She goes back to Columbus first and, foolishly, tells Sam what she plans to do.
"No, Britt..." he says hurriedly. "No, you're not going."
She stops packing her bag and turns to him. Her eyes narrow in confusion. "Excuse me?"
"You're not going," Sam says, soft yet firm. "I'm not letting you do this."
Brittany laughs mirthlessly and puts down the shirts in her hand down onto the bed. She rubs at her forehead a little before shaking her head at him."That isn't your choice."
Sam scoffs. "Yeah, but I'm your best friend and I'm not going to let you do something so reckless. So stupid."
Face hardening, she takes a step forward. She still fucking hates that word.
"You think I'm being stupid?" she asks, her voice trying and failing to keep level. "Stupid was failing high school the first time around and ruining my relationship with the only person I have ever loved. Stupid was me never running after her and telling her that I didn't hate her, that I will never hate her, and that I was just upset but I'd forgive her eventually. Stupid was me failing, every day for six fucking years, to find her and tell her that I'm where she should be, that we were supposed to be together forever, Sam. Forever."
He shakes his head at her words, refusing to believe them.
"She ruined that, Britt," he says. "She broke your heart. She left you. She left both of us and she didn't come back. This isn't how it's supposed to go. This isn't how it's supposed to work."
Brittany shoves him away from her as he steps closer. "Oh, and how was it supposed to work, Sam?" she spits. "Tell me because I'm obviously too stupid to know."
"She was supposed to run back to YOU!" he yells suddenly and Brittany steps back, shocked, eyes growing wide as he points right at Brittany's chest. "She was supposed to realize how much of a stupid fucking idiot she's been and remember that you are the best person she or I or anyone else will ever know. She was supposed to come back to you... running. If you go back to her, if you chase her, you're not teaching her anything."
Her entire body softens at his words and she wraps him up in a hug without another word. They hold each other for a moment before she rubs her hands through is messy blond hair.
"This isn't about lessons, Sam..." she whispers and then come the tears. She buries her nose into his shoulder as they stream down her cheeks. "I've learned everything I need to know and I can't live without her anymore... she makes me happy." She tries to laugh at herself but it doesn't work. "This is my chance, Sammy."
Sam pulls away and shakes his head. His hands cup her cheeks and stroke away her tears. "If she hurts you..."
Brittany hugs him again but holds him tight.
"I know," she whispers. "I know."
/
She hates coming back to Lima because everything reminds her of Santana.
This isn't the place she's from, it isn't where her parents live, it isn't home. Everywhere is a place where Santana has been and that's all Lima is to Brittany. It's all it will ever be.
The gay station on the corner reminds her of getting sodas on Friday afternoons after Cheerios practice. The movie theater reminds her of being fourteen and sneaking into movies they shouldn't have. Breadstix reminds her of that day, almost seven years ago to the day, when Santana finally gave them the label Brittany wanted and held her hand under a napkin. The Lima Bean reminds her of Sunday afternoons, snuggled up on the comfy couches at the back with their friends.
Even the hospital isn't really a hospital. It's the place where she could find Santana when she couldn't find her anywhere else.
That seems kind of fitting right now.
/
Maribel is talking to the nurses when she arrives. She has her back to Brittany and all the nurses look over her shoulder when Brittany slows to a stop behind her. It makes Maribel spin around quickly to find her and her face lights up and falls just as quickly when she sees who they're looking at.
"You're here," she whispers and then Brittany doesn't know how you can miss the arms of someone you're not actually sure has ever hugged you, but she does. "You're here," Maribel mumbles. "Thank god, you came."
The whole thing just makes Brittany a little breathless. She can't really think of anything to say.
Maribel must notice when she pulls back because fondness seeps quickly into her features, despite their surroundings. She smiles and her expression reminds Brittany so much of Santana that she nearly has to look away.
"You got more beautiful," she whispers as her hand cups Brittany's cheek. Her face falls. "Maybe that'll make her see sense."
Brittany freezes slowly. She reaches up to take Maribel's hand, squeezing it in her own, if only to steady herself.
"She's here," she asks thickly. Her voice, barely a breath, shakes just as uncontrollably as the rest of her body. "She's really here."
Maribel sighs and reaches with the other hand to trace what must be the hopelessness in Brittany's face.
"I'll take you to her," Maribel says and Brittany's heart beats all out of order, like it knows what's about to happen and it's trying to remember how to work.
/
"Shall I..." Maribel says when they round the corner to the final hallway. Brittany pulls back and shakes her head. Maribel stops and looks at her as they get closer to the room, her mother's name written clearly on the front.
Brittany laughs awkwardly. "I don't want to intrude," she says and then realizes she has no idea what she's going to say. "I have no idea what I'm doing here."
Maribel must notice something because she just nods. "Okay," she whispers. "Stay here. I just need to go and talk to the nurses."
She gives Brittany another hug, drops a kiss to her cheek, and leaves slowly.
It takes her a while but, eventually, Brittany creeps up to the room slowly, like she might die if this happens too fast, that her heart might stop unless she's careful.
There's a huge window that looks into the room and the blind pulled down but open when she gets there. It makes her feel safer and she steps a little closer to peer between two of the thin pieces of metal. Everything still moves to fast and she gasps as quietly as she can when the first thing she sees is dark, unruly hair.
Her heart instantly begins to beat faster. She hears it thud-thud-thudding in her ears, warm and hot like her blood.
It's strange because, even now, she can still remember how Santana's hair feels, tangled in her fingers, messy from sleep. She can still remember how stroking it would instantly calm Santana, how it would make her feel better when she was sad. She wonders, for what feels like the millionth time, who gets to do that for her now. Who did Santana find to make her feel better?
Just as quickly, she wonders what it would take for her to be that person again? She doesn't think that there's anything she wouldn't do in a second.
She shakes those thoughts away quickly and concentrates on looking instead.
She takes in how Santana sits there by the bed, stock still and silent. She wears her overalls and a t-shirt and Brittany assumes that the sweatshirt thrown over the back of the plastic hospital chair she sits on is hers. Her face is turned away, looking towards the woman on the bed, but Brittany prefers that right now.
It's enough for now because the soft lines of her are enough to make Brittany remember that she isn't as scary as this moment feels, but safe. They make her feel brave enough to move just a little closer and see something else. It feels like she's piecing her back together and Brittany wants to see more.
She shifts her feet just that little bit more until she sees the frames of Santana's glasses and the apple of her left cheek. It's pale but a little red with dry tear tracks. Brittany's breath catches because it still looks like the warmest, softest, most perfect skin she'll ever touch.
When Santana lifts her hand to brush her hand across it, Brittany gasps in sudden disbelief. Everything suddenly feels incredibly real and she's not sure what she thought was happening, but she's overcome with the welcome revelation that she's here. Santana's actually here.
Her reaction is instinctive. Her hand reaches up to press against the window, desperate to touch Santana, to break down one more sensory barrier and make sure that she's there. She doesn't even think about it because reaching to touch Santana has never been something she's done.
But she wishes that, this time, it was, because the second her hand hits the glass, it collides with the weight of her hand and the rings on her fingers. The sound is louder than she expected.
It makes Santana jump and Brittany jumps too but she doesn't jump back, hoping, wishing, wanting, for just a little more time. Her eyes go wide and she freezes until Santana turns around to find the source of the noise.
It's then that Brittany darts back, desperate to hide, to remain secret for just a little while longer, but it's too late. Santana sees her like her eyes were made to find her.
For a split second, their gaze meets and, then, Santana's jumping up and spinning around, knocking over her chair in the process with an unruly clatter of sound.
Her face falls and she stares at Brittany through the window, eyes almost as wide as her mouth as she takes her in. Brittany can tell that her whole body is tense. Her worrisome hands wring together at her stomach, nervous and unsure. She looks as terrified as a baby rabbit, jumpy and nervous. She barely takes a second to make sure she hasn't affected the unmoving woman in the bed, before her eyes snap back to Brittany.
With shaky hands, she reaches out to pull on the cord of the blind. It raises slowly and Brittany just looks as Santana stares back at her, her eyes growing wider by the second. Her eyes blink rapidly and then slow when Brittany doesn't disappear. It makes Brittany's heart ache when her hand reaches up, just as hers had done, to reach for her.
Brittany takes that as her cue to walk inside and she watches as Santana's eyes follow her the whole way, her body moving backwards the closer Brittany gets until she finds herself cornered. Her palms hit the walls like it might give way if she presses hard against them and, in the end, Brittany stops at the doorway, worried that Santana might jump out of the window if she moves any closer.
It takes a while, five minutes, maybe, of Santana just staring at her and taking her in, before she says anything.
"What—what are you doing here?" she breathes, so timid and un-Santana-like that it's strange.
But then, a lot of things are strange, Brittany thinks. She thought she would be a lot less calm than she thought she would be if this moment ever happened. She thought she'd be sobbing by now. She thought she'd be a crying, weeping wreck but she isn't. She finally feels calm. She feels like this is where she should be and that makes her okay.
All she really feels is the need to explain.
She thumbs behind her to the hallway. "Your mom called me."
Santana flinches at the words.
"Why?" she breathes.
Brittany looks at her and the answer is easy.
She shrugs her shoulders.
"Because I've been waiting for you to come home."
A second later, Santana bursts into tears.
/
They both sit on adjacent sides of the room. Brittany copies Santana's position to make her feel safer, and sits on the floor with her knees tucked up to her chest. Santana doesn't look at her but Brittany can't not.
"Are you okay now?" She asks because it was weird not being able to hug it better. Santana nods quickly and it's strange how much she looks like a chastised child, like she's waiting for punishment.
Brittany almost laughs when she realizes she is, that Santana still thinks she's mad at her.
"It's been a long time," she comments, like that might stop Santana and be enough to explain. It isn't. "How are you?"
Santana looks up quickly. "Fine," she lies in that same breathless and timid voice from before.
Brittany shakes her head and plays with some lint on her jeans. "I'm not here to argue with you, Santana."
"Then why are you here?" Santana asks like it's a trick or set-up.
Brittany shrugs and smiles a little. "Like I said," she says. "I was waiting for you to come home."
"Why?"
Brittany laughs and it's probably too loud for a hospital. Santana looks at her and Brittany shakes her head, her smile fond.
"Because I missed you, Santana."
Brown eyes widen and look away. Brittany watches carefully, awed, as Santana pushes her glasses up onto the top of her head and wipes her tears away. Her forehead falls to rest against her knees and a moment later, her shoulders shake with quiet little sobs.
They stay like that until nurses and doctors and Maribel return to the room. Maribel looks between them, and Brittany thinks that she might turn around and leave but, before she can, the nurse turns to Brittany and tells her that it's family only.
Those words seem to make Santana cry harder and Maribel touches Brittany's hand knowingly when Brittany gets up and tries to move closer to her.
"I'll call you later," she says softly. "Don't go too far."
Brittany nods, eyes never leaving Santana. "I'll wait outside," she says as she leaves the room.
Before she leaves, she sees Maribel leaning down and Santana reaching for her like she used to when she was little and she'd scraped her knee. Her arms wrap around her mother's shoulders and it takes Brittany's breath away because that's Santana—that's her Santana—and she's still here.
/
It's October and it's freezing but she spends all afternoon sat on a bench outside the hospital waiting for them to leave.
It's late before they do but she steps towards them the minute she sees them, her smile tentative.
Santana follows behind Maribel with her head down, still as nervous as ever.
"Where are you staying?" Maribel asks softly.
Brittany shrugs. "I didn't tell my parents I was coming yet, so I guess probably a hotel or something."
"Don't be silly..." Maribel says. "Come sleep in the guest room."
Brittany doesn't miss how Santana's head snaps up or her eyes go wide. Her mouth opens and closes like she wants to say something, so Brittany saves her.
"No, no..." she whispers with a smile to Santana. "I'll stay at a hotel."
/
She's up early and at the hospital by eight am the next morning, not wanting to miss them heading in. She holds coffee and Maribel spots her first, dragging Santana over to her quickly.
"Here..." Brittany says quietly. "One black coffee and one latte with a shot..." She gives Maribel Santana's latte to give to her first and reaches into the pocket of her coat as she gives the black coffee to her after. "And I got Sweet-n-Low and some sugar."
She hands the Sweet-n-Low to Maribel and offers the sugar to Santana. She watches how Santana eyes her hands the whole way, like she might reach out and grab her if she moves to fast, and how she jumps back in shock when Brittany doesn't.
"Thank you," Santana whispers softly.
Brittany smiles. "You're welcome."
/
She can't be in the room with them but she's allowed in the cafeteria.
Maribel tells her that it's silly to stick around all day, that she should go visit her parents but Brittany can't find it in her to go see them. She doesn't know how she would explain. She doesn't think she should have to, so she tells Maribel that she'll just stick around.
She's glad that she brought some work with her to finish, but she kind of just sits there with it surrounding her on a table in the corner, unable to concentrate with the knowledge of Santana being so close circling her head.
All she can think about is how her heart feels like it's actually working again, how she slept better and worse than she's done in forever. She's thinking about Santana so much that, when she arrives in front of her, she almost doesn't realize.
"My mom sent me down here," she says when Brittany's finally jumped and caught up. Her voice is almost apologetic, like she would never have bothered Brittany on her own without being instructed to. "She said to tell you that they're taking Abuela for more tests at two, so she'll be down to see you then."
She turns to leave slowly and Brittany jumps, calling after her. Santana turns back quickly, her face to the floor.
"W-will you come too?" Brittany asks.
Santana looks up and then nods quickly.
She leaves just as before Brittany can take it back and Brittany smiles, out of control.
/
"What is all this?" Maribel asks, sipping crappy hospital coffee and eating a cafeteria tuna sandwich.
Brittany looks down at all the papers and contact prints. She plays with the paint marker in her hand and turns the contact print around for Maribel to see.
"Oh..." she says. "It's work stuff."
Maribel peers at the rows of photographs in front of her. "You're a photographer?" she asks as Santana's head quirks up in interest. "Last time we talked you were majoring in journalism."
"I did," she says, not mentioning that the last time they talked was when Brittany was in her Sophomore year. "I minored in photography. I was going to be a photojournalist but I kind of just... fell into this. I used to do like... weddings and stuff. It paid well... but then I had an exhibition and this agency put me on its books and I kind of do a little of everything. Mostly stuff for magazines, really. Photoshoots for bands and models and stuff. This is actually for this guy I worked with last week. His name is Arnie Fink. He's a singer. The pictures were for his debut album."
Maribel's about to comment when—
"You're the one doing Arnie's cover photos?"
Brittany's head jerks up to look at Santana and she pauses before taking back the contact from Maribel before handing it to Santana with a nod. Santana takes it and barely looks at them before looking back up at her.
Santana smiles a little. "I—I produced his album."
Something nags in Brittany's chest. It feels like the universe or fate or something.
"Small world," she whispers.
Santana swallows.
/
As the days go on, Brittany's role gets bigger.
She stays in Lima and sleeps in a crappy motel. She cancels work with famous artists to take coffee and sandwiches to Santana and Maribel in a hospital at all hour of the day. Sam calls her yelling and her agent gets mad at her but she doesn't care. This is more important.
She wouldn't want to miss this, no matter how sad everything is.
Brittany knows how close Santana was to her grandmother.
She remembers the night Santana's grandmother asked her to leave. Santana cried herself to sleep that night, buried in Brittany's arms. Brittany had promised her that her grandmother would see sense one day but now she feels like a liar because she knows that'll never be true...
Sure, they're sitting in the same room again but her grandmother's stroke was so severe that the doctors don't think she'll ever be able to recover. She's conscious but she can't speak. She doesn't know where she is or that Santana's there with her, or even who she is. It's too late and Brittany can see the strain in Santana's face that knowing that brings.
"Can I get you anything?" she asks one day when they're finally alone in the room with her abuela.
Santana looks up and smiles, shakes her head. "I'm good."
Brittany's hand moves without thinking after that. She presses it to the back of Santana's head and smooths it down over her curls until she feels Santana sigh and sees her eyes flutter closed. Brittany's hand pulls away quickly but it's too late.
"Sorry," she mutters, embarrassed.
Santana shakes her head and when she speaks her voice is strained. "It's fine," she says.
But something tells Brittany that it's more than fine.
It makes her smile.
/
They sort of avoid each other for a few days after that. They kind of just co-exist in this weird little normality that they've made for themselves since her grandmother was admitted to hospital. She keeps bringing them coffee and sandwiches, but avoids being left alone in a room with Santana and doesn't really acknowledge her. It isn't fair to do this when her grandmother's sick.
Things go on like that until Maribel calls her in the middle of the night, asking her if she'll come pick them up and take them to the hospital. Her voice is rushed but she says something about another stroke and that she doesn't trust herself to get them there safe while she's panicking this much.
All she has to do is to mention how she would ask Santana but she's a mess and Brittany's there.
She doesn't even change out of her pajamas, just pulls on her coat and jumps in the car. She rushes them to the hospital and drops them off at the entrance before she goes to find somewhere to park.
She finds them fifteen minutes later, talking to a doctor. His face is stricken and she hears mentions of surgery and bleeding and stays back. This is for family, not her.
But she stays there with them, anyway and watches over them, bundled up in their coats. Brittany sits away from them and watches, jumps when they jump and fetches them coffee.
It's not until seven am that the doctor comes back. He's scrubbed up and he doesn't look any better than he did before. He pauses but then shakes his head woefully and Brittany doesn't know what to do, not when Maribel's hands cover her face or when Santana collapses into sobs.
The doctor leaves and Maribel tries to hold Santana but she won't let her. She pushes her away as her sobs grow louder and it almost hurts to listen to them. They get deeper and more guttural and Brittany feels like all Santana's sadness is coming up at once as they choke from her. She can't stand it. Maribel can't stand it. It makes her cry harder because Santana's so upset.
Brittany steps forward when Maribel reaches for her. She wants to tell her that she's sorry but she can't quite manage to find the words when Santana's crying so loud. Maribel grips at her hand to grab her attention and she has to struggle to hear.
"You try," she begs. "Please, you have to try, before she does something stupid."
Brittany nods and it takes her a moment before she approaches Santana and lets her hand fall to her shoulder. Santana shrugs her away but Brittany knows exactly how to handle her. She spent years learning how to love Santana and make her feel safe.
She pulls at her and grabs at her hands, holds them away from her body as she pulls Santana into her. She tugs until Santana's body presses against hers, until she can feel the whole warmth of her body against the whole of her own. It takes her breath away but she pushes past it, even as her jaw trembles with the need to whimper. She doesn't think about consequences as she does what she has to do, just what she know will happen. She presses her cheek to Santana's and chokes back a sobs at how soft it really still is as she wraps Santana's arms around her and urges her to hold tight.
"I got you, I got you," she whispers, her hand reaching to stroke the back of her head. "Hold on. I got you... I'm here."
The words work and Santana clings to her, presses into her and it shouldn't feel so wonderful but it does.
/
She moves out of the hotel later that afternoon because, with Mr. Lopez still having to work, there's no one to look after them. The rest of their family won't get here for another couple of days and they shouldn't have to worry about anything. They shouldn't have to concern themselves with anything but how they feel.
Maribel tells her she can sleep in the guest room, but Brittany knows that she won't.
Well, she could try, but not really. It feels weird.
Like sleeping in her kitchen or on the roof. It feels wrong to sleep anywhere but the one room she knows she can.
She settles on the couch and snuggles up with a blanket. It doesn't matter if she's uncomfortable or if she doesn't sleep. She likes three am infomercials.
That's until she hears crying coming from upstairs.
Familiar crying.
She doesn't pause before she gets up.
/
Santana stops when she taps on her bedroom door and Brittany can tell she's trying to pretend she's asleep.
"I know you're awake," she whispers and then opens the door.
Santana turns over onto her back and looks at the ceiling. It kills Brittany a little that she still only sleeps on one side. Seeing Santana's bed reminds her of how much she's missed this room.
She wanders in and lies down beside Santana without thinking.
Santana doesn't react, just lays there and keeps staring at her ceiling.
Brittany doesn't do anything. She just mirrors her and stares up at the ceiling too.
"Do you want to talk?" she asks eventually. Santana shakes her head. Brittany gulps. "Is there something specific you're upset about or is it just the whole... thing?"
There's silence for a long time, just breathing, and then a sob breaks through the air. Brittany turns her head and watches as Santana sobs, her entire body shaking as her face screws up in pain and regret. She doesn't know what she wants to do more, hold her or watch her.
She doesn't think she can hold her. She's not sure that she'll ever let go, so she watches her instead, wondering how she's always so annoyingly beautiful.
She watches until Santana slows down, until she's just silent and sniffing away the sobs. She watches her until she can't anymore and that's when Santana chooses to speak.
"Happy anniversary," Santana whispers brokenly and Brittany's eyes snap to her.
Tears stream down her cheeks and Brittany frowns in confusion until Brittany realizes what Santana's staring at.
For as long as Brittany can remember, she's always had one of those weird alarm clocks that beams the time up on the ceiling with a laser. They're for people who always have to know the time, even when they wake up in the middle of the night, and that's what she's looking at: the projection of the time and date. When Brittany sees what it says it all makes sense.
The realization makes her feel like her chest is turning inside out, like she's been kicked in the stomach.
"Oh," she whispers.
Santana chokes out another sob that ripples her body and makes it twitch as she tries to hold it back. "Seven years," she whispers. "We could have been together seven years," she says. "Back then... I thought I was going to be married to you by now..."
Brittany flinches and breathes away her tears. "So, why aren't you?"
"Because I... " Santana whimpers. "Because I... I fucked it up."
"You ran away."
"Because I fucked everything up..." Santana reiterates.
Brittany shakes her head. "You didn't," she whispers. "I would have..." she swallows back tears. "I just needed a minute to figure out what I was going to do. I needed just a little while to be mad at you, but then I would have forgiven you and we would have been okay but you ran away. I would have forgiven you."
Santana shakes her head. "You wouldn't have."
"Yes, I would have," Brittany nods. "I would."
"Well, you shouldn't have."
Brittany sits up and shakes her head. "I would have married you, Santana. There and then, if you'd have asked me. I would have made you my wife because then you wouldn't have been able to leave me." She sits up and looks down at Santana. "It would have been us... forever. It could have been us."
Santana looks her in the eye for the first time in what feels like forever. Brittany shrugs.
"But you did, Santana," she whispers. "You left me and you broke my heart."
She feels Santana's eyes on her all the way to the door.
/
She doesn't sleep after that. She just sits in the living room in the dark, watching infomercials on mute and thinking about things that she's spent too many hours thinking about before.
Her fingers toy with the key necklace around her neck thoughtlessly and she jumps when she hears Santana speak from behind her.
"If I broke your heart," she whispers. "then why are you here, Brittany. Why would you do this? Why didn't you just try and forget like I did? Why didn't you just try and move on? Why did you come here?"
Brittany doesn't turn her body, just her head. Santana's stood there, in the doorway, far enough away that she can make a quick escape if she needs to.
"You don't get it, do you?" Brittany mutters, eying her a little, from her cute little snowflake pajama pants to her too-big sweatshirt. Her eyes are tired behind her glasses and Brittany has to close her eyes remembering the nights when she would wake up and find those eyes staring back at her like they couldn't even believe Brittany was real. "I loved you, Santana," she breathes. "I loved you and I had every intention of spending the rest of my life with you. It's what I wanted. Me and You. Forever. So you slept with someone else? What would that matter when we were going to be together for the rest of our lives? It was one mistake. I knew you'd never do it again. I could tell... just by the look on your face when you told me. But then you left and you didn't come home... you left me and you didn't even tell me why... I didn't have any answers. I spent six years wondering where the girl I loved was. I spent six years scared shitless that something would happen to you before I got to see you again, that you could be dead in a ditch somewhere and I would never know why you left me."
Santana takes in a deep breath and Brittany thinks she might start speaking but she doesn't. Instead, Brittany goes on.
"Did you just not care?" she asks, her voice cracking. "Was it me? Did you just... not love me? Did you just not want to love me anymore?"
"Brittany..." Santana breathes and it's a warning. She sniffles and Brittany feels her move closer. "I thought..." She starts. "I thought... I thought that you hated me," she admits. "Or that if you didn't then that you would eventually. I didn't want to stick around and watch that. I didn't want to wait and watch the only person who has ever made me feel loved stop loving me. I thought if I left, it would be easier for both of us because then I only had to deal with one of us hating me for what I did," She chokes. "I thought you'd forget about me eventually. I prayed that you would."
Brittany turns around to her and shakes her head.
For the first time, she's furious. Six years and, finally, she's truly overwhelmed by the anger she feels to the point that she almost feels like she can't do anything about it. Instead, she stands up and storms away without another word.
Leaving Santana behind in the living room, she paces the hall for a minute before she snatches her coat and her keys and heads outside into the cold. She marches towards her car and paces again when she reaches the back, not sure if she wants to do this.
She's glad when Santana follows her because that seals the deal. She knows it's the only way she'll ever be able to explain. Santana watches her from the door as she pops the trunk and Brittany's glad because she wants her to watch. She wants her to see.
Brittany hefts the wooden trunk out of the back of her car and grunts as she carries it back over to Santana in the doorway. She drops it in front of her and rubs at her cold nose for a second. She then quickly unhooks the gold chain from around her neck before kneeling down to unlock it. Santana watches her all the while, eyes narrow and curious as Brittany struggles with shaking hands.
She lifts the top of the trunk until Santana can see inside then stands up. The sobs come to as her anger manifests itself in a way that she can manage.
"One thousand, seven hundred and forty-two letters," she struggles, looking directly at Santana. She holds out the key to her but Santana doesn't take it. "They're all yours," she goes on, shaking the key. "They're all addressed to you."
When Santana still doesn't take the key, looking down into the trunk with a parted mouth, Brittany reaches forward and and shoves it into her hand.
"I numbered them, if you want to read them," she says and then backs away, stepping towards her car. She looks back only once before jumping in the driver's seat and leaving.
"I'm sorry about the spelling."
/
She has the first letter memorized.
My beautiful Santana, it starts.
I've tried everything but this is the only way I can speak to you. I don't know why you left or why you don't want to speak to me but I am glad that you're safe, that you're not alone and that you have a warm bed to sleep in because mine feels cold without you. My life feels cold without you and I miss you more than words can ever express. I wish that you would come back and tell me why you left. If you think I am angry about what you did then you should know that I'm not. I'm just disappointed and sad now that you're not here and want you to come home to me. I don't know what I'm supposed to do without you.
I don't know what I did to make you leave. Sometimes I wake up at night and think you're still here but you're not. I'm scared that you've stopped loving me because why else would you go? You can tell me if you have. I would understand. I would try to understand. I would accept it.
I would try to stop loving you too. If you wanted me to. It would be hard but I would do it for you.
I would do anything for you.
All my love, always and forever,
Your Brittany xx
/
She drives around for hours. She drives until the sun comes up and then she drives some more, the thought of her letters finally being read making her feel like her safety net has been taken from beneath her. It feels like she's falling, falling, falling and she doesn't know if anyone's going to be there when she lands to catch her.
She sits and drinks coffee in a diner, not caring that she's in her pajamas and a coat. No one looks at her funny anyway.
She scribbles patterns on a napkin and waits for something she's not sure of. She doesn't know what happens now.
"Here you are," someone says and Brittany looks up at the voice to find Maribel looking at her. She taps Brittany's coffee cup when the waitress heads over to them and she nods before turning back to the counter as Maribel sits down. "I've been looking for you."
"You didn't need to do that," Brittany mutters.
Maribel clicks her tongue. "Yes, I did," she chastises. "I couldn't have one of you sat sobbing in her bedroom and the other missing. I've already lost a mother this week. I don't think I can take much more."
Brittany drops her chin. "Sorry."
"Don't be silly," Maribel sighs as the waitress hands her a cup of coffee. "It's about time someone gave my daughter the kick up the ass she needed." She pauses. "Still, I don't think it would have worked coming from anyone but you."
Brittany sits quietly and sips her fresh cup of coffee once the waitress has poured it.
"You wrote a lot of letters," Maribel comments when they're alone again.
Brittany nods. "She was the only one who ever understood. Everything made more sense once I'd told her but I don't think she ever got that. It was the only way I could think of talking to her that wouldn't ruin anything else."
Maribel nods and reaches for her hand. "You should know that she genuinely thought you hated her. She was so sure of it I thought that it might kill her. She said that it was the only thing you could feel after what she did."
"I didn't," Brittany whispers, her voice wilting as she begins to cry again. "I don't. I can't..."
Maribel's grip on her hand tightens.
She sits with Brittany until she stops crying.
/
Maribel leaves her at the diner with errands to run and urges her to return to the house.
She does and enters timidly, not sure where Santana might be. When she isn't downstairs, Brittany creeps slowly upstairs and stops outside Santana's bedroom door, waiting. There's no noise coming from inside but she knocks on the door anyway. When Santana doesn't respond, she pushes the door open anyway.
The drapes are closed and Santana has her bedside lamp on. She's laying on her bed and there's two piles of letters laying beside her: ones that she's read and ones that she hasn't. There's still a lot in the trunk and Brittany rests her shoulder against the doorjamb as she stares at Santana.
She stares at the ceiling and there's a letter pressed to her chest. Tears coat her cheeks to the point where it looks like she's given up wiping them away.
"Why couldn't you just hate me?" she asks in a whisper. "Anyone else would have just... hated me."
Brittany doesn't answer, she just steps over to the bed and gathers the unread pile of letters in her arms and puts them back in the chest before she grabs the read ones and piles them onto Santana's empty dresser top. Then, she lays down beside Santana on her side, looking at her as she stares up at the ceiling.
"I could never hate you for anything," she whispers.
Santana takes a deep breath. "But then... why—why would you forgive me for what I did? How could you do that?"
Brittany shrugs. "I just could," she whispers. "I guess that makes me stupid, huh?" Santana looks at her then and looks like she doesn't know what to say. Brittany rakes her eyes over her features, relishes her expression. "Oh well," she breathes. "I'll be stupid."
Santana looks away and back at the ceiling. Brittany keeps watching her.
"Can you even remember her?" she asks, eyes narrowed. "Can you even remember the girl? Can you even remember what happened?"
Santana takes a deep breath and thinks. After a moment, she shrugs her shoulders. "I missed you... so much. I just wanted to give it up and come home. I wanted to come home to you. I wasn't happy there. I wasn't happy. You weren't there." Brittany holds her breath. "But you wanted this for me and I didn't want to let you down." Her eyes narrow. "I went to a party. I started drinking and I didn't stop. All I remember is waking up and I was naked and she was naked. She tried to kiss me and I pushed her away. I couldn't remember any of it. I ran out and I threw up. I spent the whole weekend trying to figure out what happened but I couldn't remember. I still can't now."
Brittany's face softens. Silly, she thinks as she looks at her. So silly. The silliest.
"You left me for something you can't even remember," she points out and Santana frowns before nodding her head. "I would have forgiven you," Brittany whispers. "And you could have come home. If you weren't happy in Louisville, you should have come home."
"I couldn't let you forgive me," Santana tells her and she looks at her again. "I wanted to make you proud of me
Brittany sinks her head into the pillow a little more. "I already was," she whispers. "I still kind of am."
Brown eyes widen in shock, searching out her own. "Yeah?"
Brittany searches back before nodding. "Yeah," she breathes.
Santana shifts closer almost subconsciously. "I'm sorry I hurt you for so long," she whispers. "I'm sorry I left you. I'm sorry I never explained."
Brittany reaches for her and shakes her head, eyes narrowing as she shifts closer too. "Explain now," she urges her.
"What do you want to know?" Santana asks.
Brittany shrugs. "I just want to know why you left me..." she breathes. "I want to know why I wasn't good enough."
Santana shakes her head and scoffs. "It had nothing to do with you," she chokes. "It was me," she whispers. "How was I supposed stick around knowing that I cheated on the most perfect person in the world?" she asks. "Even if you had forgiven me, how could I stay with you with everyone knowing what I'd done and thinking I didn't deserve you back?"
Brittany takes a moment and absorbs her answer. She thinks of everything she wondered in all those letters, all the times she thought Santana didn't love her anymore. She thinks of all the pain and the hurt she felt and it feels too good to know that Santana was probably feeling it just as much. She wants to cry because she thinks they spent six years missing and needing each other for no reason.
She does cry because the sting in her heart is slowly reducing to an ache and she's just sick of it. She's sick of all of it.
"Britt Britt..." Santana whispers desperately and then Brittany doesn't know what she's doing. She acts without thinking, purely on instinct. Her body moves closer and her hands grasp at Santana, palms cupping her cheeks as she pulls her closer until their foreheads press together. The relief at hearing that name, that perfect little name that she hasn't been called in so long, overwhelms her. She feels every piece of armor left on her body disappear into dust, every tense muscle relax. She sobs at the sound of it, at the feel of it slipping things into place in her chest, and traces her fingers over Santana's face, remembering.
Brown eyes—brown, beautiful, tired and honest eyes, flutter closed at the touch.
"We were supposed to be together forever," Brittany whispers against a hiccup. Santana's hand instantly reaches to cover the one on her face. "You left me and I should have moved on because I was so mad at you for leaving me. I should have moved on and I should have fell out of love with you but I didn't. I didn't."
Santana searches her face and clutches her nearer. "You didn't?"
Brittany shakes her head, hopeless. "I fell more in love with you," she gasps out. "You weren't there and I needed you. I never realized how much I needed you until I kept falling more and more in love with you..."
Santana whimpers and it takes a moment before she can speak, before she can find the right words.
"What do you want from me?" she begs desperately. "Why are you here? Why are you doing this?"
Brittany looks at her in disbelief and lets her eyes close until the tears squeeze down her cheeks.
"Because I love you," she whispers and it feels like she can breathe again the minute the words leave her. "Because I've been waiting for you to come home... I've been waiting six years for you to come home to me but now I can't wait anymore. I can't do it, Santana. I can't."
Santana reaches for her face and pulls her close, stroking hair from her face. Brittany melts at the touch, drowns in her wide open eyes.
"But I convinced myself I would never be allowed this again," she whispers. "I told myself that I would never be lucky enough to get you back, so I stayed away. No one's that lucky. No one's this lucky."
"But I'm yours," Brittany sobs. "This has nothing to do with luck. I'm yours, I'm yours, I'm yours." Her fingers reach to the back of Santana's head and tangle in her unruly dark curls. They feel like the strings that tether her to the universe. "I belong with you. I want to be with you. I want you."
"You do?"
"I always have," she breathes, tugging her nearer until their lips are almost touching."I always will."
"Britt Britt..." Santana whimpers again.
Brittany's heart thuds wildly in her chest. Santana's does, too. She's so close that Brittany can almost feel it trying to knock against her own. Except, Santana doesn't look relieved to feel that thud again. She looks pained, terrified, and Brittany hushes her gently, desperate to soothe her.
She presses her nose to Santana's lips to silence her, brushes it against them in the same way she used to in order to get her to stop talking, to calm her. It works, just like it always used to, and Santana vibrates with the feel of it under Brittany's palms. The touch is like a balm to her pain.
"Just tell me you still love me," Brittany begs, voice too quiet to be heard, only felt.
Santana's eyes flutter and she leans in a little, catching her bottom lip over Brittany's nose for a second time.
"I will never stop loving you," she says and they're soul words, deep and dark and coming up from the truest, most beautiful parts of her.
Her lips kiss Brittany's cheeks and Brittany's head lolls towards her, desperate to just seep into her. "Tell me you'll never leave me again."
Santana kisses her nose, her ear, her eyelid, her chin. "I will follow you wherever you go," she promises, breathing her in. "I will never leave you. Ever."
Brittany sighs in relief. Her thumb slips around to trace over Santana's top lip. "Kiss me, please," she whispers.
Santana softly smiles against her mouth at the words.
"Okay," she kisses. "Anything for you."
/
They don't kiss for long.
After six long and excruciating years, it's difficult to not just stop and stare at each other, wondering if it's all real.
Brittany strokes the backs of her fingers over Santana's face and Santana lets her, content to just watch Brittany and be touched.
"I missed you," she tells her after a little while, so softly that, for a moment, Brittany thinks she imagined it. She flattens her palm against Santana's cheek again until Santana nuzzles into it, reaching up hold it against her, before turning to press a kiss deep into Brittany's palm. "I missed you so much."
Brittany shifts a little closer until she can hook her arm under Santana's head and bury her hand into her hair, stroking it. "I missed you, too," she tells her quietly. "Every day."
Santana opens her mouth to speak but stops when her bedroom door opens.
They both turn to find Maribel stood their expectantly but she jumps a little when she sees them there, curled together. They begin to pull away from each other but Maribel jolts forward.
"No, no, no..." she says quickly. "Don't get up. It's fine. I was just making sure you were both okay. I didn't mean to interrupt."
Brittany offers her a smile and shakes her head. "You didn't. I should probably get some sleep anyway."
She makes to climb off the bed but Santana pulls her back.
"Stay," she begs in a whisper. Out of the corner of her eye, Brittany sees Maribel leaving the room quietly. "You can sleep," Santana nods. "You can sleep here and I'll move to the chair. Just... stay. Please."
Brittany presses a kiss between her eyes and strokes her nose against the same spot as she moves back. "Okay," she nods. "Yes."
/
She sleeps better than she's done in six years the minute that she settles under the covers of Santana's old bed.
Santana sits in her chair opposite her, watching her carefully as she quickly drifts off to sleep. It makes Brittany feel safe knowing that she's close.
Before she properly drops into the world of her dreams, she swears she feels a soft hand stroking across her forehead and a sweeping kiss being pressed to her forehead as someone pulls the covers tighter around her.
"I love you," she hears whispered against her skin.
It's the last push she needs to fall asleep.
/
For the first time in six years, she wakes up thinking Santana's there to find that she really is.
It's disorientating for a moment because she sort of began judging the truth of her reality by the existence of Santana within it. It takes her a while to realize that she's really there, that her head has somehow found itself pillowed in Santana's lap, and that she isn't dreaming. Santana smiles as Brittany touches her face and strokes over her features. She chuckles a little when Brittany grabs at the hand Santana has resting atop her head and presses her mouth to each fingertip. She clutches it and holds it against her chest as she turns into Santana's stomach and sighs.
"Aren't you sleepy?" she mumbles into Santana's t-shirt.
Santana shifts a little until her back is flat to the bed. Brittany welcomes the move and turns over until her cheek is flat to Santana's stomach, one hand bunched in her shirt as her blue eyes blink up at her.
"Not sleepy," Santana whispers and Brittany has to struggle not to fall back to sleep when Santana's thumb strokes over her eyebrows, down her nose and over her pouted top lip. "I've been trying to get through your letters."
Brittany's eyes open a little at that. "How far d'you get?" she asks.
Santana's smile struggles to reach the very corners of her face. "You just had sex with Sam for the first time." Brittany tenses and looks up at Santana and finds her looking like she's trying to hold back any sort of reaction. She looks away for a second and swallows visibly. "I'm not going to keep reading and find out that you're married and have three kids with him, am I?"
Brittany blinks before slowly shaking her head. "He's with Sugar," she tells her quickly. "He's with Sugar and he always said he wouldn't do that to us."
Santana frowns. "Do what?"
Brittany swallows. "Get in the way of us starting a family together."
Santana's eyes glisten and she tilts her head to the side a little, contemplating the words until a tear rolls down her cheek, realizing their possibility and Sam's unwavering belief in them, his kindness.
Brittany blinks slowly and plays with Santana's shirt. "What about you?"
Santana frowns. "What about me what?"
"You don't have a wife in the attic or something, do you?"
Santana laughs and that's enough for Brittany, but she shakes her head anyway.
"I couldn't. I wouldn't," she says, stroking blonde hair from blue eyes. "I wouldn't dare."
Brittany blinks. "Me either."
Santana's body relaxes and Brittany gets the feeling that those words were all she needed to hear.
/
They lay in Santana's bed for as long as they can.
They don't really know what the time is or what's going on around them but it doesn't matter.
Time isn't really something that matters anymore. It only mattered when they were apart, when they needed something to measure the space between them. Time doesn't matter anymore because they're together.
Brittany lays there, watching Santana as she reads her letters, and has never felt more content. She gets to watch a million emotions wash Santana's face from one second to another. She gets to see her smile, see her blush, see her cry. She gets to see all the things she's missed, all the reactions to her words she never thought she would get to witness, and they're better than she ever expected.
Like, she loves how, occasionally, a letter will affect Santana more than the rest, making her set it down so that she can curl around Brittany's body instead, whispering things against Brittany's skin that don't really make sense anymore. She loves how sometimes Santana won't want to hold her but will want to kiss her instead, her mouth so sure and furious that it hurts when she pulls away. She loves how reverent Santana is of each letter, slipping each one back in its envelope when she's done, like every word matters.
But, mostly, she just loves how, more than anything, Santana constantly stops reading just to look at her, staring at her like Brittany can't possibly be real. She loves how she'll tilt her head to the side a little and smile before continuing to read. But, sometimes, she doesn't. Sometimes, she stops reading again and leans over Brittany to get a better look at her, searching.
Those times, she's barely able to contain the smile that covers her face.
Those times, she'll kiss Brittany's nose and let her eyes flutter closed at the taste of her skin.
"Thank you," she'll whisper against Brittany's skin until Brittany's confused "Your welcome" gets lost into a kiss.
/
They fall asleep a mess of tangled limbs and wake up closer together before falling back into slumber. Their noses squash and their breaths mingle.
Brittany thinks she could die right here, right now, with Santana sleepily mumbling her love when the sun flickers into her eyes through half-open blinds.
She knows it would mean dying happy.