Keep Holding On

1. Just Stay Strong

I'd always known there was something different about Santana and Brittany. I mean, if the way Santana couldn't keep her eyes off her in glee club was any indication. I thought it was only a matter of time before they got together. But then, Brittany and Artie started seeing each other, and I found myself disappointed. They were cute and all, but you could just see the heartbreak in Santana's eyes whenever they were together. So, looking back, I can say yes, I knew.

Then, one day, I was sitting out in my baby in the McKinley parking lot, waiting for Mercedes to show so we could go shopping when I saw something I don't think I've ever seen before: Santana was crying. She came bolting out of the building, wiping her eyes and sniffling. I'd never seen her so vulnerable, and it struck something inside me. Before I knew what I was doing, I flew out of the car and ran up to her. "Santana?" I asked, and she turned away, refusing to look me in the eye. "Santana," I said, more firmly this time.

"Scram, Lady Lips," she hissed over her shoulder, but made no effort to leave herself.

"Santana, just tell me what's wrong," I nearly pleaded, having no idea where this sympathy was coming from. "I'm not going to judge you."

At that she snapped, turning to face me with a glare cold enough to freeze boiling water. "Oh, yeah? Well, why wouldn't you? Everyone else has. Why would anyone feel any sympathy for me? I'm just the bitch that walks around insulting anyone and everyone she can get her hands on! Why the hell would anyone want to help me?"

I sighed. I honestly didn't know. Why was I helping her? She'd never done anything for me. "Because," I said finally, "no matter what you may think of us, we're your friends, Santana. And we wouldn't just throw you out in the streets when your life takes a bad turn. We'd be there to help you." I turned around to walk away. She obviously didn't want my help, and besides, there's a designer scarf at the mall I have my eye on and I'm not about to let someone else get there first.

"Wait," she called after me, all anger gone from her voice. She walked up to me, grabbed my wrist and began to drag me in the direction of my car. Before she could ask what I was doing, she said, "Open it," in a way that was probably supposed to be forceful, but her voice cracked. I did as I was told and she jumped into the passenger seat and slammed the door shut. As soon as I'd sat down in the driver's, she started talking, hesitantly at first, like she thought I was going to laugh at her. "So, Ms. Holiday came in glee club this week to give us a lesson on sex education, right?" I tried to refrain from scoffing. So that's what Sue was talking about... "Well, I was hanging with Britt, and she was telling me we should see an adult, because our 'relationship' was really c-confusing," she choked out. "So, we talked to Ms. Holiday and she got us to sing 'Landslide' in glee club, which made me realizing something."

"You love Brittany," I finished for her, and she looked up at me with big brown eyes, her cheeks stained with her eyeliner running down her face.

"How did y -" she started, but I cut her off.

"Santana, trust me, my gaydar is just about as finely tuned as they come," I said with a chuckle.

Santana's eyes went wide as she immediately shot back, "I'm not gay." I refrained from rolling my eyes because, really? What did she think I was going to do? Laugh? Kick her out of my car? Tell people? "Santana, you don't have to hide anything from me. Do you honestly think I'd judge you about this? You're talking to the boy who's car got taken away because his dad found his tiara collection in his hope chest. I mean, after much begging and pleading, I got it back, of course..." This got the tiniest bit of a giggle from her, but she still looked distressed. "There's more. Tell me."

"So, I went up to Brittany and told her everything. I told her how I f-felt, and she shot me down. She said she was in love with A-Artie." I was a bit taken aback. That didn't really sound like Brittany. "I'm just so scared. I'm so scared of what people would say behind my back. Everyone's already calling me a slut and a bitch, I'd rather not they throw in d-dyke."

Oh my god. It's like looking in a mirror. An emotional mirror. Santana's face began to scrunch up as she let a new wave of tears flow, and I immediately pulled her into a hug. "Santana, I promise, I know exactly how you feel. Trust me, I've been there. You don't want to tell anyone you're gay because the possibility of being gay sickens you. If even you hate yourself, imagine how other people will react. Right?" I felt her nod, and continued. "But trust me, denying it will get you absolutely nowhere. It'll just make you hate yourself even more. It'll make your look at the fake life you're living and say, 'if I were straight, this could be real. I could be happy.' Santana, trust me, there was a point in my life where I dreaded getting up in the morning. I hated who I was. I'd have done anything to be anyone else. But I was ashamed for a different reason, I imagine, then you are. My dad." She looked up at me with eyes that almost broke my heart, but I went on. "I love my dad more than anything in the entire world. He's everything to me. But my dad and I, we're very different. He runs an auto repair shop and watches football. I was so terrified that if I told him I was gay, he'd be so ashamed. I was scared...that he wouldn't love me anymore." I had to swallow the lump in my throat as I recalled my memories. "But you're afraid of what other people will think. You don't want what happened to me to happen to you. And while I can almost certainly guarantee that no one will be throwing you in dumpsters or shoving you into lockers, there is the slushee issue to worry about. And, of course, what the other girls will say and giggle about at sleepovers. You don't want to any more isolated then you already are. Am I right?"

"How do you know all this stuff?" she asked, sounding like a scared little girl asking her mommy how she knew there weren't monsters under her bed.

"Because I've been in exactly the same spot. You've just got to stay strong. Someday, this town full of ignoramuses will realize that we aren't aliens from another planet. But for now, you've just got to stay strong. Will you do that for me, Santana?" I said, and I felt a smirk play across her face as she nodded. "Good. And remember, I'll always be here for you, okay?"

"You're a really great friend, Kurt," she sniffed. "I guess I should've given you a break when you were at McKinley." She paused. "I'm sorry for the whole Frank-N-Furter thing."

"Oh, that was Mr. Schue's prejudice, not yours," I chuckled. I looked over Santana's shoulder to see Mercedes looking at me like I was juggling severed hands. "There's Mercedes. We're supposed to go shopping today." I paused. "Would you want to come with us?"

Santana wiped her eyes, then gave me the first genuine smile I've ever seen cross her face. "I'd love to," she said.

Awww! I just really need some Kurtana friendship! Don't you think? Because, if you ask me, he'd be able to give her some pretty worthwhile advice! This is set, obviously, towards the end of Sexy, when Santana storms away from Brittany after telling her she's in love with her. Kurt's still at Dalton and Karofsky's still an issue, hence his hiding in the car.

PS- I feel like the biggest idiot in the world. I'm like, 'check me out on tumblr!' then don't give you my link. well, here it is: sarcasticandcondescending .tumblr. com. Except, minus the spaces, obviously. Sorry about my dorkiness.

Until next time!