Hey guys.
This is a rather happy/romantic AU one-shot; just another proof that no matter when or where, Brittana is endgame :)
Inspired by and named after Disney's Hercules' "Go the Distance".
I don't own Glee or it's characters. Or the Ellen Show.
Go the Distance
"And now, I am proud to welcome my next guest to the show. Amongst other awards, she won four Grammys and two MTV Video Music Awards, several Billboard Music Awards and an Academy Award in the category 'Best Original Song' in the last two years. She recently got elected 'Sexiest Woman Alive' by Esquire. Here she is, Ladies and Gentlemen, singer-songwriter Santana Lopez."
Merely a few seconds later, the audience's thunderous applause reaches Santana's ears. Someone from the staff taps her shoulder and motions to her to get onto the stage. Santana forces a smile onto her face in an attempt to mask the nervousness rising in her stomach. Of course this isn't her first time in a talk show that's broadcast nation-wide.
(It is her first time on the Ellen DeGeneres show, though, and she likes Ellen, so she guesses that's partly a reason for her nervousness.)
She takes a last deep breath and steps onto the stage, waving to the audience with a wide smile on her face.
After dancing together to a classic rock song and exchanging pleasantries, Ellen begins her interview.
"So, Santana. You've been a part of the music-business for about five years now."
"Uhm, yeah, that sounds about right." Santana acts as if she couldn't remember the exact day her first single was for sale on iTunes. Her PR-Agent advised her to do so because people are quick to judge and according to him, remembering release dates of your singles or albums qualifies as too narcissistic. And that is not the image he wants Santana to have.
"Where were you before that?"
"In New York, I guess." She doesn't want to go deeper into your pre-music-business days, but she knows that her PR told Ellen about her time at 'Coyote Ugly' because apparently that will probably give her male fan base a blast. And she knows that she has to keep the folks happy. By any means.
"That's what I heard. What did you do in New York? I heard there was a lot of dancing and not so much clothing involved?" Ellen wiggles her eyebrows and Santana can't fight the grin off her face.
"Yeah, uhm, I kinda danced at a 'Coyote Ugly' Downtown." A big part of the audience – both male and female – whistles loudly. "It was crazy. But I kinda liked it." Cat calls and wolf whistles follow her statement and when she looks behind her, she sees a picture of herself during those times. Standing on a counter in a bar, in very tight clothes, pouring vodka from the bottle into a young man's mouth. "Yeah, that's me." She blushes and hopes her ethnicity hides it. Santana is not a shy person, hell, she has a bangin' body, but she was barely adult back then and in all honesty, in that outfit, she looked just cheap.
"Wow, okay. You already looked pretty nice back then." Someone from the audience hollers a 'God, yeah' in their direction. "So, we all know that you are a very private person. But can you tell us who we have to thank for this?" Ellen motions to the screen behind her, where several pictures of her 'Coyote'-Days are displayed right now.
"Well, uhm. I took this job to pay for an apartment in New York, so I guess if you want to thank someone, you should probably search for a good friend of mine from High School who made me move to New York. I met them in kindergarten."
It's the second day of kindergarten.
A 5 year-old Santana is sitting at her table in Ms. Hoovers kindergarten class. She's dreaming of the big blanket-fort her mom had promised to build with her, when someone sits down on the chair next to her.
She doesn't think much of it, barely catching a glimpse of blonde hair out of the corner of her eye, before she rests her head on her hands and thinks of a way to convince her mom to let her stay up a little longer tonight.
"Hi, I'm Brittany." The blonde girl next to her manages to capture her attention in an instant.
Santana wants to say 'Hi, I'm Santana'. "You're really pretty" is what leaves her mouth instead.
She curses herself for saying that, even if it was true. With her blonde hair, blue eyes and pale skin, Brittany was by far the most pretty girl Santana had ever met. And now this pretty girl will not want to be friends with Santana because she thinks she's weird.
But instead of turning around and leaving her table, Brittany's smile widens even further.
Santana hopes they'll become best friends for life.
"And how exactly did they do that?" Santana is ripped from her daydream by Ellen's question. What's worse is that she doesn't even know what Ellen is referring to anymore.
"Huh?" She tries to conceal her little slip up by acting all innocent and shy. "How did they do what?"
"You said that this person from kindergarten made you move to New York. But how did they manage that? Did they pack your things, sit you in a train, and run next to your window when it took off?" The audience starts laughing and even Santana gives a genuine laugh because, yeah, that does sound kind of ridiculous.
"We're not talking about a lifetime-movie, so no, nothing like that. They basically just made me realize that I wasn't made to stay in a place like Lima and that I should find a place where I belong."
"Wow, that sounds deep. I guess this person was really close to you?" Ellen nods in understanding.
"Yeah, I guess you could say so."
It's the first day of middle school.
A nervous 10 year-old Santana is waiting in front of the new school or, metaphorically speaking, the new stage in her life. She taps her foot continuously on the ground and checks her cell for any new messages every two seconds.
In approximately four minutes, the bell will ring and she'll have to enter the building. Alone. Like that loser Jacob Ben Israel who didn't even have any friends in kindergarten. In kindergarten. Where basically everyone is best friends with each other.
But back to the topic. She'll have to enter alone in four – no – three minutes because her best friend apparently decided to be late today. Today of all days.
"Oh come on, Britt..." She murmurs, slowly making her way to the staircase leading to the building's entrance. "You can't be serious..."
"Who can't be serious?" A cheery voice and a hand on her shoulder, seemingly coming out of nowhere, make her jump and squeak in horror.
"Jesus." Santana is gripping her heart with her right hand and trying to calm down her erratic breathing.
"No, it's me, silly. Brittany." When Santana looks up, the blonde girl is right there, barely a foot away from her. "We've seen each other just yesterday. Oh my god. Do you have anesthesia?"
Brittany's eyes widen. Santana rolls her eyes and laughs at her friends' joke. Mixing up words is kinda Britt's 'thing', although they both know that Brittany knows what she's doing. "No, Britt. I thought you'd be late."
"Oh. No. Not on our first day of school." Brittany grabs Santana's hand and pulls her up the stairs. "You know I'd never leave you, Sanny. Remember, best friends for life."
Santana wanted to roll her eyes at Brittany for being such a sap. Instead, she just smiled while her stomach and heart did this weird flutter-thing that happened whenever Brittany did or said something really sweet.
Santana wonders if she caught some stomach-bug.
"Okay. And how close exactly were you and this person?" Ellen wiggles her eyebrows suggestively.
Santana blushes. Again. "Uhm." She bows her head, trying to hide her face from the cameras. She coughs into her hand and tucks a strand of her hair, which has fallen into her face, behind her ear. "We were best friends."
"Yeah. Right." Ellen laughs. "I thought that much. But why did you blush?"
"I did not." Santana tries to look offended, but instead she feels her face heat up even more. "Okay, but only because I knew everyone would assume that something more happened."
"Oh. Shame on you." The blonde woman turns to the audience. "Why do you assume that there is more to that story just because Santana blushes when talking about her 'best friend' and refuses to answer any question about them. What's wrong with you people?" She fake-scolds her audience.
"I didn't refuse to answer questions." Santana objects. "You asked and I said we were best friends."
"Oh sorry. My fault." Ellen turns to the audience again. "So you assume she's lying just because she's obviously lying? That's really low, guys." The whole room is shaking with laughter.
When Santana regained her balance, she spoke up again. "Okay, I admit that there were some feelings involved. I mean, you know how teenagers are."
It's the first day of summer vacation.
A 15 year-old Santana is lounging in the deck chair next to the pool in her garden.
She's pissed off because she'd spent her last summer vacation with her parents in Puerto Rico and her mother had promised her that they would repeat the holiday the following year. But instead of lying on a Puerto Rican beach, she was stuck here in Lima, Ohio because her father didn't apply for leave on time and now had to work throughout summer. Bummer.
With a sigh, she turned to lay on her stomach. Her summer is doomed.
"Hey Sanny, your mom let me in." Santana looks up and sees... Woah. Brittany. Smiling at her like she's the most amazing person in the world. Wearing something that is definitely too short to even qualify as a bikini. "You're staring." Blue eyes are sparkling at Santana.
"I'm not." The Latina looks away from her best friend, suddenly very aware of the heat blossoming on her face. "I just forgot that I'd invited you is all."
"Okay." The blonde girl sits down on the deck chair next to Santana and holds out a bottle. "Can you put some sunscreen on me?" Before Santana can answer her, Brittany is lying face-down on the chair, one of her hands reaching behind her back, fiddling with the clasp of her bikini top.
Maybe Santana's summer wouldn't be so bad after all.
"Though it's been quite a while, yes. I still vaguely remember being a teenager, thank you." Ellen acts offended but can't keep the grin out of her face. "And that was all there was? Teenage dreams?"
"Uhm. Well..." The words are stuck in her throat and just won't come out. Just thinking about what happened makes her choke on her own emotions. She coughs twice and takes a deep breath before pressing out a "Not really. No. There were feelings involved." She coughs. "Romantic feelings."
It's the last night of summer vacation.
A 15 year-old Santana is lying on the green grass of the Pierce's garden in the middle of the night. Brittany is lying right next to her. Both of them are gazing up into the sky, pointing at the stars and telling about made up constellations.
"You see these five stars there ?" Brittany vaguely gestures around.
"There are many 'five stars' up there, B."
"Yeah, but do you see those five stars, like, right there?" Brittany takes Santana's hand and tries to point it into the right direction. Santana tries again.
"Can you be any more precise than that ?"
"Those that look like a 'v'. Come here." The blonde nudges her best friend's shoulder and then pulls her up to stand on her feet. She then stands right behind Santana, pressing herself to the other girl's back, leaning her head on her shoulder. "Look." Brittany takes Santana's hand in her's again, trying to position the smaller girl's pointer finger right under the stars she's talking about.
Santana leans back into the warmth of Brittany's body. She enjoys being so close to her best friend. And while they've always been pretty close since kindergarten, she felt like their relationship had somehow changed over this summer. She wasn't sure how or why, though.
"San? You see them?" That made her snap out of her haze.
"Uhm. I think so, yes."
"That's Pinky."
Confused, Santana tilts her head a little to the right. "What?"
"Pinky. Because with those others stars around those five, it looks like two linked pinkies. Duh." Brittany says it as if that's the most logical thing in the world.
"That makes sense. Somehow." With a bit of imagination, Santana can even see it. "Does it have a story?" She's curious about the story Brittany will most likely come up with.
"Of course." The blonde girl lays her head back onto the brunette's shoulder and hugs her from behind. "That's the soulmate-sign. It reminds you that there is someone somewhere in this world that you'll always belong with."
Santana doesn't know if it's the time or the thought that they'll be sophomores by tomorrow or maybe Brittany's cheesiness, but something is making her incredibly emotional right now.
Santana turns her head to look at Brittany. Brown eyes meet ocean blues. "Soulmates, you say?" It was meant to sound sarcastic, but instead, it's whispered like a secret meant for only the two of them to know.
She gets a wide smile in return. "Of course."
"Do you believe in that?" Santana can still only whisper. "Soulmates, I mean." She knows the answer before she hears it.
"Of course."
"Why?"
"Because I've already met mine." Brittany's words and her intense stare make Santana blush. She turns her head away and the arms around her waist loosen their grip. Stepping out of the embrace, Santana feels her best friend grip her hand. She looks down and finds that Brittany has locked their pinkies together.
Suddenly, it becomes clear to Santana what has changed this summer.
She's fallen in love with her best friend.
"Now we're getting to the juicy stuff, guys." The audience laughs. Some guy in the front row whistles loudly. "We want details. What happened, Santana?"
She doesn't know how her PR would want her to answer to that, so she decides to go for the truth. "Well, I guess everyone hopes to hear an epic love story with a happy ending, but I'm afraid I can't give you that." She shrugs her shoulders while receiving pitiful coos of 'Awwwww's and 'Ohhhhh's from the audience. "I fell in love with this person, and I was lucky enough to have the feelings returned. But we weren't ready to build on that. Actually, that's a lie. I wasn't ready to build on that. And I lashed out several times."
It's Friday night in the middle of Junior Year.
A 17 year-old Santana is pacing in front of her bed, where her best friend is sitting.
"What do you mean, you want to tell your parents? What do you want to tell them, Brittany?" She's full-out panicking. Sweat is pouring from every pore on her body, her heat is threatening to break out of her chest, her head is about to explode.
How did this happen? Just five minutes ago, she was feeling perfectly fine while getting cozy with Brittany, about to watch an episode of 'Sweet Valley High' and hoped to get in some Sweet Lady Kisses. And suddenly she's two seconds away from suffering either a heart attack or a stroke.
"Calm down, San. I know that you don't want to tell people about, you know. This. Us." Brittany's motioning between them. "But they're my parents. And I just want someone to talk to. I promise I will leave out all the details. I won't even tell them your name."
"But what do you want to tell them?"
"That I'm in love with someone. And that this person has fallen in love with me, too. That's all I'll tell them, I swear." Brittany gets this look in her eyes, that she always gets, when she wants Santana to agree with something. She combines the look with a perfectly accentuated pout.
Usually, Santana would give her what she wants in a heartbeat. But this time, she doesn't. "No. No, no, no. You can't tell them. You're my best friend, we're always hanging out. They'll know it's me."
"San, come here." Brittany takes Santana's hand and pulls her onto the bed. She embraces the shaking girl and delivers a soft kiss to her forehead. That seems to pull Santana out of her funk.
"I'm sorry. I'm just... scared." Santana releases a deep breath. She knows that she can trust Brittany. And despite acting all tough and badass on the outside, Santana is really just a little teenage girl that fears nothing more than people finding out that she's in love with her best friend. Who's a girl.
"I know." The blonde girl nods in understanding, slowly stroking a hand up and down the brunette's back. "But they won't tell anyone, I promise."
"Okay." Finally, Santana is able to relax a little. She lets herself fall onto her bed, staring at the ceiling.
"And anyways, what's the worst that could happen if anyone found out about us?"
It's a matter of seconds; Santana rolls out of her bed, pressing herself to the opposite wall in an attempt to get as much space between herself and Brittany as possible. "What the fuck, Brittany? Are you fucking kidding me? Is this just a joke to you?" It's not the first time Santana has ever used such words and that tone. It's the first time she uses them on Brittany, though. And because said girl is too shocked to react, Santana just keeps going. "I am fucking scared because this world out there is not just rainbows and unicorns as you may think. There are people out there just waiting for information like this. Do you have any idea what such a rumor can do to us and our reputation?"
Santana watches as blue eyes fill with tears. In her panic, she doesn't even realize that Brittany stuffs her belongings carelessly into her duffel bag and makes her way to the door.
"I didn't know that dating me is such an inconvenience for you."
And because Santana is panicking and angry, but also really, really scared, and doesn't know what else to do, she does what she usually does in such a situation. She lashes out. "Sex is not dating."
She regrets the words immediately. She wishes she could take them back. But she can't.
Brittany steps out of her room and closes the door behind her quietly.
Santana watches through her window as the blonde girl leaves the house with her head hung low and her shoulders twitching erratically due to her heavy sobbing.
And just like that, Santana has lost the best thing that's ever been hers.
"I wanted to be with that person, I really did, but I was just this stupid girl, who thought too much about what others might say about her." Santana notices a movement behind the stage, out of the cameras' view. Her PR-Agent is waving his arms like he's trying to chase away a swarm of bees. "The relationship, if you can even call it that, was one of those 'one step forward and two steps back'-things."
It's Friday night, still the middle of Junior Year, two weeks after Santana lashed out at Brittany for the first time.
A still 17 year-old Santana is trying to climb up the tree in front of Brittany's windows with one hand, while the other clutches a bouquet of red roses, a peace-offering for the girl that still refuses to talk to her since that fateful Friday two weeks ago.
She makes it to the top pretty quickly, as this is how she often enters the blonde's room after curfew.
However, this is the first time that Brittany isn't jumping up from her bed at the sight of Santana, opening her window and pulling the other girl into the warmth of her room.
Instead, she finds Brittany lying on her bed in a fetal position, cuddling the plush unicorn Santana won her at the annual town's fair. Her heart breaks at the sight. Swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat, Santana moved her hand to knock on the window.
It takes Brittany a few seconds to make out the soft knocks coming from her window. And when she turns around on her bed and sees Santana right there, waiting for her to let her into her room, she simply turns around again, not bothering to give Santana a second of her time.
But after not talking to her best friend slash lover slash love of her life, Santana is not above begging anymore. "I know you don't want to talk to me right now. Or maybe ever. But I came to apologize. Please let me in. Please." Brittany doesn't react.
"Okay. Then I'll do this from right here." She's determined to make this right, even if the branch she's sitting on will probably break within the next minutes, judged by it's annoying creaking noises. "I'm sorry, Brittany. I'm sorry for saying what I said. It was rude, harsh, offensive and mostly just a lie. What we have, or rather had, wasn't just sex. You mean so much to me. You're my everything, Brittany, and I'm sorry if I made you doubt that. I know that doesn't make what I said okay." Still no reaction.
"What I said will never be okay. And I just wanted you to know that if there's anything that I can do to make you forgive me, or maybe just hate me a little less, just tell me and I'll do it." She thinks she saw Brittany turning her head a little more in her direction, so she keeps talking. "Maybe wash your bike after motocross practice in a white top?" That makes Brittany turn around. Santana thinks she can see the beginnings of a faint smile forming on her face. She looks her eyes with Brittany's blue ones. "I'm an idiot. And so, so sorry. I love you."
The two girls hold their stare for what seems like minutes, until blue eyes notice red roses lying on the window sill. Brittany curses herself for not being able to resist opening her window any longer. She lets the brunette girl into her room.
Santana knows that that doesn't mean she's forgiven, but at least it's a start. She promises herself that she'll become the person Brittany wants to be with.
She just hopes Brittany is patient enough to wait for her.
The comedienne seems to sense Santana's discomfort and tries to ease the atmosphere by joking. "That's High School to you. Don't we all know that."
The singer manages to fake a laugh despite not feeling happy at all. "Yeah."
"So, you said that this person 'persuaded' you to leave Lima. Does that mean you wanted to stay there?"
"Kinda, yeah. I'm not a person that takes risks easily and although my life wasn't perfect at that time, I knew that I had much to lose. Like this relationship, that I tried to hold onto for as long as I could, but we were living on borrowed time."
It's nearing the end of Junior Year and, therefore, Junior Prom.
An almost 18 year-old Santana is running after her (still secret) girlfriend Brittany Pierce, who has just been rejected when inviting her to Junior Prom.
"Britt, wait." Santana is trying to catch up with the blonde, and for the first time ever, she damn Brittany's long legs. "Britt, please."
Brittany, usually one of the most calm people you'll ever meet, turns around, still furious. "What do you want, Santana?" Said girl flinches at the hostile tone, but doesn't say anything. The blonde takes that as a cue to add to her statement. "No, please, tell me. Because I honestly don't know what we're doing anymore. Do you even want to continue this?" She motions between them.
"Of course. Britt, I... I just said I didn't want to go to prom, I didn't know..." Santana's rambling is cut off by an incredulous laugh. She gets defensive, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "What?"
"You didn't say you don't want to go to prom. You said you can't go to prom. With me." Brittany also crosses her arms in front of her chest. "What does that mean, Santana ?"
"Britt, if we're each other's dates, people will know about us. There are enough rumours about us as it is, we don't need to fuel them on." She lowers her voice, aware of the fact that they're standing on her street in the middle of the day for all her neighbors to see. "They don't need to know that we're... you know... girlfriends."
"We have been hiding for nearly a year now. We still haven't told anybody yet. How long do you want to keep us a secret?"
"I..." Santana doesn't know how to answer that. She remembers promising Brittany to try and come out to her family, at least, but she still hasn't found the courage to do so. "I don't know." Both girls sigh deeply. "Look, I know that I promised you to try, but..." Her voice cracks, tears well up in her eyes. "Going to prom is just... everyone will know." She tilts her head up to look at Brittany and manages a shaky laugh. She doesn't know how else to plead her case.
"I would be with you, Santana. I'll be right at your side, holding your hand. I promise you, it's going to be okay." Again, Brittany is trying hard to win Santana over. For some reason, she never saw 'coming out' as the end of her life. She's only still in the closet because Santana fears that Brittany's outing will inevitably be Santana's, too. "How does that sound?" The blonde knows that this is just another futile attempt to get a rise out of Santana, but really, what else can she do?
"Britt..." Just the thought of standing there, in front of the whole student body, being outed in front of everyone, is enough to make Santana burst out in tears.
And just like that, Brittany feels her resolve crumbling. She wrapes her arms around Santana in a soft and loving embrace. "It's okay, San." Brittany rolls her eyes at herself. She knows that it's not okay. It's painfully obvious that Santana is not okay. Wiping away a tear of her own, Brittany whispers "Let's get you home."
That evening, after Santana has finally calmed down, she begs Brittany to give her another chance. She vows her girlfriend (and most importantly, herself) that she'll find a way to make their relationship official, that she'll tell her parents and her abuela, that she'll become a girl who's comfortable with being just herself. She just needs a little more time.
Brittany doesn't stand a chance against brown puppy eyes. She tells Santana that Junior Prom sucks anyway and that she'd rather spend her time at home, sharing some Sweet Lady Kisses with her girlfriend. She grants Santana more time to come out.
Santana pinky-promises that she'll never disappoint Brittany again.
"And I assume that time run out during High School, still?"
"Yeah, I was able to drag it out 'til Senior Year, but by then, we had reached our breaking point. The relationship ended some time before graduation. It was, well, heartbreaking to say the least, but I understood."
It's eight weeks to graduation.
An 18 year-old Santana is waiting for her (still secret) girlfriend Brittany to return from the principal. He'd told her that they needed talk about Brittany's SAT-score. Santana had insisted on going in with her because she didn't trust Figgins and seriously doubted if he was even qualified to be principal, but Brittany told her she'd manage and Santana knew she would.
So, Santana is sitting through Mr. Schuester's incredible low-quality "Spanish" class on her own, while thinking of a way to either come out before graduation (yeah, as if that was a possibility) or get Brittany not to ask her to prom. If only-
"Santana?" The brunette looks up to find the room empty except for Mr. Schuester, who is staring at her expectantly. "Class is over."
"Oh." Right, that's why she heard the bell ringing. "Sorry." Stuffing her textbook into her backpack, Santana leaves the room hurriedly and strolls through the busy hallway, finding the door of Figgins' office open. She finds the room empty, no trace of Brittany, Figgins and whoever else was in there.
However, she notices a missed text from Brittany on her cell. 'Something's come up. Went home. Talk to you later'
It's strange but what there's nothing she can do about it right now, so she just texts back 'Okay, love you, xoxo' and makes her way to algebra class.
Hours later, when Brittany comes over to her house, her eyes clouded with something Santana can only describe as gloom, she concludes that whatever Brittany talked about with Figgins probably didn't mean anything good.
Nervousness swells in her stomach. She doesn't like the stern expression that settles on Brittany's face. She doesn't like when Brittany tells her to sit down on her bed. And she has a feeling that she won't like what Brittany has to say to her, either.
Santana tries to lighten up the situation. "Oh my god, Britt. This here is giving me some serious 'breaking-up'-vibes." It's the wrong thing to say. Because it takes exactly two seconds for Brittany to nod quietly, her facial expression changing into one of resignation and guilt.
And although Brittany is trying to stop Santana from breaking apart, trying to tell her that she doesn't want to break up, that she loves her with all her heart, always has and always will, Santana's heart shatters into a million tiny pieces. She can see Brittany's lips moving but the words don't quite reach her brain.
Brittany tells her, that because of her SAT score she was offered a full-ride scholarship at MIT and that they want her to start as soon as possible. She tells Santana, that for once in her life someone besides Santana and her family recognized her genius, that someone trusted her to compete with the most brilliant minds the world had ever seen. She tells her, that if it wasn't for Santana, she'd never even have started believing in herself and that she feels like she must be the luckiest girl in the world to be loved by someone like Santana.
Santana laughs at that. "Then how come you're here to break up with me?"
"Please don't say it like this is an easy thing for me to do, San." Blue eyes are welling up with tears. Brown eyes are staring blankly. "Breaking up with you was something I never wanted to do. And I don't even want to do it, but I feel like this could be a new chance. For us."
Another laugh leaves Santana's lips. "That doesn't even make sense."
"It does to me. Santana, I love you, with all my heart. But right now, it honestly feels like we've reached a dead end. You promised me to come out over and over again for the past two years, but nothing has happened. And I've tried so hard to help you and support you, but all you ever did was procrastinate. And then, apologize to me." The blonde girl sat down next to the brunette who was now heavily sobbing.
"I know that, Britt. And I-I'm trying so hard to become a better person."
Brittany shook her head slowly. "You don't need to become a better person, you're already the best. You just need to show the world the real you. And I know that you'll do that when you're ready to. I realized that pressuring you to come out isn't fair to you. But you'll have to realize that keeping me in the closet with you isn't fair to me, either."
"Can't I just move to Boston with you?" Santana's voice cracks as more and more tears roll down her cheeks. "I'm sure I could be a waitress somewhere near campus." She's grasping at straws now, knowing exactly that it's not the distance that's breaking them apart.
"Oh come on, San." A playful nudge is delivered to her shoulder. "You're so much better than that. You'll find your way, I'll find mine. And I don't know about you, but I think our paths are going to cross somewhere."
"I hope so, too." Santana snuggles herself into Brittany, trying to absorb the warmth spreading through her body.
The truth is that Santana didn't need to hope for their paths to cross. Because from that day on, whenever she looked up into the starry night-sky and noticed the stellar constellation that Brittany once showed her, she was reminded that out there in Boston, her soulmate was waiting for her.
"And do you think that you've matured enough to have another chance at... I don't know..." The talk show host moves her hands around, trying to make it look like two mouths kissing each other.
The audience 'awww's again and Santana hides her face in her hands, trying to look like she's hiding a blush, when she's really just trying to quell the building tears. It hurts her to think of that time. Even more so, because – and she's just realized it now – she still hasn't made her fucking way. Behind all the awards and make-up and PR-tinted public persona, there's still just a scared little girl hiding in the closet.
In that moment, Santana makes a decision. "Actually, no. But I'm having a rare moment of courage here, so my answer will probably change in about thirty seconds."
"And why's that ?" Ellen looks at the executive producer opposite them, probably checking if he knows what's going on. He shrugs his shoulders but tells the cameraman to focus on Santana.
And as soon as the brunette singer finds the cameras focusing on her, she hears herself speaking up.
It's the first day after Santana's interview with Ellen.
A 28 year-old Santana is slowly trudging up a foreign staircase. Normally, she would've taken the elevator, but the apartment she's looking for is located on the second floor and she's thankful for the chance to delay her arrival.
Yesterday's confession is spreading through the media like a wildfire, paparazzi camped out on her front lawn and she can't stop thinking about how fucking good she feels nevertheless. Santana steps onto the floor with a vigor she hasn't felt in a long time.
202...204...206...208. She has reached her destination. Well, actually she's aiming for a little more than just the door. She just needs to knock. Piece of cake... Santana clears her throat. She raises her hand to knock... and lowers it again.
Should she have brought flowers? Maybe she should get some. Yeah, she remembers passing a florist on the way here. That won't take long. And anyway, it's not like she has a deadline to meet. Or was there ? Is there some kind of protocol for –
Panic interruptus. The door in front of her opens suddenly. Blue eyes meet brown ones. Oh shit.
Brittany S. Pierce is leaning casually against the door frame, a smug grin on her face, eyeing Santana up and down. In her hand, she's holding a tabloid, Santana's photo plastered on the front page, the headline reading 'I'm gay'.
Before Santana can say anything, Brittany spreads the paper and reads out loud. "The singer-songwriter denies rumors that she was blackmailed or pressured into coming out, saying that she realized that there was something she needed even more than her career or people's approval. When asked what that was, Lopez flashed a brilliant smile and answered 'love'." Brittany folds the paper and raises her eyebrow at Santana.
"I'm a sap, I know." The brunette rolls her eyes at herself. "But the point I was trying to make is that I love you. Always have and always will. I want to be with you officially. I want to wake up next to you, spend my day doing couple-stuff with you and then fall asleep with you in my arms. I want to meet your parents as your girlfriends and I want you to meet mine as my girlfriend. That's all I ever really wanted. I'm sorry that it took me until now to see that and I hope to God that I'm not too late."
When Brittany throws her arms around her neck, pulling her in for a deep kiss that is so intense, Santana knows that she's not. And when Brittany pulls her inside her apartment with a shy smile, Santana feels like she's finally where she belongs.