It started out as a …thing. Nothing really serious, and to this day Santana can't even tell you why that's the song she picked to sing. It's almost like a wicked foreshadowing. But every since the day Santana found an instrumental and started humming along and Brittany sat up in her bed, ruffling a few of Santana's curls and sleepily asked what song it was before mumbling that it was pretty, Maps has always been their's.
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Santana shows her the YeahYeahYeah's version (both actually) but Brittany isn't a fan. "'S pretty…Just not for me." Santana nods before clicking on The Fray's version. It's a hit for Brittany, Santana thinks as she looks behind her shoulder at Brittany softly swaying to it. Santana lets a smirk transform her face, waiting on Brittany's reaction and it's everything Santana didn't expect. "I like it. But I think you have the prettiest version." Santana hesitates in her response, she knows she's reading into the simple comment too deep…She and Brittany aren't…anything. Just friends who found themselves in each other's beds…often. But when Brittany says things like that, they make Santana feel like they could be so much more…and thinking like that is very, very dangerous.
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"Pack up, don't stray…"
Santana's the first one to realize she's in love. She barely gets the above lyrics out before randomly choking up. She knows she shouldn't be in love with the girl who's splayed out over her lap like she lives there but she is and she can't help it. "Oh, say, say, say…" She knows her voice has hit a raspier tone and in her heart she's knows exactly what those simple words mean in the song. It finally clicks and Santana repeats it more than she actually has to, begging through the song that she'll say that Santana isn't the only person who's in love here. Brittany has heard her sing the song so often that she can tell the difference and she sits up, furrowing her brows in Santana's direction. Her only word is "Santana?" They don't talk about that time, ever.
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When Brittany is the person singing it to Santana, she knows what that means. She knows why Brittany's eyes are watering and she's shaking her head and shivering as she forces the words out. Santana doesn't let her finish, she jerks away and tries her hardest to leave but Brittany's too fast to let her go. Santana finds her self penned to a wall and before she can even stop it tears are coming down her cheeks. "Just don't say it, Britt." She knows her rationale is stupid…even if Brittany doesn't say a word that's not going to be able to keep them together. And it breaks Santana's heart to know that this is the end. She fights, she begs and she pleads to Brittany but in the end she knows that it doesn't solve a damn thing. And that Brittany was never her's to begin with. And it just doesn't seem fair to Santana that Artie gets to have all the parts of Brittany that Santana can never have. Even as Brittany walks out her apartment door, Santana just looks at the door knowing that of all the broken pieces Artie will get to have of Brittany – at least she has her heart.
Or she thinks she does, anyway.
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Breakups that aren't really breakups are hard. Mostly, she just drinks and sings Maps some more. But after a while she gets fucking tired of Maps and of the fact that the person she really wants to sing Maps to is cuddled up with some other person who couldn't begin to compare to her. And suddenly, the line "Maps…wait, they don't love you like they love you." Makes so much more sense, and it shatters her heart into pieces again.
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Three months later and she's in a Karaoke spot with a friend. Or something. She doesn't exactly know what this girl Allie is to her…all she knows is she makes her stop thinking about Brittany for a minute and start thinking about all her other talents, like her hurricane tongue. She can laugh without it hurting now and that's a really big step in the right direction to her. And everything is going good and perfect until she hears the beginning keys of Maps. She tenses up and Allie notices but it's not until she fucking hears Brittany's voice that she just has to look at the stage. Brittany locks eyes with her and their sad, and she never sounds more broken than when she repeats "ma-aa-aa-aaaps, wait, they don't love you like I love you" over and over into the microphone.
By the end of the night, Allie's in a cab on her way back to her dorm by herself because she can't be bothered with their drama. And Brittany's in a bathroom stall slamming her hips down onto Santana's hand, while Santana is biting her neck hard enough to make more tears fall down her chocolate face. Santana's aware this can't be healthy…Brittany is kissing her like her breathing supply depends on her mouth and every time she sobs into Santana's neck Santana can't help but the frown and tell her that she did this to them so she doesn't fucking get to cry. After Brittany's come undone Santana steps away from her and spits a harsh, "You might want to fix your clothes before your boyfriend finds out your mistress just fucked you in a stall. I don't think he'd like that." And she jerks away right as Brittany racks another painful sob out and reaches out for her. Mostly because she cannot do this and Brittany deserves the feel exactly how she felt when Brittany walked out on her.
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Brittany won't stop calling.
And out of all the things that should have made Santana cry, it's the short conversation that follows when she answers the twenty-seventh call that week.
"Please just stop, Brittany. I can't move on with you calling me like this."
"What if I said I didn't want you to move on?"
Silence.
"I know you're still on the line. I'm in love you. And you're in love with me…and if you weren't such a coward then you could say-"
And then words tumble out without Santana's permission. "Don't tell me about being a coward. I'm not the one laying under my boyfriend fantasizing about a woman just because I don't want to come out of my heterosexual world. And besides that, I'd rather be a coward than be a manipulative bitch."
"…Is that what you think of me?" Brittany's voice is cracking and of fucking course she's crying. That's all she ever does.
"Don't call me again, Brittany. Not even if you two break up. You're not healthy. And I don't fucking need you."
Santana can hear her sobs clearly and distinct as her finger hovers over the disconnect button.
"But I need you-" Santana doesn't let her finish that statement, she just hangs up and buries herself under the covers in hopes that maybe all of her tears will put herself to sleep.
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