(Taking another page from gleerant on tumblr's future!Sugar verse… said it before: Roch n JJ rock. And btw, if you read echoes of your work here (definitely ehefic on tumblr, JJ & Roch, probably OhThatsWanky & others), folks, we're in the Delta, and if you haven't published recently, I've been re-reading your fics. I live with this brain: it's all bound to find its way in-n-out sooner or later. Take it as homage, because it's all love, y'all.)
Pre-Dawn
It was about stupid o'clock when Santana fell back through the time machine. For once Charlie was asleep, and as always Brittany was awake, waiting.
She'd started from sleep suddenly about a minute and a half before, knowing.
Santana didn't get up right away. Her breath was labored. Brittany was there, with an ice pack. She rolled Santana over to look at her face. It was worse this time, much worse. She pulled her into her lap and supported her with her left arm and knee. Gently, she applied the ice pack to the worst of the bruises. Carefully, she raised Santana's shirt and got an eyeful of red and purple around her ribs. Santana groaned, her eyes fluttering open, unfocused.
Brittany's hand on her cheek guided Santana's gaze toward her eyes. Santana's eyes focused, softened, then teared up. Her entire body shuddered unpleasantly, her eyes closing again. She seemed to shrink somehow. Brittany's hand went to her solar plexus, intensifying the connection, bringing her back a little more. She wouldn't release her for an instant to wipe away her own tears.
Santana contracted more. Brittany's lips barely grazed her temple. Then she laid them there and stayed, forging a second connection. She had to come all the way back. Breathing became difficult, but it was dangerous to go there. Shifting her attention between herself and her other half, Brittany poured love into them both until her own breath, anyway, evened out. That locker took such a toll, more every time.
How many more would they be afforded?
Santana's hand covered Brittany's, making a third connection. Brittany could no longer focus this close to see whether her love's eyes were open, but she didn't risk pulling away. Come back, Love. Come back, Love, come back. She pressed her tongue between her lips and into Santana's temple. A few moments later she was rewarded with the sound of Santana taking in a deep breath.
How many (oh god) how many more times?
Black black black, she hummed, is the color of my true love's hair.
If it weren't so dire, she'd laugh. Oh. Oh dear, she did. Because lips, because tongue, because hands, knees, tangling fingers. She continued to hum through it, but she couldn't stop laughing softly at the same time. And at last Santana came back, back, all the way back, humming with her and eventually laughing softly herself.
They stayed that way for several minutes.
Santana gradually snaked her right arm between them and moved Brittany's head just far enough away that they could each focus on the other's eyes. Farther away now, but ever deeper. She shook her head, then looked away. Brittany didn't mean to, but she shook her head, too. Then she wrapped around Santana.
They couldn't keep doing this.
At that very moment, silently, Charlie's face emerged from the shadows in the doorway. No, they couldn't. They couldn't keep doing this.