A oneshot most likely. I will carry it on if people like it. Review and let me know.
Brittany and Santana had been together nearly ten years when Brittany's mother died not long after her eldest daughter's twenty fifth birthday. When Brittany had found out she locked herself in her and Santana's bathroom, slamming the door in her girlfriend's face.
"Go away, San. I don't want to talk about it." Santana could barely make out her words over the sound of her sobs.
"Fine, B." Santana had sighed as Brittany collapsed on the bathroom floor, her feet curled into her and her head near the door. Santana pulled out her BlackBerry, her second favourite thing in the world, and texted Quinn. Texting Quinn when something bad went down was something Santana would never have imagined doing a decade earlier. They had both down a lot of growing up since the days of being Cheerios and fighting for the attention of Sue Sylvester. They'd grown ridiculously close. She was one of the very few people Santana could trust.
Santana ran her fingers through her fringe, something she thought was going to make her look hotter but ended up being a gigantic pain in her ass. She then traced her hand back over her head and pulled out her hair band. She shook the stress of the day out of her dark locks.
She could hear Brittany crying, screaming even and she felt nothing but crap and useless. Santana had felt the same way since Brittany's mother had been diagnosed with cancer. She'd spent hours trying to discuss the 'what if' situation with Brittany.
"What if she doesn't get better, baby?"
"But she will, San. Don't be silly. That's why she's in the hospital."
Brittany had always been close with her mother, something Santana had both loved and envied. It did Brittany well, it meant Brittany always had someone, other than her, to talk to. Brittany liked to talk, so this was Santana's favourite part.
Almost an hour passed before the sobs quietened down and decided to knock again. Quinn had told her to be 'persistent but nice.' Santana had rolled her eyes at this; only Quinn could give such vague advice.
"Britt, can I come in?" Santana said as she tried pushing the door open. It was locked, as she had guessed. Her heart skipped a beat ten seconds later when the door swung open and she almost fell on the floor in front of her. Brittany would have normally found this hilarious, but instead, as soon as she saw Santana, she burst into tears all over again. Santana raised her arms and Brittany fell into her chest, soaking her top with her tears. Santana was scared, she'd seen Brittany cry so many times, but this was so much different, so much worse.
"Hey, hey, chica." Santana stroked Brittany's hair and kissed her temple.
"I'm here, hush, I'm here."
Time had passed and Santana found herself and Brittany in the bath tub. The very expensive bath tub Santana had worked her ass off to pay for. The bath tub that matched her tiles and mirror perfectly. The bath tub that had plenty of room for the both of them. Brittany lay between her legs, her head gently resting underneath under Santana's and their hands clasped together on Brittany's chest. Santana leaned her head down a little and kissed Brittany quickly.
"I'm so sorry, B." Santana stroked the side of her face.
"Why? You didn't do anything, did you?" Santana shook her head.
"No. I just, y'know, wish I could make it better." Brittany just smiled, for the first time that day. She leant her head up a little and kissed Santana's cheek before Santana turned her head and their lips collided.
"You are and I love you," Brittany said into the kiss, her words replied to with a simple 'mhmm' from her girlfriend. Brittany flipped over onto her front and lay her head on Santana's chest.
"Tell me a story. Tell me something about high school or, something happy." Santana laughed lightly to herself, reminiscing for a second about high school. She couldn't believe how far she'd come, how far her and Brittany had come. If only her sixteen year old self could see her now.
"We were happy at at high school?" Brittany splashed her girlfriend and said 'San' in her I-am-trying-to-be-mad-at-you-but-failing-and-just-looking-cute voice. At least, that's what Santana liked to call it. Santana wiped her face and smiled.
"Okay, how about," Santana stuttered a little, "how about the first time I told someone I loved you?"