Burning Like a Candle Chapter 2, a glee fanfic

Author's note: This story's title, this chapter's song and some of the themes come from the song and music video Candle by The White Tie Affair (featuring Heather Morris!)

Santana Lopez was not one to mess with. She could buy a person, break them and sell them for twice the initial price. She could grind you up with her heel and no one would care. Santana Lopez was a scary, scary person. Beyond that, she was also brilliant. As a film producer, she could pull sponsors from seemingly no where. None of her movies were underfunded and she would oversee the whole project from start to finish with an eye for talent few others could boast about. Within the first year she became one of the most promising talents the film industry had in a long time.

She had burst onto the scene about seven years ago. Fresh out of college, she quickly went about establishing her name, even if it was by unconventional and slightly shady ways. In less than four years, she had made herself into a feared but respected producer.

The way she went about her personal business was not unlike her professional business. Over the course of her career, she dated a handful of men. Most of them were lawyers, other famous producers and and CEOs. None of these had lasted more than a few months. Her longest relationship was with a man roughly 12 years older who had proposed to her the night of their two year anniversary. Santana immediately rejected him, telling him she wasn't ready for such a big commitment. He broke it off with her the next day, yelling something about how she would never let him in or anyone else in for that matter and he might as well have dated a brick. Santana took this all in stride, he had served his use having introduced her to sponsors who were more than interested in the films she advertised. Santana Lopez was not someone who formed a relationship with someone who she couldn't use in some way or another.

One night, the telephone in her apartment rang. With an angry growl, she sat up, abandoning the nameless stranger she decided to bed for the night to answer it.

"What?" she demanded.

"Santana Lopez?" The voice on the other end was vaguely familiar and she racked her still drunk brain to figure out who it was.

"Yeah, who is this?"

"It's Quinn. Quinn Fabray." Santana suddenly got a lot more sober.

"Quinn? What the hell? It's like...4."

"I'm sorry, Santana...I'm..." It sounded like she was sobbing.

"Quinn?" At this point, her companion had also woken up and she made violent motions for him to leave promising certain death if he didn't do so within a few seconds. He complied, dragging his clothes with him as he exited.

"I'm so sorry Santana."

The funeral was arranged for the following week. All the Glee club members arrived, their mood somber. Santana looked around at the people she no longer knew. Rachel had made it to New York, fulfilling her dream of being on Broadway. She starred in some off Broadway productions before making her appearance in an Tony nominated role. She and Finn had an on and off relationship for the duration of her stay in New York before she moved out to California to pursue a film career. Finn had gone on to pursue a degree in teaching, following in Mr. Shuester's footsteps. He settled in northern Cali where he founded the first glee club at his high school. From what Santana heard, they were doing pretty well for themselves.

Tina and Artie had split up simply due to the distance but remained good friends throughout the years. Tina followed Kurt in the fashion business and Kurt became an interior decorator. The two of them had moderate success and were living fairly well off in Boston. Artie became a music historian in Tennessee, studying specifically the history of dance. From the emails she received and usually deleted, it sounded like Artie had met a lady working in the adjacent museum and were happily engaged.

Quinn Fabray had more or less settled down. She and Puck actually got married and stayed in Lima. Puck went to Ohio state while Quinn worked at home writing an advice column for the local newspaper. When Puck graduated, he returned to take coach Tanaka's place as football coach. The two of them eventually got married, something that Santana wanted to attend but didn't have the time.

Instead, she attended Puck's funeral. Somewhere along the lines, Puck's health had deteriorated for no apparent reason. Quinn found him on the floor of the kitchen convulsing. He had been unable to recover in the hospital and died shortly before Quinn called Santana.

Santana noted, with a hint of irony, that Quinn was pregnant.

Rachel held Quinn close as she cried into her shoulder. Finn (were they dating again? Santana thought with a mild look of disgust) stood close by, watching with red swollen eyes as they lowered the casket into the hole. Perhaps the years of bitterness had worn Santana down but she felt no sadness about Puck's passing. She felt a certain blankness. Where everyone else had strained to keep in touch, she made no such gesture. Naturally, this man with the characteristic mohawk being slowly buried was someone she had a memory of but nothing more. Her eyes scanned the crowd as she got into her car. She stopped dead when she saw a flash of bright blond hair in the crowd of black. She got out, closed the door behind her and walked as if possessed towards the girl in the wheel chair.

She looked nothing like the Brittany from ages ago. Everything that made her shine, her naivete, her charisma was gone. Where Brittany had been toned from her dancing, the girl in front of her was thin and broken. Santana had no words for her so she stood, transfixed a few feet away until Brittany noticed her.

"San?"

"Hey." She said automatically.

"Wow! It's been so long!" Brittany wheeled over to her and hugged her around the waist. Santana suddenly had the urge to run away.

"Yeah."

"I didn't see you at the wedding, or any of our reunions. I hear you're famous." Brittany seemed older, more tired and Santana hated it.

"You've changed."

"You too." Brittany retorted. Santana moved away from the blonde and they stayed in a strained silence. Santana wanted to scream to interrupt it but she didn't.

"I have a flight to catch. My movie needs me." She said and turned around.

"That's it, huh?" Brittany said sadly. "The tabloids were right. You really don't form relationships with anyone who isn't of any use to you."

"You don't know a thing about it." Santana snapped. She spun around, her eyes furious and expecting Brittany's to be the same. But what she saw was the same wounded puppy look that Brittany would give her every time she crossed the line back in high school.

"You said you would visit. You didn't so much as call." Brittany whispered.

"I'm sorry." The words felt strange coming up her throat. It had been such a long time since she apologized to anyone. Even seeing Quinn after she had lost Puck she hadn't said so much as "I'm sorry for your loss." She merely reached out awkwardly and touched her on the shoulder.

"It's ok. I know you don't want to associate with a Lima loser."

"You're not a Lima loser!" Santana shouted. The graveyard was impossibly quiet and Santana never though she would've ever wished for the noise of New York to drown out her thoughts.

"Santana, I work at Sheets and Things. I don't even know how to fold the towels properly."

"You're not a Lima loser." Santana repeated.

"I can't dance. That was the only thing I was good at."

"YOU'RE NOT A LIMA LOSER." Santana all but screamed at her. Brittany went silent. Santana took two big steps and positioned herself behind the wheelchair.

"What are you doing?" Brittany asked as Santana began wheeling her to her car.

"I'm doing what I wanted to do every single day since I left you here." She responded. She opened the passenger door. "Get in." Brittany, as if nothing had changed, listened to everything that Santana said for her to do. She hoisted herself onto the seat with a little help from Santana and they drove to Brittany's house.

"Keys." She said, opening her hand.

"What?" Brittany was confused.

"Give me the keys to your house." She repeated. Brittany complied.

"What are you doing?" Santana said nothing and got out of the car. "Hey! Hey!" The brunette opened the front door and walked in. She looked around. Since Brittany lost the use of her legs, her mother had moved her room to the first floor. When Santana found it, she rummaged through the closet for a suit case. She found what she was looking for and opened all of Brittany's drawers. She started stuffing all of the clothes she could into the suitcases she found.

"What are you doing?" Brittany rolled in.

"You're leaving Lima."

"What?"

"God Brittany, did you ears go too?" Santana demanded. Brittany winced and instantly Santana felt bad. "Fuck, sorry. I just have been meaning to do this for a while."

"Where am I going?" Brittany asked.

"You're coming with me. You're going to New York." Santana said.

"No." Brittany replied.

"What did you say?"

"No. I'm not uprooting myself just to follow you on your stupid career where you probably won't even give two fucks about me after the first two weeks." Santana stopped packing. She stared at the clothes for a long time.

"I'm tired, San. I just want to be left alone. And I don't want to follow you like a lost puppy anymore."

"You're not a lost puppy, Brit. I'm going to take care of you like I should've. I'm your best friend." With that said, Santana kissed her. It wasn't a simple peck. Santana kissed her with as much emotion as she could muster and it was over a decade of wanting something she didn't have. After she broke the kiss off, Brittany simply said,

"Ok."

Brittany moved in a few days later. Santana had only managed two suitcases on top of her own and planned to have the rest of Brittany's possessions shipped to New York. It was difficult to adjust at first. Santana had to go to work and Brittany mostly hung around the apartment. Santana had carved out an empire, Brittany noted, looking at the various photos that she had lying around. She posed with famous directors, actors, company chairmen and all sorts of politicians. The apartment was clean and mechanically organized. Santana could use some color to it, for now the walls were a cream color with the only exception being a splash of gray or blue every other corner. She wheeled herself into the bedroom and stared at the queen sized bed. There was only one and even though Santana offered to sleep on the couch, Brittany convinced her that the bed was clearly big enough for three people. They fell asleep together though they maintained their distance during the night.

On the night stand was a tabloid that Santana had picked up for laughs but Brittany hardly found it amusing. There was a front page article about her with the caption, "Has Santana Lopez lost her edge?" Inside, there were plenty of pictures of Santana wheeling Brittany around and, as the captions underneath noted as if it were something heaved forbade, laughing. She cringed when the author of the article, clearly a master of words said, "Is this Lopez's attempt to be more human? Who is this mysterious blonde charity project?" But there were good pictures of them, some of Santana smiling, some of Brittany smiling and some of them just being in close proximity to each other. She cut out the photos and put them in an album, deciding to make the most of them.

She smiled a little when she found the senior yearbook lying underneath Santana's bed. She flipped through the pages and wondered where the time went. She couldn't stop herself from crying when she saw the photo they had taken right after graduation. She held the photo close and kissed the picture.

Santana simultaneously hated and loved coming home. She wanted to see Brittany but at the same time, when she turned the door knob, she'd find Brittany sitting near the window looking outside. What was she thinking, bringing her here? She had almost nothing to do. It hurt her when Brittany would hear the door open and break into a smile. She would wheel herself over and say,

"Hey San! How was your day?" Santana knew exactly how Brittany's day went.

One day Santana came home and Brittany was no where to be seen.

"Brit?" She shouted. She knew that Brittany went out during the day to look around and keep herself busy but she was always here when Santana came home from work. There were no exceptions. Santana felt her blood run cold and she dropped everything.

"Brit?" She yelled. "Brit?"

"Um...here..." She heard a small voice come from the bathroom.

"Brit are you ok?" Santana asked, knocking on the door.

"I need help." Santana walked in. Brittany lay in the bathtub, almost completely submerged in water. Santana blushed but she didn't look away. Brittany's hair was soapy and she held a sponge in one hand. Santana noted with sadness that Brittany's legs, once beautiful and elegant had become thin and bony where the muscles were no longer used.

"Are you ok?" Santana asked.

"Yeah. Um...I usually take a bath before you get back but I can't reach my back. Could you wash it for me?" Santana had seen Brittany naked before, it was no secret that the two of them frequently had sex back in high school. But this Brittany was vulnerable in a way she wasn't in high school and Santana realized just how much trust it took for her to ask this. Santana sat by the tub and took the sponge. She began washing slowly and gently, beginning at Brittany's shoulders and neck and slowly making her way in little circles down her back. Brittany smiled softly to herself. As ruthless as Santana might've been in the world of film, there was no question what she was like around a certain blonde. They had been living together for a little over a month now and everyday just being around Santana, watching how meticulously she cared, ate away at Brittany.

"Hold me." Brittany whispered so quietly that she wasn't sure that Santana heard. Santana did. She paused for a moment and then, suit and all, got into the bathtub with her. For a moment, Brittany was shocked. That suit was by no means cheap and Santana ruined it without a second thought just to give Brittany what she wanted. And that had to stop.

Brittany finished writing the letter and set it down on the counter. She grabbed the photo, allowing herself one small memory of the time they had spent together. She looked at the picture, saw the smiling faces of all her friends and kissed each of them. She turned towards the door, backpack on her lap and reached for the doorknob.

But Santana opened the door before she did and the two of them stared at each other for a few seconds in surprise. Brittany looked at the clock next to the door. It was hours before Santana was supposed to be home. Santana noticed the backpack.

"Where are you going?" Brittany looked down at the ground and said nothing. Santana searched her face but found nothing. Then she noticed the piece of paper on the table. She walked past Brittany and opened it. Brittany sat there, lip trembling while Santana skimmed it one, then twice.

"What the hell is this?" Santana demanded, shaking the letter.

"I'm so sorry." Brittany whispered on the verge of tears.

"What the hell is this? You're leaving?"

"I don't want to be a burden to you anymore. I was just going to go back to Lima and pick up where I left off." Tears fell freely from Brittany's azure blue eyes. Santana read the letter one more time as if it would change into something that made sense.

"'I'm only wasting your time...' 'You deserve better'" Santana quoted from the letter. "'I loved you'? This is bull shit!" She violently ripped the paper apart into bits, crying out in frustration.

"I love you, San, I can't let you be my caretaker for the rest of my life."

"Shut up!" Santana screamed. "You want to go back to Lima? Fine." She grabbed Brittany by the arm and lifted her over her shoulder.

"Santana put me down!" Brittany yelled. When did you get so strong...?

"I'm taking you back to fucking Lima since you want it so badly." Santana snapped. When did you get so light...? Santana carried Brittany to her car and dumped her into the passenger seat.

"Let me out, Santana." Santana said nothing, locked the doors and started driving. Brittany turned her head away and her tears slid sideways from Santana driving so fast. The top of the car was down and the wind whipped through her hair. Once they hit the highway, Brittany resigned herself to whatever Santana was doing. She slowly drifted to sleep after the second hour just as the sun was setting.

Brittany awoke slowly. At first she though Santana had said something to her. She looked around and noticed that it had become dark. She looked at the time and realized they had been driving for nearly four hours. Santana didn't seem to notice that Brittany had awoken.

"I took a ride on a February morning,
Just getting over it and dealing with the mourning,
I started thinking out loud: I'm so sick and tired of being sick and tired,
My baby's flying off the edge of the road,
She's saying, "I'm so sorry about that note",
That left me all alone,
But I'm so sick and tired of being sick and tired"

Brittany realized Santana was singing. Santana had not sung since she graduated but Brittany did not know that. To her it sounded as if Santana had never stopped. She rested her head against the car door and listened.

"Somebody turn the lights on,
Somebody tell me what's wrong,
I'd be lying if I told you,
Losing you was something I could handle,
Somebody turn the lights on,
Somebody tell me how long,
All this darkness will surround you,
Cuz I'm burning for you,
Burning like a candle"

Brittany felt her heart pound. In the dimness, she saw Santana turn her head and stare directly at her. When they made eye contact, Brittany understood.

"Seven days since I've seen your face,
Seven nights I have laid to waste,
I'm burning out now,
I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired,
I know we're hanging at the end of the rope,
We've flown too high, maybe swung too low,
I heard a screaming out loud,
I heard a screaming out loud."

Santana was singing to her. She had never, ever done this before. But Santana was staring directly into Brittany's eyes and singing. Brittany didn't even notice when Santana slowed the car down and parked at the side of the road. She was transfixed by the brown eyes shimmering with tears in the little light that the car's headlights gave off. Santana straddled Brittany as she sang and grabbed both of her hands and lifted them so that they were on either side of Santana's face. Brittany felt wetness on Santana's cheeks and finally noticed the tears.

Santana kissed both her palms and then kissed her lips. She could taste the salt from both of their tears and the two pressed their lips together hungrily as if they need to make up for all the kisses that never happened. When they broke for a brief second, Santana let out a choked sob and Brittany kissed her again just as frantically as the previous kiss had been. Finally, Santana pulled away.

"I can't let you go." Her voice shook with a sadness that startled Brittany. "I can't let you go. I don't care what happens, you could be a vegetable and I'll still take care of you. So please, please just tell me to go back so that I can just be with you."

"What if I tell you to keep driving?" Brittany asked.

"Then I will take you to Lima and you can go back to what you were doing and...and I'll leave you alone." Santana's body trembled. Brittany knew she loved the brunette sitting in her lap. She knew that she could trace her face for an eternity and always discover something new, a lost eyelash, a freckle, a new wrinkle as time went on. She loved Santana from her previous life where everything was bright and she could dance and laugh and smile. She loved her now for making breakfast in the morning even though she didn't eat it, for taking her out at night around the city despite the fact that she had to wake up at four to start answering emails and phone calls. She loved her for taking her away from Lima and getting into a bathtub with all her clothes on just to hold her close. It was only now that she realized she couldn't let go either.

"I don't want to be alone." Brittany breathed the words, hardly giving any sound to them. "So can I please go back with you?" Santana let out another sob but it was mixed in with a laugh. She kissed Brittany, smiled and laughed through the tears and repeated that several time before climbing back into the driver's seat.

"We'll make it work, Brit." Santana promised. "I'll make you happy." Brittany looked over at Santana who wiped her tears away and started the car. If I'm going to rely on her then...She leaned over and rested her head on Santana's shoulder. Santana glanced over at her and took her hands, lacing their fingers together. Brittany felt happy for the first time since she lost her legs. This new found happiness brought a fresh wave of tears to her eyes that made the stars above her blend into one giant wave of light when she looked up. She heard Santana humming the song she had sung earlier. This time Brittany sang. Her voice was soft and almost lost as the car cut through the night but Santana caught the end of it.

"Cuz I'm burning for you

Burning like a candle."

Fin