pairing: brittany /santana

word count:about 3K

a/n: pretty much inspired by a poem (available on my tumblr through post/117584771649). and i've been feeling really emotional lately so this is what came to

fruition.

disclaimer: i don't own glee, the characters, or the poem mentioned above


Everyone knows Brittany S. Pierce as the joyful, ditzy cheerleader with the overactive imagination and borderline genius knowledge of bizarre topics like cat diseases. More often than not found with a smile on her face and a bounce in her step, no one would ever consider that she wasn't always so peppy.

"Why are you always so happy?" People would ask her in the hall.

She'd flash a broad smile and laugh as if the notion was incredulous and reply with a simple, "Why not?"

It baffled other students how one person could always be so damn happy. But most people didn't know what Brittany was like outside of school. Quinn and Santana were her best friends, they saw the way that after cheer practice her shoulders would slump and her feet would drag and that bright smile didn't quite reach her eyes. Most people would equate that to sluggishness, tired from the few hours of cheer practice. But Santana and Quinn knew that dancing, cheering and singing were things that Brittany loved, they energized her. The less-than pristine posture was not from physical exhaustion.

Quinn and Santana were the only friends that she continuously hung out with after school. Sleepovers and movie nights and doing homework together and just hanging out to shoot the breeze.

The Unholy Trinity was a tight knit group, a mixture of friendships that would all last forever.

But still, even her closest friends didn't see who she was in the dead of night. While Quinn snored quietly in her Queen sized bed (which she refused to share), and Santana grumbled under her breath in Spanish from where she slept on the couch under the window, Brittany lay wide awake on the floor staring at the ceiling, feeling like the zipper of the sleeping bag was the only thing holding her together.

Sometimes Santana would give her worried glances in the morning at the breakfast table while they chatted with the other Fabrays. It made Brittany's chest ache, to see that the Latina noticed the red rims of her eyes from crying silent tears. But nothing was ever said out loud. All dark, concerned eyes followed by soft assuring smiles, and gentle touches on the knee.

It wasn't until they were in high school that she and Santana became even closer. Oh, Brittany loved Quinn too of course, but Santana? Santana she could see herself falling in love with, especially if their relationship continued to progress down this intimate territory as it had been. She could certainly fall for the girl, even if Santana wouldn't love her back. But it seemed that was a constant theme, no one fell in love with the dumb, blonde cheerleader. They said they loved her, but that was so they could get Brittany underneath them, and she knew that they didn't love her, because they always ended up leaving.

That's why, in the solitude her bedroom's four walls provide, in the stillness of the wee morning hours she sits alone. And she cries. Because no one will love her after all this time, and it just gets so hard, to care about everyone with nothing in return, like the world is held on her shoulders, keeping her down. Her body shudders with each sob and she has to cover her mouth with both hands, to make sure she's not too loud to wake her family. Her head is on fire from crying so hard, but her back is cool, pressed against the windowpane.

It wasn't always like this. Sometimes she managed to sleep through the night, waking only when her alarm went off. But other times she would wake in the darkest hours, roll over and try to wrap her arms around someone who wasn't there for her. And it would flip a switch. She would feel her bones ache and then her chest would seize in a fit of sobs. Most of these nights ended up with her passed out from crying herself into exhaustion. Some nights she would shoot off a text to someone. That someone was Santana. She'd done it tonight, or this morning or whatever you wanted to call a Saturday spent doing nothing turned into crying your eyes out at 3:19 Sunday morning when you were due to church at 8:45.

The text had been sent at three, when she'd first woken up and hadn't been all that bad yet. But Santana hadn't answered. She rarely ever did. Who would answer texts at 2am that literally were just "Did you know that dolphins are just gay sharks?" or tonight's masterpiece of, "LT woke me up with cigar smoke. Did you share your stash?"

Brittany was rubbing her eyes and attempting to get her breathing less labored when the glass pane behind her shook. Startled, she gasped, falling from her perch. After a second of hesitation she lifted herself, moving slowly, until her head was just barely high enough to look out of the window. She could barely make out Santana's face, nose pressed to the fogging glass. "San!" She whisper-yelled, unlatching the lock and wrenching the window open. "What are you doing here?" she hurriedly whispered, wrestling with the screen until it slid all the way up and Santana could squeeze herself into the blonde's room.

"I got your text," Santana replied, in a similar hurried tone. "I jumped in the shower to really wake myself up then got over her as fast as I could. Are you okay?" Finally standing upright, she grabbed Brittany by the shoulders, critically looking over her friend.

Brittany felt a laugh tumble from her lips on its own accord, and she brushed away the other teen's hands. "I'm fine, San."

"Brittany.." It came out in a low, concerned tone, which had Brittany ducking her head and peeking at Santana through her eye lashes shyly. "I know you're not… I've noticed a pattern. Mornings after these late night texts you'd come to school with extra make up to hide the swelling of your cheeks and the redness of your eyes. Your one-liners have a bit more bite behind them. You're more tense at practice, even though you hit all the marks with incredible accuracy, so much so that it's scary." Santana's lips curved into a fond smile at that. But then she was taking her friend by the shoulders again, her hands warm against bare skin.

But while Santana was smiling, however small a smile, Brittany was still leaking tears. She could even feel her nose running, and sniffed, wiping once at her eyes, then under her nose, asking, "You noticed that?"

"Yeah, Britt," Santana whispered, squeezing so that Brittany would meet her eyes, "Of course I would, I'm your best friend." It was supposed to be comforting to the blonde, so when Brittany gave a guttural sob and fell into Santana's arms, the brunette was thoroughly confused. But despite her misunderstanding of the situation, she caught her bestie and lugged her towards the bed. Brittany was slim and tall but she was also jam packed with muscle, it was deceptive, and made her hard to carry as a deadweight but Santana was also built quite well from years of Cheer.

So she managed to drag Brittany's shaking body to the bed and set her there, but when she tried to pull away, hands clutched at her t-shirt and Brittany cried out a strangled, "No!" Which had Santana crawling into bed right beside her and hushing her gently, soothing her hands over the blonde's back and cooing into her ear.

Her crying got so bad at one point that she started to have difficulty breathing, and that was when Santana grabbed her by the cheeks and rested their foreheads together, speaking low and calmly, "Britt, you need to focus on your breathing. You're going to wig out if you don't get yourself under control. Okay?"

Brittany's eyes were almost comically wide, still overflowing with tears, the blue an iridescent, almost transparent shade. Santana stroked her thumbs over her pale cheeks and insisted, "Focus on me, copy my breathing, Brittany." She inhaled deeply and exhaled, exaggerating the motions over and over, until Brittany's half hiccups and hitching breath finally evened out.

Santana returned her hands to Brittany's back, rubbing tenderly as the blonde's sniffles died out. The Latina wiggled until Brittany was lying on top of her, between spread legs, cheek pressed to Santana's chest and arm wrapped around her waist. The brunette ran her fingers through her best friend's hair, knowing it soothed the dancer, and it worked, she could hear the teen's breathing getting even slower.

Santana recited dance moves in her mind to keep herself awake, she'd stay up all night if it meant making sure her best friend didn't wake up crying again. She was startled slightly by Brittany's soft voice, having thought she was asleep, "I love you."

"I love you too, Britt. Get some sleep," Santana murmured, rubbing her fingertips into the blonde's scalp.

Brittany sighed and leaned heavily against her best friend. The best friend she was falling in love with. The best friend who would never love her the way she needed it. She felt her eyes watering and clenched her jaw, tightening her arms around Santana and hugging herself as close as physically possible. "I love you," she repeated, voice wavering with unshed tears.

Santana's eyebrows pinched together and she nudged Brittany until the blonde was leaning up off her body somewhat, and avoiding her eyes. "Britt," she whispered, pressing two fingers under the girl's chin to get her to lift her head. "Oh, Britt." A sigh escaped her and she rubbed a thumb along a blotchy cheek, wiping away a stray tear, "Sweetheart, don't cry."

Brittany shook her head, making Santana's hand fall away, and lunged at the girl, burying her head into a tan neck and taking several shuddering breaths to calm herself. Santana frowned, sliding her hands up the blonde's shirt and rubbing circles on her bare back to try and sooth her. The motion seemed to only make Brittany's body tremble harder as she began to grind her teeth, refusing to cry again tonight. But there was only so much of the sweet gesture that Brittany could handle before she tore herself away to lean back and sit on her knees. Santana looked up at her with a confused expression when Brittany caught her wrists and halted tan hands from reaching out. "Stop," Brittany mumbled. "You just don't get it, do you?"

Santana could feel her face growing hot with embarrassment. What was it that she was missing? Brittany was staring at her with positively tortured eyes and a deep-set frown marring her gorgeous features. The Latina swallowed the lump in her throat, but when she managed to whisper, "Don't look at me like that," her tongue felt swollen around the words.

Brittany's jaw clenched and she tightened her grip around Santana's wrists, just slightly. "Why not?"

Santana looked away. She couldn't stand the sight of Brittany's tear stained face, with blotchy cheeks and a running nose, while the brilliant blue of her eyes were illuminated with tears. "Because," she firmly stated.

"Why, Santana?"

"Because I hate seeing you like this!" the brunette snapped, turning a heated stare onto her best friend. "I hate knowing that you stay up all hours of the night crying yourself into exhaustion and there's nothing I can do to help you because you refuse to talk about it with anyone!"

Brittany felt her breath get caught in her throat. Her eyes burned as tears escaped once more. Santana looked a bit sheepish for letting it all come out that way. As Brittany's grip on her wrists loosened, she slid her palms up Brittany's arms, until she could cradle her neck and the small of her back and guide the dancer to lay down against her chest again. Brittany did so without any reluctance, curling her larger frame into Santana's and releasing a shuddering breath when the Latina whispered, "I just want you to talk to me, Britt."

So much time passed that Santana assumed Brittany fell asleep through the back rubs and hair caressing. But then in the smallest voice Santana had ever heard from her, Brittany began to speak. "I don't think anyone will ever fall in love with me.." There are a few shaky exhales against Santana's neck while the Latina is shocked into silence, before Brittany continues to speak. "I have all this love in my heart and I give it out to everyone I get close with, but all everyone else does is take without giving back. All those boys I dated, none of them ever loved me, yeah they liked me I guess, but they really just wanted my body. And it was fun, I won't deny that, but after a while it got really tiresome and I just did things because it was expected of me. But so far no one's ever treated me how I want to be treated and I think I deserve it, but without anyone giving it to me I wonder, do I really deserve to be loved? Or am I just not made for it, after-all? Like, does anyone even like me at all? Or does everyone just enjoy the bubbly blonde cheerleader that's too dumb to function? You and Quinn are the only ones who like me for who I am but even then…" She trailed off with a sigh. "I mean like, what's the point in any of this? If no one will like me when I'm sad, is it better just to be sad and alone, or pretend to be happy around people who would leave if they knew the truth?" Brittany could feel the way Santana's arms tightened around her, and she tilted her head, brushing her nose alongside a tan neck before sighing again. "Never mind," she mumbled, "It doesn't even matter, because no one will love me like I want them to. Non one cares enough."

"Brittany.." The sound of her name is so full of emotion that Brittany has to pull away from Santana's neck to see her face. There are tears in those dark eyes and Santana's eyebrows are pinched together. She reaches out and cups Brittany's cheeks, pulling until their foreheads are pressed together. "You are loved," she insists, staring intensely into Brittany's eyes. And just as the blonde begins to squirm to get out of the grasp, Santana tilts her head and presses their lips together.

It's soft at first, with Santana barely applying any pressure. And then Brittany stops. She gives up trying to gain distance, and allows herself to melt against the teenager she's in love with. Santana exhales through her nose, letting her fingers of one hand slide into Brittany's hair as she applies more force behind her kiss.

Brittany is a deadweight against the other girl, hands loosely holding onto her shirt as she allows herself to be kissed. Santana opens her mouth enough to flick her tongue briefly along the seam of Brittany's lips. She opens with a soft sigh, hands tightening to fists in the fabric of the shirt as she parts her lips, allowing entry. Santana closes her eyes tighter and tilts her head, sliding her tongue slowly. She tastes the ridges of Brittany's teeth, pausing to dip into the gap behind her left canine that Brittany is sometimes self-conscious of, making the blonde to shiver. Santana curls her tongue over and under Brittany's, who is jerky and awkward in her own responsive movements, fingers clenching tighter. Santana's thumb brushed along Brittany's cheek and she retreats slightly, dragging along the roof of Brittany's mouth before separating their mouths. But only long enough to take a deep inhale before kissing Brittany again.

Santana kisses her deeply and slowly. So intensely that it has the blonde's head spinning. And the next time Santana pulls back, Brittany is left panting and trembling with emotion as a few tears escape her fluttering eyes. "W-What was.. that for?" she manages to stutter out.

A shy smile and thumbs swiping away tears. "Assurance." Santana presses several kisses to red cheeks and a damp forehead, lingering there to whisper, "I didn't realize I had to say it out loud, I thought you were already aware, since you're very good at knowing what I'm thinking before I even do."

Brittany's small laugh is breathless as she ducks her head, tucking it under Santana's chin. Tan fingers massage Brittany's scalp as Santana goes on, "I've loved you for the longest time Brittany…"

"…You never said anything… I thought you didn't want to love me.. That you just wanted my body like everyone else, and that you didn't care enough to actually-"

Santana cut her off by tilting Brittany's head up and gently molding their lips together for another slow kiss. "No more self-deprecating thoughts Britt," she whispered when they pulled apart. She pressed a soft peck to her lips, then the tip of her red nose. Santana met those opalescent eyes steadily and murmured, "I love you. Wholly and truly."

Brittany's lips pulled into a watery smile and she whispered, "I love you too San," wrapping her arms around her best friend and hugging her tightly.

Santana hugged her back for a long moment, stroking her hair and humming softly, before yawning, "Let's get to bed okay? Maybe I won't sneak out before you have to get ready for church. I'll just snooze in your bed and I can get brunch started before you get back.."

"That sounds fantastic," Brittany whispered with a grin hidden against Santana's neck.

"Okay cool," the Latina nodded, rolling over so that they were both on their sides. "Little spoon?" she murmured, scooting down and getting comfortable.

"Please," the blonde requested, turning onto her other side and curling into a ball as Santana's chest molded against her back.

"I love you, Brittany," Santana told her, placing a gentle kiss behind her ear.

"I love you too, Santana," Brittany replied through a smile, taking one of Santana's hands with both of hers and tugging it to her chest.

So maybe she'd wake-up with a raging headache because of all the crying and only a few hours of sleep. But at least Santana would still be there in the morning, probably awkwardly sprawled across the bed, cocooned in a mess of blankets Brittany had been robbed of.

But at least she'd still be there.


so this was pretty angsty, i'm sorry..but i hope the ending made up for it. so yeah. let me know what you thought in a review.

also, i'll try to work on adding a chapter to one of my other stories, but i can't decide on which one so if there's something you really wanna see continued just let me know