A/N: So I got around to it. The first part did feel incomplete so this is going to have five chapters, or so. And this fic focuses on Santana and Brittany's lives, which doesn't necessarily mean they'd be endgame (though it does depend on how the episodes this season will turn out). As a warning though, this story contains the following pairings (the true natures of which you just have to read to find out): Brittany Pierce x Sam Evans, Santana Lopez x Quinn Fabray, mentions of Santana Lopez x Brittany Pierce, Quinn Fabray x Rachel Berry. Future pairings will be announced in the author's notes before each chapter. Thank you for all the favorites and follows (though reviews will make me happier). :)
A/N2: The category is 'angst' for a reason. Prepare your hearts.
Chapter 2: And what if you're already perfectly happy
"Hey."
Sam, who was busy chopping celery, looked up as his wife strode into the kitchen. He took in her casual appearance, her long blond hair tied up in a messy bun above her head, and wearing a baggy grey tee and her favourite yellow-duckies-in-blue shorts, and felt a surge of warmth in his chest. Even after nine years of being together, he still felt like the luckiest guy in the world whenever he looked at Brittany.
"Earth to Sam?" Brittany smiled, reflecting the dopey expression on his face. She made her way behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist.
Sam made a gurgling sound, replicating the sound of static, before replying in a cracked voice, "Space Cadet Evans… gzzt… having trouble… reporting… we're under attack, Cap'n… kzzbzshht… by the most beautiful creature in the galaxy… kshhht… over and out!"
Brittany's smile widened into a grin as she pressed a kiss on Sam's nape. "Only in the galaxy?"
Sam put down the knife before turning to face his wife. He took her face between his hands and gently rubbed his nose against hers. "I stand corrected, Cap'n. Most beautiful creature in the universe."
"You have to be held accountable for transmitting false information, Space Cadet Evans."
"Oh yeah?" He kissed her on the nose.
"No longer addressing your senior officer by rank? Another violation." Brittany fingered the strings tied together at the back, following their trail to the front and to the embroidered words 'Kiss the Cook.'
"My apologies, Cap'n. May I ask what the penalties for my violations are?"
"Hmmm…" Brittany hummed as she continued tracing the letters on his apron. She tilted her head so that her breath tickled against Sam's neck. Sam shivered as he felt her hot breath and he dropped his hands to his wife's waist, squeezing gently.
"I say, you…" Brittany's voice was now low and husky.
Sam swallowed. "Yes?"
"Take over diaper duty for the week."
Sam's eyes widened comically as his mouth dropped. Brittany laughed at his expression. After a second or two, Sam joined in, his laugh more sheepish. "Geez. Should have seen that coming."
"What, you expected something else?" Brittany waggled her eyebrows.
"Well yeah, like, y'know, a little something something later…" Sam pulled her against him until their bodies were flush against each other. He nipped Brittany's earlobe. "…in the bedroom."
"Oh honey, that won't be punishment. And you did commit some serious violations."
Sam laughed again and just revelled in the feeling of having this beautiful woman in his arms. Dinner could wait. Anything else could always wait. But this, well, even after all these years, he could never get enough of moments like these with Brittany.
After a few minutes of silence, Brittany spoke. "We saw Santana today."
Without meaning to, Sam's hold on her tightened. "Yeah?" he mumbled against her hair.
"Yeah. Rob and I were crossing the street when I saw her there by Old Pete's. We had coffee."
"How is she?"
Brittany bit her lip. "She's… doing okay." She pulled back a little to look at him in the eye. She smiled though Sam noted it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Rob likes her."
The corners of Sam's lips quirked up. "Well he should, considering how much we both liked her."
Brittany studied his face for a moment before asking in a softer voice. "Liked?" Sam shifted uneasily. "I still like her, Sam. I still love her. Don't you?"
"Britt…" Sam let out a sigh. Talking about Santana wasn't something he and Brittany did very often, especially after how they broke up in high school. He chose his words carefully as he spoke. "It's complicated. You know I still care about her but things have changed radically since then. I don't think she has completely accepted us being together." Then, as an afterthought, he added, "She wasn't there at our wedding."
Brittany hung her head. "I know."
"Hey." Sam bumped his forehead against the top of her head. "Let's talk about this after dinner, okay? Our little man has to fatten up."
Brittany lifted her face and forced a smile. "Yeah." She untangled her arms from around Sam's waist. She gave a soft kiss to his lips before fully letting go.
Sam watched her as she went over to the sink to wash her hands. A little prickling feeling in his heart made him turn away and return to chopping the celery.
xxx
The sight of Santana's blotchy face wasn't something that Quinn hadn't seen before. If she was going to be honest, she has had her lifetime's share of that sight, most of those instances concentrated during their years in college. But seeing her in that state never failed to make Quinn frown in concern.
"S?"
Santana had been standing in the doorway for five minutes before Quinn realized she was there. She was no longer crying but with the way her eyes and nose looked, all red and puffy, she might as well be. Quinn ran her hand through her short blond hair before walking towards her friend. She really should have expected this to happen.
She and Santana had planned their trip back to Lima together. They both had been trying to avoid going back to their hometown for different and yet, at the core, similar reasons. For Quinn, Lima would always be that place full of such bitter terrible memories, memories of her mistakes and heartbreaks, of pain and loneliness. Even when the people who had caused those pain had gone and left Lima, the memories remained rooted in every nook and crevice. Quinn didn't exactly have to go to the specific places, like McKinley High or the Lima General Hospital, to feel them; they just came unbidden the moment she stepped out of the airport.
Ironically, that one place where everything started to go downhill, where her earliest memories of fear were stored, was the place she could still perversely identify as home.
Her mother was almost never home, and Quinn couldn't really blame her. After her father was kicked out, Judy had more or less felt the fullness of the prison-like in this huge house, that feeling that Quinn had always felt, and what Judy had desperately yet, for a time, successfully ignored when Russell was still around. And that feeling was worsened when Quinn left for Yale. So since then, Judy had busied herself with secretarial work, and when she became too old for that, neighbourly visits, community clubs and Church meetings. Thus, when Quinn finally came back to Lima for a visit, she found herself alone most times. It had seemed like Judy could barely identify her as her daughter; distance did that, Quinn supposed: it made strangers out of people.
"Santana?" Quinn cautiously approached the still unmoving woman. That was the thing with Santana, you could never be too sure whether she would lash out and go all Lima Heights, or if she would just break down on the floor and cry. Even after all these years (which included a brief—and still a little awkward—spell of them dating), Quinn still couldn't get an accurate read of her friend.
"I s-saw them," Santana mumbled as she kept her head down. Quinn took this as a good sign and she wrapped one arm around the other woman's waist and led her to the living room. She made her sit down on the couch, herself crouched on the floor in front of her. Quinn placed Santana's hands on the woman's lap, squeezing them gently before asking (the obvious, Quinn rolled her eyes to herself), "Who?"
"Britt…" then after a sniffle, "and her k-kid…"
"Oh." Quinn had expected her to say Britt and Sam, but this was worse. Seeing a kid was always more painful, especially when that kid was the child of the one you loved with someone else. And though Quinn had a primary experience of being the one to give birth to a child, well, the pain was different. Thinking of Beth would always make her long for a lost chance, but thinking of the child of somebody she loved made her sad for a chance that she never had to begin with. Especially when the person one loved was a woman too.
Quinn waited patiently for her to continue. Fuck this shit, she never really had much practice on how to be a good friend. But what she did learn was that keeping silent (and being attentive) did wonders.
"I'm s-sorry—" and here, finally, Santana let out the sobs that she had been trying in vain to choke back. Her shoulders shook as Quinn ran her hands up and down Santana's arms. "I c-couldn't help but t-think… it c-could have been me, Q! T-That kid c-could have been mine as well!" Santana collapsed in Quinn's arms, holding her so tight it almost hurt. "I-if only I h-had stayed… if o-only I had known that s-she'd be staying back, I'd have f-flunked my senior year, too!" Quinn could now feel tears soaking up her shoulder. "Oh God, w-what wouldn't I d-do for her!"
Quinn hummed gently to soothe the other woman, all the while rubbing her back.
"The child was b-beautiful, Q… s-so so beautiful… h-he had her eyes and hair, and, God! the gentleness… H-he wrapped his little a-arms around me and for a m-moment it felt like he w-was mine… mine and B-Britt's…"
Quinn bit her lip as the sight of a brown-haired boy in the arms of the woman she loved flashed before her eyes. She more than understood what Santana was going through; she was feeling it again right this moment. And though she could feel herself tearing up, she fought against the feeling to focus on the woman breaking down in front of her.
And just if on cue, Santana asked in between sobs, "W-was it like this, Q? W-when y-you s-saw Ra—" Quinn crushed her lips against Santana's, effectively cutting her off. She couldn't bear to hear that name spoken out loud, not just yet, not in this situation when the memory of heartbreak was so vivid. Despite the violence, Quinn could feel Santana's breathing slow down and she then set to softening the kiss, taking the woman's bottom lip between hers then slowly changing the angle.
When she drew back, she saw that Santana's eyes were still sad but the familiar look of desperation told her enough of what she had to do next. She leaned forward again to place another kiss before standing up and urging the other woman to do the same. She led her toward her bedroom, to ease the pain the both of them were feeling in the only way they know how.
At the back of her head, Quinn thought, with a pang of a different kind of sadness, of how the two of them could only find comfort in this impersonal intimacy.
xxx
Sam took his time clearing up the table. Brittany had offered to do the dishes but Sam waved her off, saying that Robin had been craving for 'Mommy Time' since that morning. It was, after all, the first day Brittany had free for weeks ever since she had taken up Mike's offer to choreograph a dance for this huge production his company was setting up. Gigs came few and far between for Brittany and so whenever an opportunity presented itself, she more or less jumped on it. Not without guilt, though. Sam's heart warmed at the thought of Brittany's dedication to their family and how even when faced with a chance to dance again, Brittany always fretted over the possibility of losing time to be with their son.
Things haven't been exactly picture-perfect for them, what with him still working at Burt's shop (though he now held a managerial position) but they were all right. He still sang at the clubs and bars on weekends, and there were still invitations, mostly from his former Glee club friends, to perform elsewhere. Sure, they weren't what people would call well-off, but they were getting by. And with a lovely and caring wife and an adorable little boy, Sam could honestly say he was happy where he was.
Still, the conversation in the kitchen bothered him a little. It wasn't that he suspected that Brittany still felt something for Santana—well, she loved her, yes, but Sam knew enough about Brittany to realize that she didn't love her in the same way that she loved him. Brittany never loved people in exactly the same way, which was why there was no comparison and no jealousy when she told him she loved this or that person. Besides, in all the years they have been together, Brittany had shown nothing but happiness and contentment in being with him. To doubt her now would be like a huge crime against her goodness, her pure and innocent nature, something even worse than blasting the Planet Krypton or Joker's murder of Bruce Wayne's parents.
This prickly feeling was more or less rooted in the lack of closure that they had with their relationship with Santana. Even though Sam didn't exactly steal Brittany away from her, he still felt guilty with how things ended between them. It was just that both he and Brittany were in the same boat, with both of their loved ones so far away from them—Mercedes in LA and Santana in Louisville; they were both struggling with their respective long-distance relationships. But Brittany had it harder since she had always had difficulty in communicating her thoughts, which in turn, made it hard for her to socialize. Without Santana, that one person who really understood her, Brittany had felt so lost and alone, even with her Glee club-mates. And Sam being Sam, with his tendency to look out for his friends in that older brother way, saw all this. So one day, he talked to her about it, telling her that since they were the only blondes left, they had to stick together.
It just basically started from there.
Sam never intended for anything to come out of it other than being there for Brittany during these tough times. He really liked Santana, even when she was being all mean and insulting and unceremoniously dumping him for Karofsky (though he later understood it was because she was so scared of coming out) and teasing him for his lips (hell, she even made a song about them); he saw how beneath all this porcupine-y exterior, she was so fragile and, in a weird way, kind. She was like this anti-hero, like Nightwing, whose actions were so morally ambiguous at times. And when she made the effort to welcome him back in McKinley, going to the Glee club room even when she was technically not part of it anymore at that time, Sam thought of her as family.
But they were all too young to survive the changes that distance brought. He and Mercedes just drifted apart, and though he still thought it a shame, he could see that it was just inevitable. They parted in good terms, though, which was not what he could say for Brittany and Santana. It was obvious from the get-go that Santana never really wanted to leave Brittany, but that she was bound to disappoint more people if she stayed. And Brittany didn't want Santana to put her future on hold for her; she already had so much to deal with and guilt for getting in the way of her then-girlfriend's dream would have just brought her down even more. So Santana left. But as much as the distance was killing Brittany, it was also killing her though Sam suspected that Santana had a more structured way of falling apart. From what Brittany told him about Santana being so busy with schoolwork and cheerleading practice, he immediately understood that it was Santana's way of coping. But she couldn't keep at it for long, couldn't keep the loneliness and confusion from eating her up, and soon she had withdrawn inside her shell, cutting off communication with everybody, with Brittany, worst of all. And during those times, Brittany was at her most vulnerable. It was like when she had needed Santana the most, she was left alone. So the anger and resentment weren't unwarranted.
Brittany had begun to spiral out of control, not attending school, locking herself up, not speaking to anyone at all.
At first, Sam looked after Brittany, partially out of his protective older brother streak and partially out of this unspoken, and maybe one-sided pact to Santana. But getting to know Brittany was like reading a previously undiscovered but incredibly good comics series; it opened him to a new world. Learning her at times convoluted way of speaking was like learning Na'avi, and upon mastering her language, he saw how rich her view of the world was. She saw things in colors and dream-like images that were as much rooted to the reality as the 'normal' way of looking at the world through facts and figures was. And the way she made things look so simple—no, the way she revealed things in their simplicity, that was something he had never found in anyone else before.
One would have been incredibly blind and stupid not to fall in love with Brittany S. Pierce.
"Sam?"
Sam looked up from the dishes he had been washing for thirty minutes now. He should really pay attention to stuff like this or their water bill would skyrocket. He pushed back his bangs with the back of his hand. "Yeah, honey?"
Brittany leaned against the doorframe, her hand on her hip, a playful smirk on her face. "You sure are taking your sweet time washing the dishes. You trying to outdo Ms. Pillsbury?"
"It's Mrs. Schuester," Sam laughed. "It's been Mrs. Schuester for, like, eight years now!"
Brittany made a face. "Well for me, Mrs. Schuester is that crazy lady who gave us those drugs back in Sophomore year." A smile crossed her face. "I remember playing strip poker that night with Lord Tubbington. I ended up sleeping naked on the floor." The smile faded as she added, "I miss him so much."
"Britt…"
She shook her head, her smile reappearing. "S'okay, Sammy. Hurry up with those dishes! Rob wants to show off his dance moves! Though he's mostly doing your body roll." She narrowed her eyes at Sam. "Have you been giving him private lessons?"
"No no no!" Sam lifted his soapy hands in mock surrender. "I swear I haven't! I wouldn't dare infringe on your territory."
"Well you better not be." Brittany crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Or you get diaper duty for the next three months."
Sam stared in horror before Brittany let up and cracked a huge grin. "Just kidding. Come on!"
xxx
Quinn stared at the ceiling, watching the shadows cast by the orange light from the lamppost outside shift when a vehicle sped by. She used to be scared of shadows back when she was younger, and she would almost always cry herself to sleep, letting exhaustion take over so as to escape the terrible dark demons. When she grew older and the demons took on the more tangible shape of people around her, she stopped fearing the shadows and instead found a strange comfort in them. Reality had become more terrifying, after all.
She felt the body beside her shift. Her bed was still too small for two but it didn't really matter. They had always clung to each other tightly, like drowning people holding on to a raft.
"Q?" A voice raspy and still groggy from sleep called out.
Quinn found it befuddling and, at the same time, heartbreaking how Santana always called her name in bed even when she was just right beside her. Like how no physical contact can reassure her of somebody's presence. Quinn guessed it was the combination of childhood trauma of emotionally-absentee parents and of the one person she had loved wholeheartedly leaving her despite the truckload of memories of physical (and of course emotional) intimacy. Somehow it seemed to have imprinted on Santana's mind that physical presence could mean nothing.
"Q?" This time there was a slight tinge of fear. Quinn shifted to lie on her side and look at the woman beside her. Santana still had her eyes closed. Quinn also found it strange how Santana trusted her hearing more than her sight. After all, Santana just had to open her eyes to see that Quinn was indeed still beside her. But every time, she waited to hear her voice before opening her eyes.
"I'm here, S." She pressed a soft kiss between Santana's furrowed brows.
Santana finally opened her eyes, dark and deep like the shadows on the ceiling. Her features relaxed as she took in the sight of Quinn staring back at her.
They stayed lack that for a while, just looking at each other, when Quinn broke the silence. "Why don't you just open your eyes?"
Santana frowned in confusion before understanding dawned on her. She closed her eyes once again. "I… I guess, I just wanted to prepare myself… 'cause maybe, it would be different this time… I…" She shook her head. "I can't really explain it, Q."
Quinn studied her face for a moment before sighing. "Well, how are you feeling?"
"I'm sorry."
"Is that the answer or are you just apologizing?"
"Both."
Quinn ran her fingers through her hair as she huffed in exasperation. "We've done this so many times, San. Why are you still apologizing?"
"Just because it's become a habit doesn't mean I stop feeling something about this," Santana snapped back in a quiet voice.
A hoarse laugh escaped Quinn's lips.
"What?" Santana asked, irritated.
Instead of replying, Quinn leaned forward and pressed her lips gently against Santana's. "Aren't we a sad pair?" Quinn mumbled against her lips.
This should have been awkward and yet, what she and Santana discovered years back when Santana impulsively drove down to Boston and gotten herself drunk on whiskey while bawling over Brittany to Quinn and which soon had Quinn admitting what she really felt for Rachel and which after a month, culminated in the best (though Quinn didn't have much to compare it with, really) no-feelings sex she's ever had, this had become an adequate way of coping with their feelings of loss. This quickly became a semi-regular thing, lasting for eight years. Quinn supposed that this worked between them, because they were bound by such a close bond of friendship, and as such, they were able to bleed out their emotional pain to each other. And yet they were also both so hopelessly in love with somebody else, which nipped the bud of complications caused by romantic feelings.
But of course, Quinn knew enough that this was an unhealthy arrangement. But like a drug, they couldn't seem to quit it. They would have to fall out of love with their respective beloved first.
"Hey, Q?"
"Yeah?"
Santana hesitated for a few seconds before asking, "Why didn't we work out?"
Quinn bit back a sarcastic remark upon seeing that soft, vulnerable look in Santana's dark eyes. She shrugged her shoulders. "'Cause we just don't. We're not what each other want."
Santana bit her bottom lip, her brows scrunched up. "But… why do we still do this? Why can we still do this?"
Quinn remained silent. It wasn't like Santana didn't know. Of course she knew. Leave it to Santana Lopez to have a logical explanation for everything. But, then again, today was… different. Something that had rendered Santana so breakable. She seemed like a cat declawed, and that made Quinn's heart ached a little. "It's like a band-aid solution, S," she finally whispered back. "Two needy souls temporarily filling up each other's void."
A thoughtful look crossed Santana's face as she looked at Quinn. She raised her hand and began tracing the side of Quinn's face, from the ridge of her brow to the apple of her cheek and down to her jaw. "You deserve to be loved, Q… You know, if I could, I think I'd love you very well… Damaged as I am, I think I could do that much… You're beautiful, Q." And Quinn thought she heard her add in a barely audible voice, "So achingly beautiful."
A feeling of tenderness rushed through Quinn as she gave a ghost of a smile. "If I could, I'd love you very well, too. Come here."
Santana snuggled closer, resting her head on the crook of the other woman's elbow, her nose brushing against Quinn's chin. She let out a soft sigh. Quinn wrapped her other arm around Santana's shoulder, holding her close, wondering why God was so cruel as to have damaged them almost to the point of crippling, to deprive them both of the ones they loved, and worst of all, to deprive them of the chance to find true solace in each other who were so willing to give just that.
