Just.. go with it, ok? :) This is a one shot.. I might do a follow up one day.. but I have too many Brittana feelings right now and I need to get them out. This is future fic.. but not too far forward. Remember… they're always endgame in my heart! Don't ask me to keep writing on this one. It's complete. Do with it what you will! Bieeeeee!

Where Do You Go?

You know that place in your head where you go when you're alone? The one spot in your mind where you are completely honest with yourself? The one no one gets to see and can only guess about? What if where you are physically and where you are mentally are two different places? Does that mean your life is a lie?

A song filters through the radio in your room as you lay in bed. The window is open and you can hear the sounds of millions of people walking, driving, honking, yelling. It's the same thing every spring. New York City comes alive and you can feel the pulse of this beautiful false town come back to life, beating its way out of the long winter. You love the feel of spring, the way it seeps in with the breeze and seems to cleanse every inch of your apartment, your body, your mind. It's like a new beginning.

And it happens every year.

The breeze is cool, but your body is so warm. The weight of another person lying on your chest reminds you that you are not alone. That this isn't just your apartment , not just you're bedroom. It's both of yours.

You can feel her breath hitting your jaw, slow and steady, and it calms you. You never realize it until it happens, but this girl, this beautiful girl, can calm you at a moment's notice. She can grab your wrist at a bar when someone gives you a dirty look and you're about to pounce, and suddenly, that person doesn't matter anymore. You can brush them off because this girl has the power to just seep the anger from your body.

You roll slightly and bury your head in her hair, inhaling the sweet scent of her strawberry shampoo… it smells almost perfect. When you open your eyes, you see a head of dirty blonde hair, which is also, almost perfect. You can't help it. You can never stop yourself from wondering why this girl can't be perfect. She's so close, so so close, but, she doesn't quite take the cake.

"Tana…" she yawned out, catching your attention and making you think about how much you hate that nickname. "Why can't we just stay here all day?"

"We can…" you say lightly, kissing the top of her head and closing your eyes, hoping another round of naps will overtake you both. She nuzzles in closer to you and wraps her arms around your body, and you can't help but feel safe. She is safe. She is the safest thing you have ever encountered, not just in this city, but ever, and because of that safeness, she'll never be enough.

"Good…" she whispers again, placing a kiss to your cheek. She moves back a little and puts her head on your shoulder, quickly falling into that half awake-half asleep thing that she does when she tries to keep talking but she just mumbles instead.

"Can we turn off the radio?" She doesn't like music much either, something that you could never comprehend, because for you, music is your life. If you had it your way, you wouldn't own a T.V., just a stereo system that ran through your entire house so you can listen to it in every room. You'd be able to dance around your apartment and never miss a beat while the bass pumped through your body.

Sarah can't dance. She can sway to a slow song and bob her head to a beat, but when it comes to moving her hips and really getting down, she just can't. It's something that always seemed to get under your skin, just the tiniest bit, but it hasn't affected you in such a way to end the relationship.

I mean, why would you? It's a safe relationship, one that's going on a steady 3 years. You met your sophomore year of college here in New York, both of you were taking a class together and low and behold, you were both lesbians. She was pretty. That's what caught your eye. A tall leggy blonde with brown eyes so deep, you couldn't help but fall into them. She was sweet. She could laugh at herself if (and when, because she falls all the time) she tripped over her feet and she had a repertoire of witty comebacks that could put you to shame.

The first time you kissed her was the first time you'd ever kissed another girl besides…. You stop because you don't think about her. At least, you try not to. You haven't seen her since that day in your dorm room your freshman year when she showed up out of nowhere to end your relationship. And you still try to block that memory out as well.

I'm holding you back San.

You have to understand, we're too far away.

I can't be with you when you're here and I'm in Ohio, it's too much. I miss you too much.

You did understand, but that doesn't mean you liked it. You fought for her for months, calling and texting, e-mailing and trying to Skype, anything to get her back.

You begged her to move to New York with you, even though she was knee deep in dance classes at Ohio State. You flew home that summer and went to her house, hoping to talk some sense into her, only to find out she stayed on campus for summer classes so she could stay caught up. You realized then that it had been a solid 6 months without her and that maybe fairy tales were too good to be true.

So you went back to New York. You buried yourself in school work; working harder than ever to become a doctor. Because, even though performing was your passion, you had a great deal of respect for your father for what he had accomplished and you wanted the same. You had learned a lot about injuries from being on the Cheerios and decided to be an orthopedic surgeon, something you knew would take you years of hard work and luck to become.

But here you are, a freshman med student at the University of Columbia. You had done it. Now, you just had to get through the next few years of late night cram sessions and gallons of coffee, and you knew that Sarah would be there for you through it. She would stay up with you to help you study and she would wake you up in the morning before your exams with a kiss and breakfast.

As another song ended, you are brought back to reality by the voice in the stereo.

'And here's a flash back to 1998 with Edwin McCain and I'll Be…'

As the song started, you're entire mind swirled with thoughts. You couldn't believe that this was happening… you had been so good. So good for you. So good for Sarah. And right now, you were betraying you're entire relationship with her as your mind flooded with thoughts of another blonde.

..The strands in your eyes, that color them wonderful
..Stop me and steal my breath…
..And emeralds from mountains thrust toward the sky,
..Never revealing their depth…

..Tell me that we belong together,
..Dress it up with the trappings of love…
..I'll be captivated,
..I'll hang from your lips,
..Instead of the gallows of heartache that hang from above…

..I'll be your crying shoulder,
..I'll be love's suicide…
..I'll be better when I'm older,
..I'll be the greatest fan of your life…

"San?" You hear her say. You don't want to answer, you want to stay stuck in your thoughts, but she asks again and you can't help but break away from the trance the song has put you in. You didn't even notice that she had woken back up, and that bothers you more than you let on.

"Where did you just go?" She asks thoughtfully, leaning up on one arm to hover over you a little and look into your eyes. She knew you had travelled into your own mind and you know she can tell you were thinking really hard about something, but you're not sure if you can tell her. So instead, you try something else. You listen to the song and stare up at her gorgeous brown eyes and try to make the song work its magic like it did for you once before…

..And rain falls angry on the tin roof,
..As we lie awake in my bed…
..You're my survival, you're my living proof…
..My love is alive - not dead…

..Tell me that we belong together,
..Dress it up with the trappings of love…
..I'll be captivated,
..I'll hang from your lips,
..Instead of the gallows of heartache that hang from above…

Thoughts of Brittany invaded your mind before you had a chance to stop them. You remember her in a long blue, tight fitted gown, gracefully leading you around the dance floor while you followed suit. You can remember the way she dipped you at this part of the song and began singing it in your ear when she pulled you close again… the memory felt so real, you could almost hear her voice and feel her breath against your neck…

..I'll be your crying shoulder,
..I'll be love's suicide…
..I'll be better when I'm older,
..I'll be the greatest fan of your life…

"This was the last song I danced to at my Senior Prom." You hear yourself say. You don't even know why it came out. Maybe it was the way she was looking at you. Maybe it was the way you're heart started to race when you realized that this song held a special place in your heart, one that not even Sarah could penetrate.

"It was the last song and we were both so scared because we weren't sure if we'd get another moment like that… together." You say it and a lump forms in your throat; Sarah doesn't notice, for which you are grateful.

You start thinking back to that night even more now that it is being stirred up in your mind. You and Britt had been so worried about graduating that you didn't think of what would happen once you went off to college. You didn't think about how hard time and distance could be on the both of you. You can see Sarah's lips beginning to move again, so you try to break away from thoughts of B and listen to the blonde above you.

"Did you love him?" She asked as she brushes a piece of your hair behind your ear. You can't help but snort a little as the song continued, and for the first time, you tell Sarah the truth. She thought she was your first girlfriend… and you'd never bothered correcting her before now.

"Her." You say. "And yes, I loved her very much."

As her eyes got bigger, you slowly roll over and sit on the edge of your bed, overlooking the New York City sky line and running a hand through your hair. 'I loved her very much.' Was that accurate? To use the past tense like that? You're not sure…

..And I've dropped out,
..I've burned up,
..I've fought my way back from the dead…
..I've tuned in,
..Turned on,
..Remembered the things that you said…

"She was my best friend." Once again, you have no idea why you're telling her this, but you feel like it's something you need to get out. You need to tell someone, and who better than the person you love? Right? And once again, your use of the past tense made your heart hurt a little more…

"We started dating officially our senior year, but you can say we had been together most of our lives. We were each other's firsts for everything. And once I got my shit figured out and got pushed out of the closet by this guy we knew, I decided to tackle it head first. It was terrible at first, most of my family despised me, but, I had her and we were friends before we became a couple, and she got me through it."

You know Sarah's pissed because she isn't talking. She hasn't moved from her spot on the bed to sit next to you and tell you its ok for just now bringing this up. She hasn't responded to your revelation because you know she thinks you're a liar for keeping this from her, so instead of trying to make her understand, you just keep talking.

"We were going to go to prom together our junior year, but I backed out at the last minute. I wasn't ready and by the time senior year prom rolled around, we had been official for awhile. So, we did what couples did and we went to prom. And we danced to this song…"

You pointed at the radio as the last verse played through the speakers, once again carrying you to a time that seemed so much simpler… happier.

..I'll be your crying shoulder,
..I'll be love's suicide…
..I'll be better when I'm older,
..I'll be the greatest fan of your...
..I'll be your crying shoulder,
..I'll be love's suicide…
..I'll be better when I'm older,
..I'll be the greatest fan of your life…

..The greatest fan of your life…
..Greatest fan of your life…

You feel the bed dip on the opposite side and you can hear the sound of foot steps down the hall. You know Sarah's leaving. She's going to go on a run to help clear her head and she's going to come back and talk to you more. She's going to ask you all the questions that she can think of while on her 5-mile loop and you're going to answer them all truthfully.

You're going to tell her how you're heart felt like it had been broken in two the day Brittany's parents took her to Ohio State and left you standing in their driveway. You're going to tell her about the only visit you'd gotten from the blonde when she had surprised you for a long weekend. How you showed her the side of New York that she hadn't gotten to see during your Nationals' trip your junior year.

You're going to tell her about Cheerios.

And Glee club.

And how it was the best part of your day… how it was one of the best part's of your high school career.

And you're going to tell her about how it felt to lose that person that had made your life complete for all those years. How Brittany could put you back together with a single touch and how she had this look that could calm any storm. You're going to tell her how Brittany had stood hand and hand with you when you came out to your entire family and how she didn't bat an eyelash when your father told her to leave his house.

You're going to tell her how Britt had snuck back in that night just to lay in bed with you.

You know that Sarah deserves to know these things, and you're going to tell her.

But there was something else now clawing away at your mind and at the bottom of your heart, squeezing your lungs until you had no air to fill them. It almost felt like that feeling you get when you're at the bottom of a deep pool; that pressing feeling that if you don't surface soon, you might just black out.

You needed to be able to breathe again. And ever since that day your freshman year, you haven't felt like you have taken a full breath of air. Like every bit you have taken in has been sufficient, but not even close to enough. And in that moment you know what you have to do.

Sarah was going to be gone for awhile and you knew it was now or never. You're heart was pounding as you reached for your phone. You stared at the device in your hand as you lit up the screen and dragged your thumb across the pattern to unlock it. You almost stopped yourself from dialing when you saw the picture on your background. It was a picture of Sarah and you, the blonde smiling so big, it took up half the screen, and just to the bottom left you could see your lips pressed to her cheek.

You know that you could be happy with this girl. That she has taken care of you and dealt with all of your bullshit without much complaint, but after a simple trip down memory lane that you have blocked out for 4 years, you finally see how wrong you have been.

As your fingers start to dial, your actually a little surprised that you remember the number. But as you're dialing, you realize that it has been four years and there's a very large chance that this number doesn't belong to her anymore. I mean, you have changed your number like five times since you got to New York (Jew-fro became a very talented stalker) and her changing her number wouldn't be that crazy of an idea. If a stranger answers, you're not sure what you'll do. You don't know if you'll have the guts to try and track her down, and for all you know, she might not miss you as much as you suddenly miss her.

Once again, your fingers stop typing.

What if she doesn't want me?

Am I vain enough to believe that she is still in love with me?

And just as suddenly, your heart overrides your body and makes the decision for you…

There's only one way to find out.

As you punch the send button, your heart seems to end up in your throat and you can't stop the thousands of butterflies that have appeared in your stomach to stop fluttering their stupid little wings.

One Ring.

Two.

Three-

"-ello?"

The voice sounded familiar, but you weren't sure. And at this moment, you can't help but hesitate before slowly saying a name you haven't said in almost four years.

"Brittany?" You hold your breath. Your pulse is beating in your ears and it takes three deep breaths before it stops pounding. But even in all this madness, you can't help but wonder why it had taken you so long to do this.

You can hear someone on the other end of the phone, breathing just as deeply as you, and you can't help but ask again.

"Britt?"

They say nothing, but a sharp intake of air on the other end of the line gives you your answer.

You know it's her.

That one breath of air was all you needed to hear to know that the only person you have ever truly loved was on the other end of the line. That your soul mate was alive and breathing and hearing your voice for the first time since what seemed like forever. And that you were about to hear hers.

That one breath gave you the courage to speak, and after finding your voice, you grip the phone a little tighter, desperate to get back to the one person in your life that made you feel like you were living again.

"Brittany… " Another deep breath. Here we go. "It's me… it's Santana."

Not sure what to make of this. I'm just a ball of feelings and wanted to get some of them out! Hope you enjoyed! I love me some reviews! ;)

xoxo-Kat