Death is in the air. It's in every shadow on the ground; every whisper in the breeze; every little petal that sits, smugly, on its stem. You could feel it in the atmosphere too. There's a kind of tension, a friction, like two worlds rubbing together. And friction causes fire, which is also, what death feels like.
Santana breathed in deeply and closed her eyes. Strands of her hair flew around her face but she made no move to tuck it behind her ears or prevent it from happening. Her hands were tucked deep into her pockets of her jeans, her thumb lightly grazing the pattern down the side.
She could hear birds somewhere above her, whistling songs to one another, their way to communicate. Almost like the Glee club. She could hear tires crunching on the gravel, as cars took their owners home, back to lives that made sense. The world was carrying on around her but this she couldn't understand. Why was the Earth continuing to rotate on its axis when her own world had completely stopped in its tracks? Why was time still passing when every second she stood, eyes closed, face turned to the sky, felt like an eternity, as if time wasn't moving at all?
A single droplet of rain exploded on her face but she was so numb she didn't even flinch. She could now feel the wet soaking through her jumper, plastering her hair to her face but she didn't care. It felt nice, cool, like stepping into a waterfall. When she opened her eyes she could no longer tell whether the drops on her face were indeed raindrops or tears falling from the clouds that were her eyes. It all mixed in together, until it wasn't easy to spot whether she was crying or not.
The sky was beautiful. A million different colours, all of different shades, were nestled amongst one another, intermingling so that they almost looked the same. Brittany would have liked it.
When her name shot into her mind something happened to Santana's heart. It stuttered, a pain ripping through it that was so intense Santana's hand immediately clutched at it, her body bending forwards as she tried to dispel it. Her mind was a hurricane of words, thoughts that right now she didn't want. She screwed her eyes shut against the agony, her body shaking.
"It's okay, it's okay, sweetheart,"
A voice sounded from behind her and warm arms folded around the shaking wreck that passed as her body. With these arms wrapped around her she could no longer stand. The person holding her fell with her so that when she hit the ground she wasn't alone.
X
"You know I love you, right?" Brittany said, twisting her head to look at Santana.
"Of course I do," Santana said, smiling. "I love you too,"
"Don't forget me,"
"Never,"
X
"Santana, you need to eat something,"
Santana didn't answer. The food on her plate was no different than being served dog shit which made it all the more uninviting. She stabbed a piece of broccoli with her fork and bit off the tiniest piece she could. She could feel it getting lost in the crevices of her mouth.
"You haven't eaten since yesterday lunchtime,"
Santana knew that. She'd been forced against her will to go to the coffee shop down the road with Quinn, the only one who treated her like a normal person these days, rather than someone who may fall apart at the seams at any given moment. Granted she herself felt like anything could set her off but that didn't mean people could treat her like she had a disease.
"Your father and I have been meaning to talk to you,"
Santana inwardly groaned and forced herself to look up. Her parents were sitting across from her, watching her every move like she might detonate if they turned away. They were worried, she knew, but this was beyond suffocating. She pushed her plate away from her and sat back, folding her arms across her chest and putting a look on her face that showed how much she wanted to be here.
"We're worried about you,"
Santana resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She knew that. What was this really about? Did they seriously think that after a week she'd pick herself back up and go about life as normal? That was the last thing she felt like doing. Besides, it wasn't as if life would ever be normal again.
"We were thinking of getting in touch with a psychiatrist,"
At these words Santana's head shot up. They wanted her to see a shrink? Were they insane? No-one would ever understand how this felt, no-one, especially not some stranger who's taught what to say by some stupid degree they took.
"No, no way," Santana said, pushing away from the table and standing up.
"Santana, please, listen," Her mom pleaded. "It might help you, having someone to talk to,"
"I don't want someone to talk to, do you not get that?" Santana snapped. "I want her,"
Her mom looked down, her eyes glassy. Her father hesitantly raised his arm and draped it around her shoulders, avoiding looking at Santana as best he could. Nothing in her faltered. She didn't feel guilty, or ashamed or much of anything really. She just felt angry. So fucking angry.
X
"Can you kiss me again?" Brittany asked when Santana was sure she'd fallen asleep.
"Are you not tired? I think you should rest... You need your energy," Santana said worriedly, pulling the blankets up to Brittany's chin.
"I just... Can you kiss me goodnight?"
Santana smiled slightly and pressed her lips to Brittany's. She tugged on Brittany's bottom lip, her tongue tracing her teeth. Except there was no passion behind it. To Brittany, it felt too much like a goodbye.
X
"Your mom told me I'd find you out here,"
Santana didn't turn around. She knew who it was. But right now she would really have appreciated the time alone. Quinn sat down next to her and wrapped her arms around her knees. A shiver coursed through her even though it wasn't that cold outside. Santana ran her hand through the grass beneath her and closed her eyes, revelling in the feeling. Brittany had loved the feel of the grass on her bare skin, the way it tickled if she touched it lightly enough, the way it pricked her when she pressed too hard.
She opened her eyes again when the pain started and looked at Quinn, a look on her face that asked 'what are you doing here?' Quinn looked back at her, their eyes locking. Santana couldn't bare it, the feel of another's eyes boring into hers. She looked away, cursing herself for allowing this to happen. Why did she do it to herself?
"How are you feeling?"
Santana almost laughed. How did she think she was feeling? Was it not obvious? Anyone could see the bags under her eyes and know that she'd barely slept for a week. Anyone could see the way her clothes hung to her body because they were too big for her. Anyone could see the expressionless look in her eyes and know how black and scarred her heart was. Anyone could see she was hurting.
"I'm sorry," Quinn said softly. "I realise it's a stupid question,"
Santana looked up, the sky beginning to cloud over. She watched the trees swaying, the suicide leap of a single leaf, the wings of a butterfly fluttering helplessly. Still the world went on, its endless cycle of life and death.
Even Quinn could see it was pointless after an hour of sitting in silence. She stood up, brushing herself down. A gentle touch to the head was her goodbye but, unlike Brittany's, it wasn't her last.
X
"How are you feeling?"
Santana gently held her hand to Brittany's forehead, feeling for the temperature she already knew was there by the heat she could feel radiating from the girl. Brittany's eyes closed against her touch, stuttering closed like she couldn't keep them open any more.
"I'm cold, San," She murmured.
No-one was sure what happened next but when Santana's arms pulled the girl closer to her and wrapped them around her tightly Brittany was able to settle, her temperature dropping to what was normal within a matter of minutes.
X
"How about we go for a walk? It's quite nice out, I'm sure the beach will be warm,"
"No,"
"How about the woods then? The squirrels might not be there, it's out of season, but the fresh air would do you some good,"
"No,"
"We could go to the mall? I know you wanted to get some new clothes with the money you got on your birthday,"
"I don't want to go out,"
"Just come shopping with me then, I need to get some food in, your dad said he'd starve if I didn't go out soon,"
"Mom, stop it,"
"Stop what, Santana?"
"Stop all this! Nothing is going to make this easier, nothing! The beach, great, the place Britt and I went for our first anniversary. The woods, even better, the place where Britt first told me she loved me after I saved a stupid woodlouse from a trampling toddler! And the mall, where do I start?"
"Okay, Santana," A sigh escaped her lips. "Just don't slip away from me; I couldn't bear to lose you,"
X
Brittany smiled her face pale and chalky in the sunlight. She held out a shaking hand, a single piece of bread resting in her palm. The duck waddled towards her, his head stretching out before he reached her, almost as if he had to make sure she wasn't tricking him. The smile on her face got wider as he grabbed the bread from her hand and scuttled off.
"Did you see that, San?" She asked excitedly, the weakness visible behind her happiness.
"I sure did, Britt," Santana said, snapping a picture of her when she turned to face her, that smile captured on film forever.
Within minutes the smile was replaced by a grimace. Santana was immediately in front of her, her hands running over Brittany's body searching for signs of pain. She looked up into Brittany's eyes and was momentarily stunned by the intensity and the sadness in them. She wrapped the blanket they'd brought out with them tighter around her shoulders.
"What's the matter?" She asked quietly.
"Can you just... hold me?" Brittany said her voice noticeably weak again.
"Of course I can," Santana said, sitting beside her and allowing Brittany to sink into the familiar crook of her shoulder. "I'm never letting go,"
X
"My name's Doctor Graham, Santana,"
Santana stayed staring at the floor, her arms folded across her chest. She didn't want to be here. She wanted to be anywhere but here. Even home would be a better alternative. She tapped her foot impatiently, showing this doctor that she wasn't interested in what he had to say.
"Your mom is incredibly concerned about you," He said, his pen resting on the blank pad in front of him.
Santana rolled her eyes and sighed. She already knew this. How many people were going to try and make her feel like crap, constantly reminding her that this behaviour she was exhibiting just hurt everyone? What about her? What about much she was hurting?
"It's come to my understanding that you recently lost someone," He said. God, this man never gave up. "Someone who was very important to you. Would you like to talk about it?"
"What exactly do you want me to say?" Santana said, looking directly at him when she spoke. "Do you want me to tell you it hurts? That sometimes I just can't get out of bed because it feels like my insides have turned to lead?"
"Why don't you tell me about the person you've lost," He suggested.
Santana wasn't expecting it. She leant back against the chair. She should never have started talking in the first place. Now he'd suggested that and what could she say? There were many things she could tell him about Brittany. The way she hated the colour blue yet still managed to find it the most fascinating colour to paint with. The way she'd screw her face up when she was trying not to cry. The mole behind her left ear that she hadn't realised she had until some dick in primary school told her it meant she'd die.
"What was her name?"
Santana looked up again, the fury in her eyes dulling out to a simple, yet strong, sadness.
"Brittany," She said softly. "Her name was Brittany,"
X
"That's a nice one," Brittany said, smiling and pointing to the picture where her and Santana were sat side by side, dressed to the nines, at their first ever prom together.
"It's a beautiful one," Santana agreed, putting it to the side and showing her the next one.
A laugh bubbled through her lips and Santana froze. This was a moment she wanted on video tape so that one day she'd come across it and be able to hear that sound again, just in case she'd forgotten it. The photo was one taken after Nationals. They'd lost and the entire plane journey back had been in silence. But this photo held more than that. Mike was fast asleep, his mouth wide open. Tina was curled up beside him, their hands clasped together. Finn looked too big to be allowed, his body taking up the entire space he and Rachel had been given.
"What's so funny?" Santana asked, lightly nudging her.
"It's just... Look how far we've come," Brittany said, her head flinging back as she thought about it. "We went on to win that thing,"
"Yeah, yeah we did," Santana said, smiling.
"Can you promise me something?" Brittany asked, suddenly serious.
"Anything,"
"I want you to look through these photos at least once a week. Observe every part of it, go over every detail. Think about every little thing, San, keep the memory alive,"
X
Santana pulled the photo album out from underneath her bed and turned to the first page. Brittany looked back at her, frozen forever. A small smile formed on Santana's face as she turned the page and saw Brittany dancing, up on that stage, a look of such concentration that Santana was ready to bet she'd completely zoned out, entirely focused on the act she was performing.
The next photo was one of the two of them. Brittany was pulling her tongue out, her eyes wide. She looked happy but then she always had. Even at the end. Santana curled her arms around her chest and bent forward, trying her hardest to trap the pain inside. It didn't work like it was supposed to. When the first tear came there was nothing she could do to stop the torrent of others.
Sobs wracked her body, the agony filling her from the bottom of her heart. It worked its way up, filling her lungs with the grief, forcing her to take deeper breaths even though this was harder. It felt like she drowning.
"Oh, baby," Her mom said, entering the room and folding Santana into her embrace. "What can I do to make it better? What can I do...?"
X
Santana was in the shower. Brittany could hear the water running through the pipes. The box was still light in her hands. She lifted it on to her lap and removed the lid from the top. Inside were dozens of post-it notes, all different colours, all holding a million different memories. She took a pen from her bedside table and a blue note and carefully wrote out a new one.
'We went to the beach. You brought a picnic because you know how much I love them. You sat me on the deck chair to support me and you sat on the blanket because you hate the feel of sand under your clothes. You broke off a piece of the sandwich you'd made and held it out to me but before I could take it a seagull did. We laughed that day. We laughed so hard it hurt.'
X
"Tell me about her, what was she like," Doctor Graham said, his pad now on his lap, pen in hand.
Santana smiled slightly and shrugged. "She was perfect. She could make you smile without doing anything. She never thought of herself, she was the least selfish person I've ever met. Her eyes were always warm, you know? Like looking into a fire, and just as mesmerising,"
Doctor Graham smiled slightly and wrote something down. "What's your first memory, Santana?"
Santana thought hard.
"I was five years old," She said slowly. "I fell over cos some jerk shoved me. Brittany was the one to catch me; even then she picked me up from the ground,"
"Do you have any memories without Brittany?" The Doctor asked carefully.
Santana searched through her mind. "No," She said softly. "No, I don't,"
X
"What are you thinking about?" Santana asked quietly, her fingers running through Brittany's hair.
"Will you get mad at me if I tell you?" Brittany asked nervously, burrowing herself closer to the warmth Santana provided her with.
"Of course not," Santana said, panicking slightly.
"I was thinking about dying," Brittany said softly.
Santana's hand stilled in Brittany's hair. She wasn't mad, but she was upset. She didn't trust herself to speak so continued to run her fingers over Brittany's head, unsure of what exactly was running through her mind.
"I knew you'd be mad with me," Brittany's voice was so small that Santana felt a pang of guilt shoot across her chest.
"I'm not mad with you," She said. "Why are you thinking about it?"
"Because it's going to happen," Brittany said, her hand fisting Santana's shirt. "I'm going to die,"
"Don't think like that," Santana told her. "There's stuff out there, people out there, working on cures and things,"
"Santana, I'm sorry but you know I'm right," Brittany said, her voice muffled. "You have to let me go,"
"I'm never letting you go,"
X
"How are you feeling?" Doctor Graham watched her carefully, knowing that sometimes body language spoke volumes when the patient was a bit worried about spilling feelings.
"I'm... I'm okay," Santana said, annoyed with herself for talking to this man, annoyed for allowing herself to be drawn in by the concern he seemed to show, the interest he had in the words she spoke, when she knew, for a fact, that he was trained to behave like this.
Doctor Graham could see the gears working in Santana's brain. She looked exhausted. Her eyes were bloodshot. There were dark bags underneath them, hanging heavy like sacks. Her cheekbones were much more prominent. Maybe she wasn't eating? But she'd have to tell him that herself, he couldn't make assumptions.
"Do you tell anyone what I say in here?" She asked suddenly, her eyes darting nervously around the room.
"No, Santana, these sessions are for you," Doctor Graham assured her. "Anything you say in here stays in here,"
Something passed through Santana's eyes but Doctor Graham was unable to tell what it was as it disappeared just as quickly.
"How are you sleeping?" He asked.
"I don't," Santana muttered.
"That must be awfully hard for you," Doctor Graham said. "When you don't sleep you have no energy for things like concentration, and willpower,"
"I don't have any willpower," Santana said, looking up at him, her face holding no emotion. "There is nothing left inside,"
X
Santana had never told anyone this but once her relationship with Brittany had nearly ended. She'd been at school, like normal, talking to another girl. The girl was obviously into her. She smiled and pushed herself closer to Santana when she spoke. She flirted. Of course Brittany presumed the worst.
She'd refused to talk for the rest of the day. Santana had tried to make conversation but even when it just the two of them she wouldn't speak. Santana finally gave up when they got back to Brittany's, throwing herself around without a care in the world.
"Come on, what's this about?" She finally snapped.
"You mean you don't know?" Brittany said just as furiously.
"No, I don't! Do you think because I spend all my time with you that I should know everything that goes on in that head of yours?"
"I don't know why I bother, Santana," Brittany said flinging herself onto the bed and pulling off her shoes.
"Is this about before? When that girl was talking to me?" Santana asked incredulously.
"Yes, actually, it is," Brittany cried her face wet from tears. "Do you think it's nice for me? Do you think I enjoyed watching you flirt together?"
"I was not flirting with her," Santana said offended. "She was flirting with me,"
"So why didn't you stop it? Huh?" Brittany said, shaking her head slightly. "Are you looking for a replacement?"
"A replacement?" Santana asked confused. "A replacement for what?"
"For me!"
The words hung in the air like smoke. Santana's whole body froze as the full impact of what had happened today hit her. She hadn't realised it'd bothered Brittany so much. Brittany put her head in her hands, her body shaking with sobs.
"Brittany..." Santana said weakly, sitting down next to her. "Is that what this is about? You're worried I'm gonna replace you?"
Brittany didn't say anything but Santana already knew. She draped her arm around the girl's shoulders and pulled her closer to her. Brittany grasped at her T-shirt, clinging on for dear life.
"No-one could ever replace you," Santana ground out furiously against her shoulder. "There is no-one else for me in this world. I couldn't live without you,"
Brittany looked up at her, a pained expression on her red, tear stained face.
"But then, San," She said slowly. "What are you gonna do?"
X
Churches are beautiful places. There's an air about them, one that suggests you're not alone. The birds are still singing in the trees that are drifting lazily above them. Santana glanced around. Brittany's parents couldn't have picked a more perfect place to have the funeral.
She could see the hearse in the distance. Brittany was lying, arms folded across her chest, in the mahogany coffin. Surrounding her were flowers, memories, a beautiful flower arrangement spelling her name. Santana could see Mr Schue and the rest of Glee club crowding around the front doors of the church, the boys clad in a suit and tie, the girls wearing beautiful sleek black dresses.
Santana slowly walked towards them, her hands fluttering by her sides. Mr and Mrs Pierce were standing together; they were both crying.
"Santana, there you are,"
Quinn came forward to meet her, locking their arms together. Santana didn't speak. She thought that, if she did, she wouldn't be able to stop and a whole torrent of emotions she didn't want would spill out of her. The Glee club looked uncomfortable when they approached. None of them said a word to her, merely nodded slightly before looking away, like they couldn't bear it.
"Santana, we're really glad you could make it,"
Santana turned around to see Mrs Pierce standing behind her, her hands rubbing together nervously.
"I wouldn't miss it for the world," Santana said softly.
Mrs Pierce smiled before patting Santana gently on the arm. "She would have been so happy to see you,"
A stutter formed in Santana's heart so she smiled and turned away before she could say anything else that might set her off. Quinn rubbed her back soothingly as Mr Pierce, Finn, Blaine and Mr Schue took the coffin from the hearse and began to carry it inside. Santana walked forwards, behind them, and the rest of the Glee club followed.
Inside the church was beautiful. A massive stained glass window was towering over them all, a dozen different lights filtering through at all angles. The pews were straight and each space had a Bible on it. Santana waited until the men had placed the coffin on the stand before she walked up to it and placed a single red rose in its centre. Then, with everyone's eyes on her she wrapped her arms around it, her cheek resting on the plaque that held Brittany's name.
The vicar allowed Santana to sit down by Quinn and Mrs Pierce before he started speaking. Santana never once took her eyes off the coffin but she couldn't say she listened to a word the man was saying. He read scripture, he read poems. He spoke of Brittany like he would an old friend, except he didn't know her. Not as well as her anyway.
"And now, I'd like to welcome the Glee club to the floor, to sing a final tribute to our friend, Brittany Pierce,"
Santana watched as the Glee club formed a line in front of the coffin. She was about to stand up and demand they move because they were blocking her view but the music started before she could and she found herself stuck to the pew.
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh. So I was the one with all the glory, Did you ever know that you're my hero, It might have appeared to go unnoticed, Did you ever know that you're my hero? Did I ever tell you you're my hero? Oh, the wind beneath my wings. Fly, fly, fly high against the sky,
It must have been cold there in my shadow,
to never have sunlight on your face.
You were content to let me shine, that's your way.
You always walked a step behind.
while you were the one with all the strength.
A beautiful face without a name for so long.
A beautiful smile to hide the pain.
and everything I would like to be?
I can fly higher than an eagle,
'cause you are the wind beneath my wings.
but I've got it all here in my heart.
I want you to know I know the truth, of course I know it.
I would be nothing without you.
You're everything I wish I could be.
I could fly higher than an eagle,
'cause you are the wind beneath my wings.
You're everything, everything I wish I could be.
Oh, and I, I could fly higher than an eagle,
'cause you are the wind beneath my wings,
'cause you are the wind beneath my wings.
You, you, you, you are the wind beneath my wings.
Fly, fly, fly away. You let me fly so high.
Oh, you, you, you, the wind beneath my wings.
Oh, you, you, you, the wind beneath my wings.
so high I almost touch the sky.
Thank you, thank you,
thank God for you, the wind beneath my wings.
Her song for Brittany. The one they used to sing to each other before they fell asleep, sometimes at night, or in Brittany's case, during the day. The church rang with the echo of clapping. Santana clapped too, a tear running down her cheek.
X
On Brittany's last day alive she was in hospital. Nothing the doctors gave her would bring down her temperature. She was covered in her own sweat, looking worse than she ever had before. Santana desperately placed a cold wet flannel over her forehead in an attempt to make her feel better but nothing was working.
"San..." Brittany said weakly.
"Yes, sweetheart?"
"I'm so tired,"
Santana looked away, a single tear rolling down her cheek. She grasped Brittany's hand in hers and squeezed it knowing Brittany wouldn't feel it anyway.
"I know, baby," She said quietly, blinking through her tears. "You go to sleep, close your eyes,"
"It was a good one wasn't it, San," Brittany murmured, her eyes drifting shut.
"Yeah," Santana whispered. "Yeah, it was the best,"
X
Santana stayed long after the service had finished. She stayed long after the vicar went home at the end of the day. She stayed until the moon replaced the sun and she could no longer make out the names on each grave.
She walked until her feet hurt, until the backs of her legs were burning. She couldn't feel the sting of the cold air on her bare skin. She wasn't aware of the rain when it started falling.
Santana walked through the forest, the bracken and broken twigs cutting her skin open on her legs. She pushed through tangles of leaves; she climbed over trunks that had lost their other half too. She kept going until she reached the highway, the cars going by so fast she could barely see them.
"Wait for me, baby," She whispered.
Without a thought on what she was doing she walked forward. She didn't feel a thing as the car plummeted into her. She didn't feel the force. She didn't even feel her body roll over the top of the car and land on the tarmac. All she could feel was relief. Sweet and blessed release.
Hey guys! This is just a one-shot that came to mind when I was half asleep. I started writing it last night and I just couldn't stop! Please read and review