A/N: So my other fic ("Dancing in the Dark") is currently on hiatus because I got hit with an idea which I think is better and I'd rather focus on that for now. So for those of you who were reading it, I'm sorry, but I really hope you like this one! I'm really new to this world of fan fiction, so comments are much appreciated. As is true with anything, fans are the most important part of art.

Do you ever wish life had a rewind button? Like, have you ever fucked up so bad that you wish you could start over completely? I'll admit, I've made some mistakes in my life. But none of them compare to the way I treated her. She was the one thing in my life that brought me happiness. But I was too blind and selfish to see that. I thought alcohol made me happy. I thought letting him fuck me would make me feel special. Really, all it did was make her feel like shit. I would do anything to show her I can change, but does everyone deserve a second chance? Do I deserve a second chance? Maybe she deserves better than me. Scratch that. I know she does. Regardless, I am madly and undeniably in love with her and all that she is. And no amount of whiskey will ever ebb the desire I have for her.

…

"You don't give a fuck, Santana!"

Her words sat numbly on my mind. Being wasted out of your fucking mind makes it really hard to respond to things like that, I've found. I could see the tears forming in her normally sparkling blue eyes. They weren't sparkling right now.

"You don't even deny it. I have worked so hard to make this work. I have sacrificed so much for you, trying to make you see how special and great you are…" her voice broke. "…I love you so much and you don't even care."

She fell to her knees and the sobs just started ripping out of her, wracking her entire body. I just watched. It was like seeing a horrible accident and not being able to look away. It hurt me to see her like that, but I couldn't bring myself to find the right words to say. "I love you" doesn't always work. This continued for a while. It seemed like an eternity before her sobs became small sniffles and shallow breaths. Then she uttered the words that obliterated my entire world: "I can't do this anymore. I have to go." She got up, walked out, and slammed the door behind her.

...

Santana awoke with a start. Her heart was racing and her body was coated with a fresh layer of sweat.

"Not again…" she groaned into her pillow.

This was definitely not the first time she had had this dream. It was a nightmare that plagued her mind on a regular basis. It had been two years since Brittany had left. Two years of not hearing her sweet, angelic voice telling her to "stop tickling me." Two years of not feeling the warmth and passion of her love. Two years of not seeing her bright, shining face light up upon seeing Santana simply walk into the room. And every single day it killed Santana, remembering what she no longer had.

The night she left, Santana had gotten drunk, which wasn't unusual. But what she had done while she was drunk was unforgivable. She had been at a bar. Her and Brittany had gotten into a petty argument again. That happened a lot. Santana's old therapist always told her that it was because Santana was insecure about her own faults, so she'd just take it out on Brittany, the only one who would listen. Santana promptly told her therapist to "shut the fuck up" and that was the end of that theory. That night at the bar, she had run into her ex-boyfriend Noah "Puck" Puckerman. The night started off innocently enough. They had a couple drinks, reminisced about old times, caught up on their current lives. But then the sweet-talking started. Usually Santana was immune, but it had been a long time since she'd seen him and he did have a way with words. She was also feeling shitty about the fight with Britt. So she let him have his way with her.

Overcome with guilt and shame, she told Brittany immediately. And like her dream iterates, Brittany just up and left. She moved to New York to live with their mutual friend Rachel Berry. She became a dancer, traveling all over the world, making something of herself. Dating. That's what hurt Santana the most, was hearing from Rachel that Brittany was dating. Just because Santana hadn't had the guts to propose yet didn't mean she didn't love her. She loved her with all that she was. She just had a few problems with her life. Problems that landed her a boring-ass job as a secretary in an office building. Problems that prevented her from moving out of Lima, Ohio. Problems that pushed Brittany away from her.

Santana shook her head. She had to stop thinking those things or she'd be drunk at…three in the morning? Suddenly she remembered why she had woken up. Her phone had been vibrating incessantly. She picked it up.

Twelve missed calls from Rachel Berry.

Santana's body froze with fear. Quickly, she dialed Rachel's number and waited for her to pick up. Each ring resounded throughout her being like a sledgehammer smashing her heart. Finally she picked up.
"Santana, you need to fly out here now. There's been an accident."