A/N: Reviews are strongly appreciated :)

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee.

"Miss Pierce..."

"Brittany, please."

He clears his throat. "Right, Brittany." His eyes flickers between Brittany and her Guardian, letting them know that whatever he's going to say is related to both of them. "I've heard from April, the woman who went to get you previously, that you are immune to your Guardian's Satan flames."

Brittany nods without hesitation.

"Is it possible for you to show it to us?" Starchild's gaze lands on Santana.

Santana tenses. First The Vatican, then The Vils, now even the Saints know of it? She doesn't feel at ease knowing that everyone is taking advantage of that knowledge because that means Brittany is in more danger than she already is.

Sensing the hesitance, Starchild speaks up. "We know of your circumstance, Brittany and Miss Lopez. Rest assured, we are not out to put you in a spot. It is fine if you choose not to. We need your help and this concerns Brittany. If you two agree to help, I will let you in on everything."

Everything.

Santana wants to know what the hell is going on. She wants to know what is with Brittany's heritage. She wants to know who to bare her fangs at. But most of all, she wants Brittany to be safe.

Feeling a tug on her hand, Santana turns to find Brittany giving her one of her warmest smile. Her blue eyes speak for her, giving Santana the push she needs.

Their gaze doesn't falter when soft blue flame slowly ignites their linked hands. The flame is small, mild and passive. Brittany gives a slight squeeze, and the flame gushed further, stronger. It starts traveling down the length of Brittany's arm until it spreads over her torso to the rest of her body.

The intensity of the flame causes Starchild to take a step back. The Saints watch in awe as Brittany remains unmoved, her thumb running softly across Santana's knuckles soothingly to ease her worries.

"Right." Saint July breaks the silence when the moment stretches for a moment too long.

Santana snaps out of her trance and the flame dies off, leaving Brittany unharmed.

"Wow." Saint Martinez steps forward in amusement. He looks between Santana and Brittany. "That was..."

"One of a kind." Saint Harmony chimes in.

Saint John staggers forward and kneels before Brittany in a desperate plea. His sunken eyebags draw attention away from his usual chiseled feature. Stubble prominent from days of anguish, rendering him a heap of helpless mess. "Please, save Holly for me!"

"John!" Both Starchild and Saint Martinez step forward to drag him back on his feet.

Brittany's jaws tighten, unsure of how to respond to the man's cries for help. She doesn't even know what's happening.

"Keeping my words, Brittany and Miss Lopez, I will fill you in on what's happening." Starchild huffs as he sets Saint John down back onto his chair with the help of Saint Martinez.

The crestfallen man slumps back onto his seat and buries his face into his hands, muffling his sobs. "I can't feel her anymore, Elliot, I can't!"

His words prick Santana's conscious. Her mind reels back to the time where Brittany refuses to acknowledge her existence when Brittany found out her true identity. She looks away from the forlorn man and swallows the lump in her throat. As if sensing her distress, Brittany's grip on Santana's hand tightens as she pulls it onto her lap.

"John's Guardian, Holly Holiday is missing. We have a rough idea of where she is, but we do not have the exact location or the manpower to infiltrate their bases." Elliot lets out a deep sigh. The other Saints present have their eyes averted. "We need your help to locate her."

"How can I help?" Brittany's resolve to find Holly reflects in her words.

Santana is certain Brittany have no idea who Holly is, and definitely have no clue on who are the people who is seated before her. "Britt, are you sure you want to get involved in this? You don't even know who they are." Santana cautions.

A flicker of panic flashes through Starchild's eyes. He opens his mouth to respond but Brittany cuts him off.

"I don't want to make the same mistake twice, Santana." Brittany holds Santana's gaze as she speaks. Her voice softens, but still audible to the others in the room. "I've made it once before, and as much as I don't want to be the deciding factor of this, I have to. He's going through what I made you went through before."

Santana flinches at her words. Her heart pumps a little faster at the memory of the incident.

Brittany feels unworthy of Santana. The feeling intensified a hundred times after witnessing Saint John's breakdown. She never knew the gravity of the bond, what it does to both parties. She only knew her side of her story, where she refused to acknowledge Santana. She never knew about the madness that rattles on their mental health.

"Now that I see it for myself, I can't forgive myself for putting you through that. This is why, I have to help him." Tears run down her cheeks and Santana is quick to catch them. Santana runs the pad of her thumb over her Mortal's cheeks. "I'm so sorry, Santana."

"It's fine, Britt. I'm okay, you're okay, and we're okay, now." Santana coos as she tries to stop the tears falling from the pair of eyes she never wants to see cry.

The Saints watch their interaction in silence.

Santana's hands remains on Brittany's cheeks as she turns to address the Saints. Saint Harmony adverts her eyes in embarrassment, feeling as if she intruded in a personal moment between the two. Saint Martinez, Saint July and Starchild hold her gaze. "We'll help you find Holly Holiday." Brittany sniffs, agreeing to help them with their plan.

The Mortal's agreement to help causes Saint John's cries to get louder as he chokes out words of gratitude to the duo.

"Before we get to anything else, Brittany. You should know why we seek you." Starchild's expression turns serious. "Among the other descendant, you're the only agile one remaining. That aside, Brett Pierce is unaware of this parallel world. It is unwise that we drag him into this."

"Holly Holiday is Saint John's Guardian. Two days ago, she disappeared. We sent our troops out only to gather zero information of her whereabouts." Saint July adds.

"It's the damn Vils, that damned Hunter!" Saint John yells. His bloodshot eyes glares at every single person in the room as he seethes, teeth clenched down to try to quell his rage.

Brittany observes him, the way his body quakes with unrestrained anger, the emotions oozing out of him without any control. He's slowly losing his sanity. "How can I help?"

"We will awaken the slumbering traits of Holly Holiday that have been inherited to you. But the rite of passage is something you must endure in order to awaken it." Saint Harmony takes over.

"What if I fail the rite?" Brittany worries her lips between her teeth as she looks up at Saint Harmony.

"Don't worry. The traits are harmless. If you manage to endure the whole ordeal, the power will make itself known to you. In the worst case scenario where you don't make it, you'll only pass out for a couple of days. There are no side effects to hinder you. And should you really fail, we will make ourselves scarce, never to interrupt your normal life."

Her head spins, her mind bombarded with information she never thought she will ever need. It's a life changing decision. She won't know what will happen after, and she sure as hell doesn't know what lies ahead of them should she get herself involved.

But there's one thing she's certain of.

She doesn't like the way Saint John is keeling over in emotional anguish. It gnaws on her conscience like a rat trying to dig a tunnel for refuge. She swallows and makes up her mind.

"I'll do it."

At her words, Santana loosens her grip on Brittany's hand and leaves her seat. Brittany's eyes widen and she hurriedly reaches out to grab Santana's hand to stop her from leaving.

"I really wish I can be there to hold your hands along but this is something you'll have to walk through alone." Santana smiles and leans down to give her a kiss on the forehead. "I'll be right here to catch you, to wait for you no matter what happens."

Brittany reluctantly lets go of her Guardian's hand. She tries to return the smile Santana shoots her way before nerves catches on.

Taking a deep breath, Brittany slowly exhales to calm herself before turning to the Saints. "I'm ready."

"Brittany S. Pierce." Martinez steps forward and stops before Brittany. "Descendant of Holly Holiday, progeny of Light. Awaken the Bambino within and guide the child to the Passage of Rite."

Brittany feels her fingertips tingle. She gasps when they light up in soft, yellow flames, dancing along her fingertips. The flame is warm, a different kind of warmth from the pale blue she's used to. It seems to hover above her skin as it spreads to the rest of her body. The last thing her sight catches is Santana.

Everything goes black.

Santana grips the back of the chair she vacated to stop herself from lunging forward, to shake Brittany out of the trance she's in.

"Calm down, Guardian. She'll pull through."

The Guardian relaxes only to tense again when Brittany's expression contorts into a pained one.

"You care a lot about her, don't you?"

Santana's lips curl up involuntarily into a shy smile, but refusing to comment on it. "Yeah..." She trails off. She thinks of Brittany's smile, Brittany's halcyon blue eyes, Brittany's ability to cook and yet careless enough to set the kitchen on fire, the way she doesn't hold back when it comes to defending herself and...

Everything that Brittany does, brings a smile to her face.

Starchild laughs - the kind of laugh where one throws their head back in a hearty chuckle. Santana turns to him in annoyance. The other Saints merely watches their interaction from the sideline.

"The news of you getting a Mortal spread like wildfire, just in case you're out of the loop."

Santana stares at him without responding, waiting for him to continue.

"The one that can't be claimed, finally got a Mortal." His expression softens. "They were making a bet on how long it was going to last."

Santana scowls, not liking how the others are using her as a gambling topic.

"But all of them lost. You exceeded their expectations and even though she's your first mortal, I can see that it's not the bond that you have an obligation to. It's something more. Something that most of us doesn't understand, and may never get a chance to experience. I'm happy for you, Lopez." Starchild smiles. He sees past the surface of their relationship, into the one that's bridged by love.

A deep, guttural growl shifts Santana's attention to Brittany. Her brows are creased, eyes shut tight and her hands are balled rigidly on her lap.

Worried expression replaces the relaxed ones the Saints had. Given the looks from them, Santana knows something is wrong.

"Urgh!" Brittany huffs in annoyance. She swears she recognizes the tree. It seems like she have been walking in loops no matter how hard she tries to get out of the huddle of trees. Her ear picks up the slight rustle of leaves, making her turn around towards it.

The footsteps are light and frantic, and it sounds more like an animal than a human's.

One... No, two. No...

The fallen leaves crunch and rustle under their feet.

Her limbs refuses to cooperate. Panic seizes her as fear seeps into her mind. The footsteps get more frantic, getting closer every second she stays on the spot.

"Move, move, move!" Brittany screams at herself for a moment before her brain catches up with what's happening. She turns and takes off, running towards the endless stream of similar looking trees.

The path starts to widen in front of her before leading to a clearing - a field.

The scene is too familiar to her.

She takes a quick glance and sees the first wolf leaping off the ground towards her. Her ankle throbs at the memory of being chowed down.

Not wanting to repeat the same mistake, Brittany pivots her left foot and pushes her to the right, narrowly missing the wolf's jaws. She cursed under her breath, knowing that she can never outrun them.

The field is empty, voided of any weapon that she can utilize. Her thoughts run along with her as she widens her strides, pushing her further away from the malicious pack.

She wishes Santana is here with her because Santana would probably materialize a weapon for her.

An idea strikes.

She holds her hand before her and tries to imagine a whip.

A silhouette forms in front of her palm before materializing into an actual whip. Brittany grabs the weapon and smirks.

Time to turn the tables.

She spins around and whips at the wolf, halting their chase as they crouch, narrowly avoiding being hit.

This is her Rite, her rules. If the wolves are back to haunt her, she'll stand her ground and face them this time. No more running.

The wolves growl, not liking how Brittany turn the situation against them. They take several steps back but maintains their aggression, baring their fangs at the mortal.

"It's unfair how you guys can morph into wolves. I don't like the idea of attacking animals." Brittany complains. She holds the whip before her, trying to deter any attacks.

The pack spreads out to circle Brittany. Not risking the chance to be put in a disadvantage, Brittany swings the whip forward. Several hounds stop in their advance and takes a step back. Sensing that the others will not take the first lunge, the leader growls. His signal is enough to send one of his pack members to throw himself at Brittany.

CRACK!

The wolf whimpers. Brittany shudders, immediately hating herself for attacking an animal. The moral side of her is telling her to stop but her mind buzzes with the knowledge that these wolves are not hundred percent wolf. They're shape-shifters, they're out to get her. "I told you not to force me!"

The injured wolf wheezes as it lies on the grass, its body heaving up and down laboriously with every breath it takes.

Brittany's morals win over. She throws her whip away and crouches beside the wolf she whipped down. She cringed when she scans the wolf and finds the large wound inflicted by the whip. It strips the wolf's skin bare, making the wound stand out. The wolf winces at Brittany's touch.

"I'm not gonna hurt you." She whispers as she strokes the wolf carefully, avoiding the wound. "I'm sorry."

The ground she's kneeling beside starts to shift to an alleyway. The pack seems to snap out of their haze. Seeing their attacker crouching beside their injured pack mate, they howl and lunge at Brittany who lifts her forearm to her face to shield herself.

She bites down the scream threatening to escape and instead, lets out a guttural growl.

"Lopez, we need you to calm down, Starchild shoots out of his seat and takes several steps forward to get to Santana. "We don't know what's going on."

Santana's pupils dilate involuntarily as she turns to glare at the Saint who dares to tell her to calm down. He stops in his advances at the menacing look. The Guardian's wrist is burning up and she knows that Brittany is in trouble. The armband around her arm is constricting, squeezing tighter with each passing second.

A hiss snaps her attention away from Starchild to her mortal. Blood oozes out of her forearm, dripping onto the carpeted floor.

"Don't do anything rash, Guardian." Harmony warns.

"Is that supposed to happen?" Santana clenches her fists tight as she keep herself in check.

The Saints exchange apprehensive looks, nobody daring to speak up. The silence betrays them. If nothing's wrong, they would have already assured Santana that, right? Their facial expression says it all. They don't know what's happening to Brittany.

Santana grows more restless as seconds ticks by. The armbands wound tighter, almost cutting off the blood flow in her arms. She grips tightly onto the edge of the table, forcing herself not to reach out to Brittany. The Saints are murmuring among themselves but keeping their eyes on Santana.

A second gash appears on Brittany's other arm. However, this time, it appears in Santana's arm too. Santana hisses at the burning sensation. "IS THIS SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN TOO?" She all but roars. Her eyes flares with quiet rage as she glares at the Saints.

"No." Saint John peers at her over his lowered head.

"John!" The Saints chorus.

Something in Santana snaps. Her body involuntarily moves on it's on as the need to reach out to her Mortal overwhelms her.

"It will not bode well for you, Guardian!" Starchild warns. "Her nature is opposed to yours. You will only get hurt!

Santana ignores the Saints' warning and grabs onto Brittany's wrist, causing the yellow flame to spread onto her own.

"GUARDIAN!" Martinez exclaims.

The flame pricks in an unsettling manner. Santana clamps down her jaws as she forces herself not to remove her hold on Brittany's wrist as the flame travel along every inch of her skin, the intensity of the pain increasing along with the spread of the yellow flame.

Light and dark doesn't blend well, and Santana is well aware. But she promised Brittany she'll be there for her. And she will.

When the yellow flame totally engulfs her, her vision goes black.

She tries to hold the wolves at bay as she tends to the injured one. Her blood stains the wolf's white coat red. The wolf whimper, and Brittany is quick to apologize to it.

With much difficulty, Brittany manages to put up a barrier around them, preventing the active wolves from causing anymore damage to herself. The wolves circle the barrier, howling and growling every few seconds.

"B!"

Brittany turns around to see Santana sprinting towards her. The pack veers their attention away from Brittany to the approaching Guardian. Before they can even pounce on Santana, her hands are already up, pushing the wolves away with her manipulation skill. She steps into the barrier without much trouble. Brittany figures that it's because this entire skill controlling thing is new to her, making her barrier weak as compared to Santana's skill.

Santana crouches down beside her and reaches for her arms. Her lips are pinched together as she inspects the injury.

Brittany's concerns for the injured wolf gets veered away as she focuses on Santana. "Not that I'm complaining, but why are you here?"

"Complicated. Saints fucked up." She seethes, but her actions are gentle as she lights up her hand in blue flame before putting it over Brittany's bloody wounds.

The cells regenerates quickly, closing the gaping wound, leaving behind a mess of blood stains.

"What happened to your hand?" Brittany's face scrunches in concern as she takes Santana's left hand.

"You."

Brittany's eyebrows crease in confusion for a moment before she realizes what Santana means. "Oh..." She gasps.

The wolf whimpers, alerting Santana of its presence. She scans the wolf, noticing the naked strip of skin on the wolf, before turning back go Brittany for an explanation.

Brittany avoids eye contact sheepishly as she admits to being the one that injured the wolf.

"Britt, look at me." Santana coaxes.

The Mortal slowly turns to face her Guardian, who is smiling at her. "It's not your fault, Britt. I'm pretty sure they jumped you."

Brittany nods.

"See, its self-defence, even though I have no idea what you did." Santana looks at the furless strip of skin on the wolf.

"I used a whip..."

"Ah," Santana's face brightens in enlightenment. "So that's how. But you can't go saving every animal that attacks you, Britt. You'll just burn yourself out, and possibly get yourself into trouble because not all that is saved will be grateful. They're shape-shifters, not actual animals."

Nobody faults her, but Brittany is taking the blame on herself. Whatever it is, it feels wrong to harm the animal, or not-an-animal.

"I know." Brittany admits in a soft voice. She sees no reason to hold back when against another mortal, because mortals attack people with intentions, but animals mostly do it for self-defence. It's unfair that the shape-shifters have an edge over her because she can't bring herself to fight against them. The fact that the shape-shifters are probably physically stronger than her doesn't help. However, Santana's presence springs another question. "San...?"

"Yeah?"

"How did you get here?"