Super quick little ficlet I wrote because I have a lot of feelings about Mercedes and what a great friend she is to Brittana and how much I wish this show would let them be great together onscreen. I wouldn't call this a fix-it fic at all, just a little something that kind of goes along with the episode. Okay, there's a tiny bit of fixing in there, but it's mostly just Brittany being a doll. It's choppy and not great, but my feelings were too overwhelming. Let me know if you liked it.
Title from a Wakey!Wakey song.
Brittany thought she'd miss the islands more, but as she waves goodbye to the disappearing taxi driving her friends further away from her, she realizes just how happy she is to finally be in New York. It feels like it's taken her a lifetime to get here, and the only thing missing is Santana.
She pouts a little at the reminder of her missing other half, and stumbles up the stairs of the brownstone, fiddling with the keys Blaine gave her after telling her he was going to spend the night at the loft with Kurt. Her vision is a bit hazy from the few drinks she downed earlier at the club, but she's only a little bit tipsy, and manages to unlock the door on her third try.
Brittany walks in quietly, closing the door behind her and looking around, only to find it's empty. It's pretty late, so she shouldn't be surprised to see that nobody else is awake, but Mercedes had mentioned plans of binge eating and binge watching before she left with the others, so she half expected the couple to still be watching television when she got home.
Instead, she finds herself alone in the darkness, and it seems so quiet, too quiet for New York. She can only hear the hum of the air conditioning and the low rumbles of the late night outside. It feels calming and it somehow reminds her of peaceful nights on sandy beaches, of ten months of pure happiness with the love of her life, and an extra one without her. It makes Brittany think about a few days before and she giggles.
What a lot of people don't seem to get about Brittany, is that she's a storyteller. Brittany loves to tell stories. She thinks life should be one fun, crazy adventure after another, and when it's not, she just pretends it is. So, her overweight, lazy cat became a chain smoking gangbanger from the wrong side of the tracks; a summer babysitting her little sister became a month long trek through the Lima underground; and flying her parents out to Hawaii for some quality family time before she relocates to New York became a plot from some Tom Hank's movie she hasn't actually seen.
Santana's the only one that gets that, but that's okay. Brittany's learned to enjoy the looks of confusion she gets from her friends, especially when Santana's there contrasting them with that loving, knowing smile of hers, reminding her that there's someone in the world that understands her inside and out, and loves her all the same.
Brittany wobbles and leans against the railing, grinning softly to herself as she thinks about her girlfriend, wishing she had been there the other day to give her a secret smile when she spun her story of lost passports and movie plots. She swings her purse around and fishes through it for her phone, shutting her eyes tightly when the bright screen illuminates in the darkness of the living room. It's late and she knows she should probably just text, but she really wants to hear Santana's voice.
"Britts?"
Brittany's grin widens when she hears that familiar and adorable sleepy voice. "Hey, baby," she greets softly. "Sorry I woke you up, just wanted to tell you I got home safe and that I miss you."
"Miss you, too," Santana mumbles, her words more slurred than Brittany's. "Wish I was there to cuddle you."
"I wish you were, too," Brittany sighs, remembering how much trouble she had falling asleep the past couple nights, even though she was sleeping in Santana's bed. But her smile doesn't falter because they'll be together again soon enough. "Go back to sleep, honey. I'll call you again in the morning."
"Kay," is Santana's barely audible reply, followed by a slightly more coherent, "Love you."
"I love you, too."
After hanging up, Brittany slips off her shoes and jacket and heads upstairs. She's sure to step lightly as she passes Sam and Mercedes' room, quietly slipping into the room Santana's been sharing with Blaine for the past month. Well, officially, anyway. Brittany's been in town for a few days now and Blaine hasn't spent the night at the brownstone once, so something tells her Santana's mostly had the room to herself.
But as Brittany shuts the door, a low sniffle lets her know that she's not the only one in the room tonight. Jumping a little in surprise, she squints through the darkness and is able to make out the shape of someone curled up in Blaine's usually empty bed.
"Mercedes?" Brittany whispers, stepping closer. Sure enough, Mercedes is laying under the covers, her chin tucked into her chest and her body curled into a ball, her back facing her. She doesn't acknowledge her presence, but the blonde knows she's awake. Kneeling on the edge of the bed, Brittany carefully places a hand on her friend's upper back, rubbing the area soothingly to get her attention. "What's wrong? Why aren't you sleeping in your room?"
"Sam and I broke up."
And then Mercedes starts crying and Brittany feels her tummy tighten. She hates seeing people cry, especially strong and awesome people like Mercedes, who usually work so hard to keep their heads high and their eyes dry. Mercedes is like Santana in that way.
Mercedes has always reminded her of Santana, and as she sits there listening to her cry, Brittany suddenly wonders if Mercedes has someone to be her Brittany or her Santana; someone she can open up to, that she can be completely unafraid with, someone that gets everything about her and still loves her. Brittany wonders if that person is Sam, and if Mercedes feels as completely and utterly alone as she did with Santana broke up with her.
Instead of asking what happened or offering her pointless apologizes, Brittany quickly changes into sleeping clothes slightly too small for her and slips into bed behind Mercedes, wrapping an arm around her waist and pressing her cheek against her shaking back, holding her tightly.
Mercedes just cries harder, clinging to the pale arm around her while Brittany cuddles in closer, more thankful than ever that she and Santana have managed to find their way back to each other. It takes a while, but eventually Mercedes calms down and relaxes into Brittany, slowly dozing off.
It's not the embrace either girl craves, but neither of them have to sleep alone.
The bed is empty when Brittany wakes up in the next morning, and she ignores the dull throbbing in her head in favor of searching for Mercedes. She pulls on some sweats and makes her way downstairs, where she finds her friend in the kitchen, humming softly and flipping pancakes in front of the stove.
"Morning," she greets quietly, partly due to her headache, but mostly because she's not sure what mood the other girl is in.
Mercedes turns to her and gives her a small, but genuine smile. Brittany can see sadness in her eyes, but she doesn't acknowledge it. "Hey, Britt. I wasn't sure how much you drank last night, but I left some aspirin out for you in case you need it."
Brittany glances down at the table, and sure enough, there's two pills and a glass of water sitting beside her empty plate. She looks back over to Mercedes, but the girl has her back turned to her again, her attention focused on the breakfast she's no doubt making to share with her, and suddenly Brittany is overwhelming at how amazing Mercedes truly is. She always takes such good care of her friends, even when she's the one that needs taking care of.
Shaking her head in disbelief, Brittany downs the pills before walking over and giving Mercedes a hug, wrapping her arms around her shoulders from behind and squeezing tightly. "Thank you."
Mercedes smiles and tilts her head back, turning her forehead to press against Brittany's temple. "Thank you."
Brittany understands what she means, but she also understands that she obviously doesn't want to talk about it, so she just gives her a quick kiss on the cheek and pulls away, moving towards the fridge to grab the syrup.
Brittany doesn't get the details of the breakup until they're on a plane to Reno a few days later, but she can tell that Mercedes is already feeling better.
"It still hurts, but I don't know," Mercedes explains with a shrug, lulling her head to the side to look at her blonde companion. "Now that we're out of New York, it's almost like a weight's been lifted."
"Yeah," Brittany agrees, though she's not sure she truly understands. She doesn't think it really matters, though, as long as Mercedes does. "I'm just glad you're happy again."
Mercedes hesitates for a moment, but pushes passed it. "I just kicked off my first tour, and I'm about to be traveling the country with my girls. How could I not be?"
Brittany sees right through it, but instead of calling her on it, she just smiles encouragingly and offers her one of her ear buds to share.
Santana meets them at the airport in Reno, and Mercedes pretends not to know them when Brittany runs across the lobby and jumps into Santana's arms, kissing her like they're in a Nicholas Sparks movie.
"God, I missed your face," Brittany breathes when she finally pulls away, loosening her legs and dropping back to her feet. She cups Santana's adorable, dimply chipmunk cheeks and just looks at her for a moment, getting reacquainted with every inch of the face she hasn't seen in over a month, before pressing a long, soft kiss against those heavenly lips of hers.
Mercedes watches her friends with a sad smile and an all too familiar ache in her chest, wondering if this is how things would've been when she and Sam reunited after so much time apart. Brittany and Santana look so happy and in love, and for a split second she wonders if she made a mistake.
But then she imagines the tearful goodbyes they'd have just a few days later, remembers how Santana moped around the apartment this past month, and how Brittany clung to her just as tightly as she was clinging to Brittany nights before, and she knows she made the right choice. She's about to start living her dream, and she can't let anything, or anyone, hold her back. Not even Sam Evans, no matter how much she loves him.
"Mercedes!" Brittany calls, apparently detaching her lips from Santana long enough to remember she's there. Her sunny voice breaks Mercedes from her thoughts, and when she looks over at her friends, she's met with matching expectant looks, the girls pulled slightly apart and their arms stretched wide, leaving enough room for Mercedes to join their hug.
"Well, come on, Wheezy," Santana grumbles with faux exasperation, her rolling eyes a contrast to the grin on her lips. "What are you waiting for? Get up in this. I kinda missed you, too."
The ache in her chest lessens a little bit, and Mercedes is engulfed in friendly warmth. "I always knew you wanted to make out with me, Satan."
"You wish!" Santana exclaims, but presses an obnoxious raspberry to Mercedes' cheek instead of insulting her. They disengage a few moments later when Mercedes realizes she's become part of the ridiculous scene these two fools have created.
"You two are so embarrassing," she laughs, wiping her cheek clean with a disgruntled look on her face.
Santana laughs with her, ignoring any looks they might be getting and bumping her hip into Mercedes while taking a hold of Brittany's hand. "Get used to it."
"Cause you're stuck with us," Brittany finishes meaningfully and with a bright smile, holding her other hand out towards her friend and wiggling her fingers.
Mercedes takes her hand, and the ache disappears.
This is just planned as a short one-shot, but I might randomly be inspired to write some Brittancedes touring hijinx one day, so you never know. Again, let me know what you thought and enjoy a Glee free rest of the year.