Drabble. Short. Terrible. Might continue, depending. Something to do before Christmas. I suck at these things.
_-
"Put it down, B," Santana whispered, looking her fiancée in the eye, "just put the gun down, and we can talk about this."
Brittany's arm quivered, but her stance remained solid. "No," she growled, "we can't, not anymore." All at once, the blonde's hard front dissolved, and she sank to her knees. She looked up, after her sobs had subisded into hiccups. Through a haze of tears she saw brown hair, brown eyes, and a terrible argyle sweater.
"W-we're sorry, Britt. We really are. We didn't mean for you to find out like thi-" Rachel's words were drowned in a sudden blast.
Brittany slumped against the small, Jewish girl, her breathing laboured, "It… doesn't… matter. I still… foun…"
"B?" Santana ran toward her lovers, a bed sheet barely keeping her modesty, "Britt? Duckie?" She threw Rachel out of the way, took the blonde into her arms, and all too quickly her eyes fell on the scarlet stain, sneaking it's way across her sweetheart's stomach.
"You didn't tell her?" Rachel stood, slowly, pulling her skirt down as she did, "You didn't tell her what we were d-"
"SHUT UP! SHUT THE FUCK UP, BERRY!"
"I thought she knew! That's why I came he-"
"I SAID SHUT YOUR MOUTH!"
Silence, for what seemed hours, until a pair of Hush Puppies made their way across the apartment floor, and out of the door. Dusk turned to dawn, and two figures stay in their place, one unable to move, one too afraid to admit the reality that would come crashing around her all too soon.
