not right, and I would never do that to you. Quinn was out of order, but it's not because of you. She has issues, and I wasn't there to help her. But from now on, I'll make sure that nobody else lays a finger on you."
She says it all softly, and her eyes never leave mine. I find myself nodding, and somehow I know that she's telling the truth.

I let her guide me over to sit on the closed toilet lid. I tuck the towel around me as she looks around in a cupboard. "Aha" she says under her breath as she pulls out a first aid kit. I sit still as she puts band aids over the cuts and grazes Quinn gave me, and applies cream to the bruises. Her touch is soft and her hands are cool, and it's actually quite nice. It's been a long time since someone has cared for me that way.

She finishes and I'm almost sad. Then she goes through to her room and returns with a sports bra, underwear, shorts and a hoodie.
B-"If you want I won't look, I'll just pull them over your head."
I nod to show her that I'm okay with it. She puts the sports bra on first, and I quickly pull it over my shoulders without showing too much. Then she hands me my underwear, and I manage to slip into them. The shorts follow, then the hoodie. When I'm fully dressed, she goes into her room and comes back with a hairbrush and two hair ties.

"Stay here" she instructs and strays to brush my hair. It's so weird. This is like I'm at my friends house or a sleepover, except I'm in the bathroom of a gang leader who's friends just beat me up. Weird.
But I'm not going to complain, she might be like Quinn and just snap.

She fiddles around with my hair before tapping me on the shoulder and whispering "you're done" in my ear. I look in the mirror and see that she has somehow tamed my hair into two Dutch braids. They are near perfect, and sit over each shoulder.
B-"So do you want to go back down to the basement or you could come and have dinner with us?"
S-"Isn't it like midnight?"
B-"It's our only free time. Half of them will probably be sleeping anyway."
I can do Brittany, but I don't think I can do the rest of her gang. If they're anything like Quinn, which they probably will be, I'm not taking any chances.
S-"I'll just go back to the basement."

Brittany nods and I think that for a second she looks hurt, before she wipes all emotion off her face.
"Come on them" she says quietly and grabs my arm. We slowly walk downstairs, my legs still aching, and she doesn't let go once. When we finally reach the basement, Brittany has to pick me up  and carry me down the last set of stairs.