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Run Baby Run

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You smile at Santana. She can't see it but you don't care. She so... you don't really have a word for it. You just have all these feelings. The feelings that make your whole body warm, from your nose to your toes. The feeling of a million butterflies in your stomach and tingles in the small of your back. She makes everything better. She has since you met the summer before sophomore year.

                "So, I was thinking," Santana turns around from where she's standing at her desk, sorting through some papers. Her eyes meet yours and she smiles. You love it when you can make her smile without actually doing anything. "That after you buy me a new bra," she pauses while you giggle. You didn't mean to ruin her old one. It just got frustrating and sometimes you don't know your own strength. There's a twinkle in her eyes that lets you know that she's not really mad at you. "We go see a movie."

                "Which one?" you ask, stretching out on your bed.

                Santana takes a step toward the bed and you get hopefully for a little playtime before you go to the mall. She leans forward on the footboard. "Well, you know how you've never seen The Princess Bride and it's like my favorite movie?"

                You nod. Something always happens when you two plan to see it together. Surprise Cheerio practice or some kind of glee drama.

                "Well," Santana smiles at you. "They're playing it tomorrow at that old theatre downtown. Ten in the morning. Wanna go?"

                She's so cute when she's nervous even though she doesn't have to be. "Yeah," you sit up and take her hand. You pull her as you lay back down and she puts her knees on the bed before she falls on top of you.

                She has that smile on her face. The one that means she is honestly and truly happy. She sits back, resting on your thighs. Her hands are hot and smooth as she rests them at the top of your cheer shorts. You'll never get enough of her. She's everything you never knew you needed.

                You take her hands and thread your fingers through hers. She smiles at you, dipping down for a kiss. She pauses right before her lips touch yours. You know this game. So you meet her in the middle, your lips crashing together in the softest of ways.

                She breaks the kiss and tries to sit back up, but you roll her onto her back. You let go of her hands so that you can rest your forearms on the bed, your hands tucked under her shoulder. You lower your face to her neck. You love the way she smells. The ways she breathes when she's under you, deeply and like every breath is her last. You place a soft kiss on her neck and then move to just lay there, your head on her chest.

                She gently pulls your hair out of the loose ponytail it was in and runs her fingers through your hair. You don't know how long you just lay there, but you could do it for the rest of your life. "I love you, San."

                "I love you too," she echoes. You feel her kiss the top of your head.

                You may not know what you want to do with the rest of your life, but you know that you want to do whatever it is with her by your side.

                You feel more like yourself with her than you've ever felt before.

                However, it's too soon when she has to go home. Her family started having a family dinner every Friday night since Santana came out. You're glad that her family loves her so much they'd stop doing everything to have dinner with her - to support her.

                "I'll see you tomorrow," she leans back on her car next to the open door, "Do you want to meet there or should I pick you up?"

                You always walk her outside just to spend a little bit more time with her. You rest your hands on her hips and leans against her, trapping her between you and the car. "Pick me up?" You ask.

                She smiles and puts her arms around your neck. Her eyes light up when she looks at you and you love it. You kiss her without waiting for her to move into you.

                "I love you," you tell her resting your forehead against hers. You never let to leave without telling her that. You always, always make sure that that's the last thing you say to her before you part.

                She smiles because she understands. She doesn't know the reasons, but she goes along with it. You like to think she likes it too. She gives you one last peck before you step away. "I love you too."

                You watch as the taillights of her car fade down the street. Then you walk back inside with a smile on your face.

                "Brittany," you hear are you're asleep in you bed. "Brittany wake up." You try to roll over, but the voice is persistent. "Brittany!"

                You finally open your eyes. Your dad is at the foot of your bed. You finally make out the loud rumbling of a truck outside. There are people banging around all over the house and soon men with boxes walk into your room. One of them starts putting all of the things on your desk into it and the other starts taking down pictures. The sudden realization hits you.

                "No!" you yell, flying out of bed. You push the man that's taking down all your pictures of you and Santana together. "No!" You can already feel the tears streaming down your face.

                "Honey we have to," your dad says evenly.

                "No!" you grab a handful of pictures out of the box and hold them against your chest, "You promised!"

                "We..." he looks really sad, but that doesn't stop you from being mad.

                "You promised!" you yell at him again. One of the men tries to get the pictures away from you, but you turn away from you. "I'm not leaving!"

                "You have to," your dad says.

                You shake your head. You can't. This is all too fast. Of course it always is. Usually before you really know what's going on you're in a new town with a new name.

                You make a lunge for your phone just before one of the men grabs it. You press the first speed dial and press it to your ear. You throw the phone down when you hear the all too familiar automated message telling you that your phone has been disconnected.

                You spot your running shoes and make a move for them. Your dad tries to stop you, but you're already running down the stairs.

                "Brittany!" you can hear your dad yelling as you hop on one foot to put one of your shoe on and then the other one. You take off without another look back. You can't leave. You just can't.

                "Santana!" you start yelling as soon as you get close enough to her house. "Santana!"

                You look up at her bedroom window. You start looking around for something to throw at it before she appears in the window. "What's wrong?" she asks, the second she gets her window open.

                "Can I come in?" you ask glancing down the street. You know that they'll be after you soon.

                She nods, still looking confused. "Yeah, I'll be right down."

                "Hurry," you tell her, bouncing on your toes.

                When she opens the door you fling yourself onto her. "I don't wanna leave you. I can't." You start mumbling incoherently and you start sobbing.

                "Brittany, what's going on?" she asks you softly holding the back of your head, "You don't have to leave."

                "They're going to make me," you cry. You pull away and kiss her hard like it'll be the last time. You can hear a car pull up to the curb through the open door and know that it may just be the last time.

                "Mom! Dad!" Santana yells for her parents who are down the stairs before your dad and some government men can get out of the car.

                "What's going on?" Santana's dad asks his eyes taking in everything.

                "I don't know," you can hear Santana say, "But they're scaring the hell out of Brittany."

                You don't know how you get to the couch in the living room, but you can hear Santana's dad talking to your dad near the front door. You hold onto Santana like she can save you. She's never not been able to save you before.

                "I'm sorry sweetheart," you hear your dad say, "But we have to go."

                "Why?" Santana asks. You can hear her voice break as she asks. You sit up from your leaning position and look at her. She has tears in her eyes.

                Santana's mom's voice chimes in, "You're all in Witness Protection aren't you?"

                You wonder how she knew, but there was never nothing that her sharp attorney mind couldn't figure out. You watch your dad nod.

                "I don't want to go anymore," you tell you dad. "I want to stay here."

                "Yeah, she can stay here," Santana pipes up, her arms tightening around you. "She can have the guest room. I'll get a job if I have to. Drop out of school and-"

                The man with your dad interrupts her, "It's not that easy. Brittany cannot legally chose to leave Witness Protection until she turns eighteen without her parents' permission."

                "Daddy please," you beg him. You have to stay here. You were just getting to remember what being yourself felt like. Santana is a big part of that and you're so in love with her. You can't leave. You just can't.

                "You know what your mother will say," your dad looks sadly at you.

                "But my birthday is in two months!" you stand up. "Who cares?"

                You can tell that this isn't going to work. They're going to rip you away from the only life you've ever loved - the only person you've ever been in love with.

                Santana's father runs a hand over the top of his head, "Can she come back? After her birthday, if she still wants to."

                Your dad nods, holding your eyes. You know it's killing him to take you away. "We can't stop you."

                "If you still want to come back," Santana's dad turns to you. "After your birthday, there's always room for you here."

                Your eyes drop to Santana who is sitting on the couch. There are tears streaming down her face and you don't know how to make it better. You don't think you can. You drop to your knees in front of her and take her hands. "Santana..."

                She looks at you and completely breaks down. She throws her arms around you and holds onto your shoulders.

                "Can they have some time?" Santana's mother asks.

                "We don't really have -" the man with your father says, but your dad interrupts him.

                "We'll come back and get her at five thirty," your dad says. You feel a pat on your head that you guess is your dad. You hear the front door open and close. It's considerably quieter in the house as you and Santana cry together.

                Santana's dad's voice floats in from somewhere, "If you girls need us, we'll be in the kitchen."

                After a while, Santana pulls away from you. She looks at your eyes and looks like she's trying to keep more tears in. "Let's go to my room."

                It doesn't take you long to get up to her room and into her bed. You're laying on your sides facing each other. Your hands are tangled with hers between your chests.

                "I'm so sorry," you tell her. You've just been looking into her eyes and you can't stand the silence anymore. You can hear a clock in your head counting down to five thirty where you'll be whisked away into the dark morning. "I should have told you...I just thought that..." you swallow, "That we'd be here until graduation and then it wouldn't matter anymore."

                "I understand," she says, her voice quiet and scratchy from all the crying. She readjusts the hold on your hands. She's quiet for another moment, finally asking, "Is your name really Brittany?"

                You smile through your continual tears and kiss her. "Yes. I was supposed to pick a different name when I got to school the first day, but when I saw you....I forgot."

                She chuckles and lets go of your hands, pulling your body against hers. "We'll be okay right? Two months is...a long time, but we'll be okay. Right?"

                "Of course," you kiss her head and then her cheek, then her lips. Before you know it you're pushing yourself on top of her, kissing her like it's the end of the world.

                You look up at the clock on the nightstand. It's creeping up on 5 am. You're both naked and twisted in sheets, pressed together.

                "What about your family?" she asks, drawing lazy circles across your stomach.

                You look down at her and furrow your eyebrows, "What do you mean?"

                "If you come back I doubt that they'll let you contact them," Santana breathes out. "They'll still be in Witness Protection and you'll be out..."

                It finally clicks for you. You never thought you'd have to chose between Santana and your family.

                You feel her hot tears start to drip onto your skin and you realize that it's been four minutes since she asked. You're painfully aware of the time as it ticks by. "I don't - I don't know."

                She pushes up on her elbows and looks at your face. You know that's not her normal look. She's trying to hold it together and be brave. You've seen it before. "Whatever you do," she pauses for a moment to bite her bottom lip, "I support it. You shouldn't have to chose, but whatever you do, I'll always, always, always love you." Tears start to trickle down her face. She wipes them away and rises off of the bed.

                "Where are you going?" you call after her, scared that she's done.

                She doesn't say anything. She just opens the jewelry box on her dresser and extracts a locket. You've seen it before and heard the story a million times. It was Santana's great, great grandmother's. It was the only thing of value she had on her when she came to America. It's a Lopez family heirloom.

                Santana makes her way back over to the bed. She opens the empty locket and kisses it. She carefully closes it at she kneels on the bed. Then she reaches forward and clasps it around your neck. "Don't forget me okay?"

                "Santana, I won't -" She doesn't let you finish. She kisses you hard, pressing you deeper into the mattress.

                At five twenty-eight there's a knock on the door. "Brittany, your dad's here."

                You thought that you couldn't cry anymore. It turns out that you can and so can Santana. She wraps her arms around herself as you both walk to the front door silently. You can see your parents' SUV parked on the curb in front of the house.

                You turn around and look at Santana. You can feel your heart being ripped apart. You rush back into her body wrapping your arms around her waist. You pick her up and twirl her around until she laughs. You needed to hear her laugh.

                When you set her down, she holds you around your neck. She's fighting tears as hard as she can and you know it. You are too. "We'll be together again. I promise."

                She takes a deep breath and nods. "I'll wait for you."

                You let out a soft smile knowing that what she's saying is the truth. You lean down and kiss her one last time before you hug her tight. "I love so much."

                "I love you too," she whispers against your ear.

                "Brittany," you hear your mom call from behind you. "It's time."

                You can't hold tears back anymore so you bury your face in her shoulder and let it go. You feel a hand on your shoulder a few minutes later. It's firmly pulling you away so you steal a kiss as you're being ripped apart from the love of your life.

                Santana starts to move after you, but her father catches her.

                You're forced into the back of the SUV and you frantically try to open the door as the car start to drive away. You can't leave her. You just can't. You can't. You yank on the door handle, but nothing gives. It won't open.

                Finally, after you can't even see her street anymore, you lose it.