Notes: I 100% glossed over the whole "Brittany not graduating" because of the many things I hate about Glee, that's one of the top ones, but I wanted this to be canon so interpret it however you want lol.

You get the same locker again, right between Brittany and Santana, and despite the secretary's apologetic grimace, you feel excitement fill you. You just might be the only person in the entity of Lima who doesn't feel any hint of fear around Santana Lopez and Brittany Pierce, and that fact fills you with more than a little bit of smug pride. You're a little surprised to see them back in their Cheerio uniforms, but Brittany waves at you and Santana gives you that half smile and you feel more at ease than you have since you left California. You still don't speak to them, but you're no longer invisible, and even still they don't try to hide their softness around you like they do to everyone else.

You're pretty sure you're just about the only person in McKinley who they trust, and you wear that badge with secret pride. They're inseparable right from the start of the year, and there's something easier about them now. There's no longer a struggle, they're comfortable, and Santana doesn't try to force herself to look at guys and pretend and pretend and pretend anymore, and Brittany doesn't hesitate to link their pinkies or thread her arm through Santana's or be soft, soft, soft anymore. You don't know what happened over the summer, but you're glad for whatever it is. Everything is easy for them, and you watch and smile and your chest doesn't ache because of the pain in their eyes. You talk to the boy with the sunshine smile and you don't feel the need to linger by the water fountain to give Brittany and Santana space anymore.

You see the posters Brittany puts up in the hallways and you smile at the thought of Brittany Pierce as president. She's charismatic and she has the emotional maturity of someone who's lived a hundred lifetimes and you know she's a lot smarter than anyone but Santana — and you, you suppose — realizes. Brittany worries at the lockers though, and today you slowly pull your binders out and pretend that Brittany and Santana don't know that you're eavesdropping. Santana tells Brittany that people would be crazy not to vote for her, and you hear the quiet threat in her voice. You inwardly roll your eyes because Santana is incredibly dorky and transparent and you give them a half smile and wave at them as you head to your math class and warmth settles in your chest at the small, awed smile Brittany gives you and then the wide, adoring one she gives Santana.

You hear rumours of trouble in the Glee club, and you listen to Santana and Brittany talk about Mercedes Jones leaving the New Directions (you can't help but snicker every time you hear that name, and you know it's okay because Santana always smirks at you in agreement). You like Mercedes, she was your lab partner last year in bio and you're really hoping you'll be lab partners again next semester. She's funny and kind and you're pretty sure she's far too big for this school, far to big for this town (because you see how much Mercedes works to be seen as half as good as everyone else, and you secretly cheer her own because she deserves good things).

Mercedes quits the New Directions and before you know it, Brittany and Santana join her and the Troubletones are formed. They don't ask for your approval or anything, but Santana purposefully floats the name around you and Brittany adoringly rolls her eyes at how unsubtle Santana is and you give them both a half smile in approval (any choral name that doesn't automatically make you want to giggle like a twelve year old is good in your opinion). You note how their hands drift together and tangle before they catch themselves and link their pinkies and the grin that spreads across your face is a little uncontrollable. You noticed the change right on that first day back from summer break, all the little things that are settled and comfortable about them now, and you couldn't be happier for your kinda, sorta friends.

The Troubletones are good, you know even before you hear or see them, because you hear the New Directions worry. And one day as you walk past the classroom they use for practice, you can't help but to drift closer. You've heard Santana and Mercedes both sing a little bit on their own, but you've never heard them sing before, and you don't know how the New Directions struggle so much when they have powerhouses like that; but then you remember they have dancers like Finn Hudson and Puck (which is still, you maintain, the dumbest name you've ever heard) and, while they have the talent and the desire, it sometimes seems like they don't really have the direction. Ironic, really, you know, and you maybe laugh about it a little. Clapping starts in the classroom and you carefully peak in to find Santana and Mercedes and a junior (you think her name is Sugar or something, but you also think that might have been a joke when you heard Santana talk about her) singing and cheering and clapping and, just like with Santana and Mercedes, you knew Brittany could dance, but you've never seen her dance.

You walk away and feel just a little bit smug. Sure, you were always quietly rooting for the Glee Club, but you're actually actively wishing the Troubletones the best because you know these girls, even if you've only ever spoken to one about bio and lab directions and general life before. But you've always seen the small stuff, and you can't help it when you hope the Troubletones will crush everyone at Regionals.

Your mom asks you if you know Santana Lopez, and despite the fact that you've still never spoken to her, you find yourself nodding your head easily. Your mom smiles and starts talking about Maribel Lopez and how kind and snarky she is and how much the two of them have bonded about being working, single moms; she wonders if you and Santana would get along alright and you shrug, and you think of the half smiles Santana sends you because she knows that you won't ever say anything to anyone, and you're pretty sure that the two would definitely get along alright.

You see Maribel around the house, sometimes, and you smile and greet her politely and you marvel at how her daughter has that exact same half smile that she gives you in return. You listen to them talk from the top of the stairs, sometimes, and you try to pretend that you feel guilty about eavesdropping. They complain about the hospital and they complain about deadbeat fathers and they complain about the gas prices, but you sit patiently and listen for when they reach the bottom of the wine bottle and their complaining turns to quiet wisdom. You listen for when they start to talk about you and Santana, about how hard it is to watch their kids struggle with themselves for so long, about how much they wish they could take all the hardships they'll face away, about how much more they just wish for their children's happiness. You know Santana hasn't come out to her mom yet, and you only came out to your mom at the end of sophomore year, but they trade stories and worries and wisdom and you know, you know that sometimes mom's just know, and the best mom's know and don't tell and wait patiently and worry and give the tightest hugs at the end of it all. Your mom is like that, and you hear the worry and love that coats Maribel's voice and you know Santana's mom is like that too, and you wish you could tell Santana that but it's another of those things that you know you have to keep secret; she'll find out soon enough, you know.

You dread winter coming, and before you know it, it's November and it's snowing. Brittany and Santana still wear their Cheerios uniforms and you wonder how exactly Coach Sylvester manages that, but you don't entertain the thought for long because you're not entirely convinced that Coach Sylvester can't read minds. They wear their letterman jackets more often than not now, and you think they take the most joy in the bushy sleeves and the large pockets because, if they stand really close to each other like they have been for as long as you've known them, it's really hard to tell that Santana's hand is actually holding Brittany's in one of their pockets.

When Santana is outed you don't know what you feel. You feel more anger than you've ever felt because you can't even imagine what must have been going through Finn Hudson's head to be so cruel as to out Santana in a hallway like that (you suspect, like you often do, that not a whole lot was going through his brain). You feel sad for her and Brittany, too, because you could tell that they were getting ready to come out on their own terms and that was just ripped from them (it was how Santana's eyes lingered too long on Brittany's lips but she didn't jolt herself away and look both frustrated and sad and scared like she used to, it was how their hands would drift towards each other in front of your locker and stay there until you awkwardly shuffled up, it was how Santana has been sending you those half smiles without the fear behind them). You think you feel weird, most of all, knowing that everyone knows what you know, even weirder than you did when you first realized you knew what they were to each other, even weirder than when they first realized that you knew what they were to each other. You feel weird because there's something sacred about them, and you feel weird because you know other people won't understand that sacred thing like you do, and you feel weird because people will pry into that sacred thing without even trying to understand. You know you will because some of your friends ask you about it with greedy eyes and you shake your head and tell them you had no clue about Brittany and Santana being Brittany-and-Santana because, despite everything being in the open, you're still not going to betray that trust that Brittany and Santana have put into you.

You watch sit in the living room and maintain your weekly routine of watching the newest episode of CSI with your mom, something you two have been doing for years. You sit and make fun of the commercials and then, then your blood runs cold when you see Santana's face on your television screen. Your blood runs cold and your heart pounds and your stomach twists and you think you might be sick. Based on the look on your mom's face, she's not to far off either, except her face is filled with an anger you've never seen before and you know she must be thinking of Maribel and how helpless she must feel right now, and you wonder if maybe she's thinking about you too, and how it could have been your face on that ad right now. That night you call the boy with the sunshine smile and you tell him about it and he lets you rant and he lets you cry and then, at the end of it, he offers you support and wisdom, and you kind of think you love him for it.

You don't know how she does it, but Santana walks into the school with her head high and her hand in Brittany's, and despite the whispers and the stares she just goes about her business as if said business wasn't just broadcast to all of McKinley and then to all of Lima in less than a week. You're pretty sure that you have whiplash from all of it, but the only thing that gives Santana away is the way her fingers tighten around Brittany's whenever she feels leers on her back or hears hate aimed at her and Brittany or sees some jocks stalking down the hall. But it's such a small thing that you're pretty sure you're the only one who ever notices, and that's mostly because you've always noticed the small things, and you've learned to read Brittany and Santana over the past year and a half. (You hear rumours of one Santana Lopez slapping one Finn Hudson and you maybe give Santana an approving smirk and a high five the next time you pass her and, despite her confusion, she rolls her eyes and gives you a half smile like always, and you grin.)

Brittany wins the election, and it's nowhere near enough to get people to stop talking about Santana's outing, but based on the pride in Santana's eyes it's enough to get Santana to forget about being outed, for at least a little while. You wear your dumb little I voted sticker and when Brittany sees it and looks at you expectantly and you smile and nod, because who the hell else would you vote for?

You slip into the auditorium and watch the Regionals performance and you're as filled with awe as you were that day you saw the Troubletones practicing in the classroom all those weeks ago. You don't understand when they don't win, and when Brittany and Santana show up at the lockers the next day you shake your head and offer them a half smile as you head to class. They eventually perk up, and before you know it they're being unbelievably adorable again. You spend Christmas with your mom and your aunt and uncle and your little cousins. Your older cousin comes back from university and his jaw falls open and doesn't really close when you tell him about the happenings of McKinley lately. He asks you if you knew Brittany and Santana were together before they were outed and he can't quite believe it when you tell him you've known for a long time (you trust your cousin because he was the first person you came out too, and you know he doesn't want to know for gossip reasons like your friends did). And he laughs and teases you for having an amazing gaydar. You smile good-naturedly and agree even though you know that it has less to do with a gaydar and more to do with the fact that you were lucky enough to get the locker between two of the few people at McKinley who you could so intimately see and understand.

You get Mercedes as a lab partner in the new semester and you both high five. Because it's all out in the open now, you talk about Brittany and Santana and you laugh when you realize that there has been another person at McKinley all this time who saw all the small things you did. You compare notes, and you grin and you feel light at finally being able to talk about this to someone who knew what you did, and who knew how important and precious and sacred of a secret you both kept.

Brittany and Santana are even more adorable as Valentine's Day approaches, and you know it's because this is the first holiday they'll actually get to spend together together. You see Brittany head towards the lockers with something clutched nervously in her hands and you pause by the water fountain for the first time since last year. You avert your eyes to try and give them some privacy in the hallway like you always do, but your eyes drift to them anyways, like they always do. You feel light though, for the first time, hiding by the water fountain, because this conversation at the lockers is much happier than any of the ones that took place last year. You see Brittany offer Santana her present and you see Santana melt, even if you can only see the back of her head and her shoulders, and you see them start to lean in for a kiss and you do avert your eyes, because you don't want to be accused of being a creep even if the only thing you get out of watching them kiss is a small sense of pride and joy that they've finally made it this far. But then Principal Figgins shouts across the hall and your stomach twists and you're suddenly reminded that this is Lima and people in Lima are very particular about what is and isn't appropriate; and you suppose horny teenagers on Valentine's Day are appropriate as long as they're not gay teenagers.

You hear about Dave Karofsky through a the school's gossip and you freeze. You might have suspected, but you were never sure, and you know the stats as well as any kid and you know that, no matter what Dave Karofsky did, no one deserves to have their sexuality used as a weakness when it so often takes so long to see it as a strength. You see how Brittany's eyes never stray from Santana, and you briefly wonder if she ever thought—

(You don't want to know the answer, but you suspect, and you suspect Brittany suspects. You both watched her turn fragile and small and scared last year, and you regret that you didn't actively do more. You regret it because you know what it's like to be there, and you wouldn't wish it on anyone.)

Brittany never strays too far from Santana, and Santana threads her fingers through Brittany's and strokes her hand over her arm whenever she has a chance and you know Santana is trying to reassure Brittany. She sends you a half smile and you send one back and you finish the day and head home. Your mom hugs you extra long and extra hard that night and you let her because you need it too.

Your SATs come up far faster than you want them to, and more often than not Santana gives you that half smile and Brittany waves at you and you all groan wordlessly about the upcoming tests. Brittany brings her girlfriend a coffee in the morning more often than not, and Santana melts and smiles up at Brittany as if she's the best thing (you're pretty confident in saying that Brittany's not just the best thing when it comes to Santana, but that she's everything when it comes to Santana). Some days Brittany will slip you a cookie she picked up and put her finger to her mouth when you try to thank her. You laugh instead and accept the cookies with a nod; between the three of you, you've gone almost two years without saying a single thing and you, like Brittany, really don't want to break that record.

Prom comes and you skip it again this year. You don't really find that you miss it, mostly because you talk to the boy with the sunshine smile most of the night. Though you do fleetingly think of Brittany and Santana, and you grin because you know how worried Santana was about picking out the perfect corsage for Brittany because Mercedes had told you that afternoon, you grin because you know that Santana could give Brittany a corsage made of dandelions and she would love it. The next day there's a new picture in Brittany's locker of them at the prom, sitting on one of those dinosaurs for the photobooth Brittany was so excited about, wearing their fancy dresses and their matching corsages and their dorky smiles, and you laugh because anyone who ever thought that they were cool is sorely mistaken.

They go to Chicago for nationals this year, and you smile and wave as they leave school that last day before they leave. As soon as you hear the result you grin and can't contain it and you are so happy for the club. You see the fear on their faces when they get home and you feel a little bad for participating but mostly overjoyed at how surprised they will be. You stand by the lockers and throw fake-slushy at them and grin and you remember that very first day of junior year and you marvel at how far everyone has come, and before you know it, grad is in a couple days.

You don't think that they even know your name until you're called to walk across the stage. You definitely know they recognize you when you pass them after throwing your grad cap high into the air, because Santana gives you one of those half smiles as you pass, one that blooms into dimples and a scrunched nose and bright eyes when Brittany playfully elbows her in the side with one arm and waves at you with the other.

You smile back at them and wave, and you know, you know that even though you never won any of those dumb yearbook awards, you know that you're the best person at keeping secrets in all of McKinley.

It's years later, when your mom sends you a picture of the announcements section of the Lima newspaper with about a bajillion exclamation points and you're not surprised, not really, not when you spent two years standing at the locker between them, when you see Brittany and Santana's names printed neatly together under the wedding announcements section. You laugh and shake your head and read your mom's texts about how over the moon Maribel is for her daughter and the girl who's always been a second daughter to her and you feel something warm and bright settle in your chest. You look over at your husband with the sunshine smile and grin, and you think of that first day, that day when that first glimpse of dimples and soft eyes gave you something to secretly root for in that small hell-town, because your hope resided on Brittany and Santana making it work, because if they couldn't make it through the homophobia of that town and come out the other side successfully you knew you had no chance.

But you always knew you didn't have to worry, because Brittany-and-Santana was always Brittany-and-Santana through it all, because no matter what happened in the middle, you knew it would always be those two at the end.

Fate has a funny way of working out like that.