A Fact I'll Bet (You Never Knew)

LENGTH: 600~ words

SUMMARY: On opening night. Spoilers for 4x06.

A/N: Basically my knee-jerk reaction after finally watching this episode (almost six months late, yes, but that's beside the point). Four Brittana scenes later, and I'm sucked in all over again. This is raw, and rushed, but I just had to write something.

You go home that night, and you think about her.

You remember the familiar feel of her hands on your back; the breathlessness of her whisper in your ear; the way she had watched you from across the stage during your solo—proudly, lovingly—and, this time—sadly.

"…but to cry in front of you, that's the worst thing I could do…"

You couldn't stand to face her for more than a moment. Any longer than that, and your voice might have trembled slightly under the weight of her steady gaze. Your eyes might have burned a little too much. Your heart might have… you would have given yourself away.

The audience might not have noticed, but she would have.

Just a moment. That was all it would have taken.

After the show had ended and the curtains had fallen to a close—after the first reviews had been released and read aloud—after everyone else had finally started to disperse into the night—she found you again.

"Hi again…"

Although her eyes, blue as ever, still sparkled with exhilaration from the minutes just passed, she had seemed to look at you shyly then. Her hair was still up in that fifty's-style 'do that had made you both smile, earlier, yesterday, forever ago. Your mouth had suddenly felt dry. You couldn't remember what time it was.

"Hey…"

Not knowing what else to say, you had offered her a ride home.

For most of the drive, you were both quiet. Words had felt too heavy. So did silence, but it was easier than trying to start a conversation that you knew wasn't allowed to end with "I love you." Even if that was all you wanted to say.

You had to grip the steering wheel tighter to keep from saying it.

When you pulled into her driveway, she had paused before getting out of the car. With a deep breath, and her hand on the door handle, she turned to face you for the last time that night.

"Santana, I…"

She had smiled shakily before a single, forceful sob escaped her—catching you off-guard, piercing right through you.

Tears were glistening in her eyes. In the relentless moonlight, it was clear.

Your heart seemed to stop.

I don't know what we're doing, is what suddenly flashed in your mind; what the better, more rational part of you, knew to be true. Why am I doing this to you, to us? You're the only one for me…

You had wanted to say it, needed to say it, needed to tell her…

But before it could come out, before your brain could make the connection between your thoughts and your words, a split-second passed and she, she.

She was gone.

Out of the car and bolting up the path, fumbling with her keys for just a moment before disappearing into the darkened house, the door slamming shut with a bang.

It happened in a moment.

That was all it took.

The impulse to run after her nearly overwhelmed you. That urge to beat down her door, or climb up to her window like in the past. To shout out the words, waking up her whole family, hell, the whole neighbourhood if you had to. To tell her the truth.

Brittany…

But instead you were frozen. You can't remember how long you sat there, in her driveway, hands still clenching the steering wheel. Your knuckles were stiff and turning pale from holding on so tightly. Your mind was blank. Your heart—no, your entire being, everything you are—felt broken.

You were broken, and you knew she was, too.

You go home that night, and you think about her.