Just a tid bit of detail before you read:
Obviously this is a Dani/Santana pairing. If you don't like it, don't read it. It's as simple as that.
Oh and I don't own Glee, Fox and Ryan Murphy do. If I did, then it would have continuity.
Before I forget, this is after 5x03 when Kurt, Rachel and Santana return from being in Lima after Finn's death.
Naya's performance was just outstanding in the episode wasn't it?
Anyway, read, review and enjoy.
And hate mail in unacceptable, only constructive criticism.
RIP Cory Monteith, you're incredibly missed good sir.
In Your Arms, I'm Home.
It was a simple text. No hearts or x's and o's were added at end like she normally would have. Kurt signed the end of the message. I didn't understand why for the past five minutes I had been texting Kurt back and forth but then it rang and when his high-pitched voice spoke to me and not Santana's, I felt my heart drop to the pit of my stomach. Something was wrong. He began to tell me everything. From choking during her dedication song to having this heart wrenching meltdown in the choir room, she was so broken. My hands are shaking from nerves. He told me not to panic. I wanted to argue and say I already have but it was no use. He also told be they were letting her stay with him at his parents house. I should have asked to speak with her. She's not okay and I should be there. I have to be with her. Kurt tried to assure me that she would call when she felt calm enough. I'm not sure I can wait that long, to hear voice. I turn my head to the clock near the kitchen stove as it blinks 4:57AM. I'm on my sixth cup of coffee sitting in the silence of their loft. I haven't heard from her at all tonight and their flight back is in three hours. Will she even want to see me? Should I be here? Should I call her? Will she ever call me back? God, Dani stop it. She'll call when she's ready. I almost didn't catch the sound of my phone buzzing on the couch from being too lost in my worry. I scramble from the table to grab it, sliding my finger across the screen. "San?" There's a breathy exhale in her voice, soft sniffles following a shy hello. "Hi." The relief washing over my body is overwhelming, "I miss you." My response is automatic because I do miss her. It may be pushing the relationship too quickly but I do miss her. Santana and I have been dating for close to a month now. She's the most exquisite person I've met in all of New York. Her eyes, her voice, her body is stunning, and her persona just reeks talent and beauty. I'm in awe of her some days. I can hear a smile in her voice when she responds back to me, "I miss you too, so much." She pauses and sniffles again, "Are you still at the loft?" I exhale heavily, collapsing on the couch, "Yeah baby I'm still here." There's a deep silence before she begins to cry again, "Dani, I want to come home." My heart lurches as my eyes began to burn with tears. I should have gone with her, but I didn't know Finn. It didn't feel right. "I know baby, you'll be home soon." She'll be home soon. And I won't leave her side until she gets sick of me.
When the trio arrived at the loft four hours after I spoke to her, each of them looked exhausted. Rachel gave me a disheartening smile before retreating to her bedroom. I could only smile sympathetically toward her. Kurt dropped their bags by the door and immediately rushed to the kitchen. He started a kettle of tea, closed his eyes and breathed carefully. She was the last one in, shutting the heavy door behind her. When she finally faced me, dressed in jeans and my leather jacket, her eyes were red and dejected. I open my arms to her and she fell right in. Each sob that echoed in the loft was so incredibly humbling that all I could do was run my fingers through her hair and hold her tighter. It was faint, barely above a whisper but I heard it, "Please don't leave me." I shake my head against hers, squeezing her weak form closer into mine, "Never. Let's go lay down, huh?" She released me from her hulk grip walking to her bedroom. "Care for a cup?" I eye the tea and smirk waving the offer away, "I owe you guys more coffee after this weekend." Kurt chuckles to himself and then grabs a second cup from the cabinet above him. "For Santana." I nod and wait as he fills the tiny cup with boiling water and drops a lavender colored tea bag inside. I take the cup from him with a sad smile, comforting him by taking his hands in mine. "Kurt, I'm so sorry about your brother. If there's anything I can do, don't hesitate." He nods, his eyes glistening with tears, "Thank you so much, Dani. I can't tell you how nice it is to see a fresh face for once." I chuckle now because I swear on the gods above I am not that fresh faced. Plus I'm in Santana's cheering t-shirt and Batman sweats.
I found her curled up in a ball on her bed, eyes closed and inhaling softly. "Babe?" Her eyes fluttered open. The whites of her eyes were bloodshot and red. Grief causes this uncontrollable numbing agent in your skin. It's as if you're so high from the pain and guilt you can't feel anything but the dull ache of acceptance masked as denial. I experienced the same thing when my parents disowned me. All I could do was cry and scream and lull my body to ease the heartache. She smiled at me for the first time since arriving back from Lima. I smiled back, setting the tea on the bedside table. She opened her arms out for me, signaling I should crawl in next to her. I engulf her into a warm, loving embrace. Her head tucked right under my chin as she breathed unsteadily. The tiniest sniffle escaped from her throat. It sounded hoarse, strained from sobbing. How can I help her? What can I do to make this unfortunate tragedy disappear from her life? Looking at her face, so much pain was evident there. "Baby, what can do?" She disagrees with my question intertwining our hands together holding them close to her chest. "Just hold me, please." If that were what she wanted then I'd do it. She closed her eyes again, her breathing settled down as she fell asleep in my arms. It was at this point, even though we were so new to this relationship that I fell madly in love with her. Whatever she wanted, I wanted. Nothing else mattered but me keeping her as safe as possible from all the bullshit that seemed to be thrown at her. "It's nice to be home." She tiredly mumbled at me before dozing off again. I agreed with her smiling. A change of scenery always aids in the grieving process. "I bet. Nice to be back in the hustle of New York." She's quiet until what she says next cause my heart to soar, "You are my home." My emotions ran rampant at all the answers I could think of to say back. I wanted to tell her I loved her. Maybe it's just too soon. So I settled for the next best thing, "You're my home too."