Quick one-shot. Written for a prompt about Brittany dreaming of Santana - the one she truly wants to spend her final hours with.
Possible vague spoilers for 4x10... Not that anybody will be watching that joke of an episode anyways.
It's late. One, maybe two in the morning.
The world isn't ending and she's asleep – lying on her side at the end of the bed with loose bits of golden hair tickling her face.
He smiles sadly. She looks so beautiful and peaceful. He hopes that maybe, just maybe, when she wakes up, she'll be glad they didn't die. She'll be happy they are together now and can be for a while.
"S...Sa..." She whispers. Her eyes are still closed. She's dreaming.
He wonders for a brief moment if she's maybe even dreaming of him. But just when he leans forward to listen nervously -
"Santana?"
He frowns and backs away again, heart plummeting down into his gut.
"Santana? I missed you so much." She mumbles, body squirming in place... almost like she's reaching for someone. "I thought I was going to die... and... and I'd never get to see you again."
Her face scrunches up. Her words thicken with building tears.
"But you're here. I'm so sorry. Please don't leave me again. Please. I'll do anything."
He's not sure if he should feel angry or hurt... but he just feels defeated. This isn't about him. It never was.
It was always about Santana.
"I... I didn't mean it. I was just so lonely and sad... I thought it would make me feel better to play pretend..."
She turns and buries her face into the bedspread, outright sobbing and shaking.
He considers waking her to offer some comfort... but he feels frozen in place.
This is everything he feared.
"I love you San. I love you so much. Please, stay with me. I don't wanna live without you. I... I c-can't."
Her fingernails are gripping at the mattress. She's crying so hard, so desperately.
He shakes his head and lets out a shaky breath.
Her heart doesn't belong to him. It never will.
He suddenly feels uncomfortable in her room. He shouldn't be there.
With a hard swallow, he slowly climbs off the bed, careful not to wake her, and puts on his shoes.
She's kicking a bit now. Her sobs have turned to broken, stuttered breaths and gasps.
She would never cry like that over him.
He's not the one.
He finishes tying his laces and grabs his jacket from the floor.
He tries to block out the way she mutters I love you over and over again to the girl of her dreams as he shuts the door behind him.
Enough.
Enough now.