Author's note: It's a tiny little ficlet that popped into my head while I was trying to fall asleep. Brittana/Bartie. Feel free to review (I'd love it if you did).
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Artie knows. He's known from the very first night with her when she said she could help him get over a certain someone. Names were not named, except the one on her tongue that threatened to slip out every time she let her eyes close. From that night, he knew Brittany would never be his as long as her heart still fit delicately in the hole left by the only person who would ever have access to Brittany's deepest layers.
Even now as he glances towards Santana, sitting so still in her chair as if a single movement would dislodge her composure and send heartbreak pouring out, even now: he sees Brittany's fingerprints burned into memories on Santana's skin. Brittany's name beats through the hole in Santana's chest. As she sits so silent and frozen, Artie can make out the ghost of a pinkie in hers that locks her into place like an invisible anchor.
Brittany enters the room and her sky blue eyes catch Santana's, causing each girl to glow with promises of a bright future and darken with the crashing wave of truth. Brittany plants herself next to Artie, a hand slipping into his, but he can feel the pinkie extend, looking for its mate.
Santana deflates into her seat with glassy eyes and from her sigh comes images Artie knows too well: Brittany in a white dress; Brittany nursing a rosy-cheeked baby; Brittany chasing two daughters and a dog through a white-picket-fenced yard. He sees this nearly every night as he falls asleep, but no matter how hard he tries he's never in the fantasy. No, he sees what Santana sees: Brittany clutching her wife's pinkie as they stand at the altar; Santana with a camera, documenting a simple smile between mother and child; the two women falling laughing into the grass as their daughters and a dog pile on top. He sees this so often he knows, without malice, that this will be reality.
Artie knows that Brittany will never be his. He's known this from the first night when the echo of sweet lady kisses peppered her skin like snowflakes on Christmas Eve. Brittany belongs to Santana; the two are equal halves of the same soul.
He knows. Brittany will always be Santana's heart. All he can do is keep her safe until Santana heals enough to love without falter. And this is what he'll do, day after day, until Brittany can fall back into place with her pinkie nestled safely in its mate. He's not upset; he's always known this is how it would go. Artie will keep Brittany until Santana is ready.