A/N: I like to think that if Brittana ever officially happened, Artie and Mercedes would get together or something. Admittedly, I like Merzimio a lot, but Artcedes is cute, too, since I'm pretty sure Mike and Tina are going to stay together and Tina won't pull a Quinn any time soon. Anyway, here's this, the third drabble. There is only four, so we're almost done. ;D
"…Santana?" comes Brittany's quiet voice, and she enters the empty choir room. It's dark, and only the setting sun filtering in through the windows. "Everybody's gone home already. Like, hours ago. And… and if we don't leave soon, we might meet the school's ghost, and I really don't want to meet a ghost. Haunted places creep me out."
"There's no fucking ghost, Britt," Santana scoffs, and she sniffles. She hadn't been crying, but it's almost a Pavlov thing, that operant conditioning training Santana to feel like crying every time Brittany is around. Santana's heart clenches in her chest. She inwardly wishes that Dave were here. He always makes her feel better, because he's hurting just as much; after all, the guy he loves hates him, and that's just as bad as loving someone who's in love with someone else.
"Oh. Then who was wailing?"
"I might have been for all I know," Santana retorts snappily. She stands up and dusts her skirt of any dust from the floor. She then brushes past the blonde, aiming to leave.
"Santana, wait! We can walk to our cars together like we used to do…" Brittany begins, but Santana stiffens. She spins on her heel and faces the blonde, and Brittany stops dead, looking taken aback. And all because of the scary face Santana has on. Brittany has never seen a face that scary before.
"Why can't you just leave me alone? You already broke my heart, you bitch! Why can't you just leave me be so that I can heal…?" And she's shattering all over again, the tears coming up and spilling out. She hates being such a crybaby; she sobs when she's upset about anything, and it's only amplified when she's drunk. She hates it.
"Santana, please… Please stop being mad at me. I told you the truth, but you're mad at me. I don't like it when you're mad at me. You've been the only real friend I've ever had, and I don't want to lose you," Brittany relays truthfully as she steps closer and takes Santana's hands in hers. Santana's hands are oddly cold, and they feel limp, as if she didn't have any strength. She offers a small smile. "Come on, Santana… sing something. It'll make you feel better."
The brunette shakes her head mutely. The only song on her mind is 'Near To You' by A Fine Frenzy. She could sing it perfectly if she weren't crying and if the lyrics didn't apply so much to her. She pulls out of her best friend's grasp and seems to fold in on herself as she hunches over where she stands, her hands flying to her chest.
"Stop it, Brittany! Just… stop," she murmurs, and she turns and runs, but Brittany – lost, hurt, unsure – dashes after her.
"Santana! Sany, please! Wait!"
Kurt knows. Finn seems to know something, too, after the looks he kept sending today. And Dave was humming 'Hey Jude' to himself earlier, and it felt almost cruel the way things keep revolving around the sorrow in Santana's life. She only wants it all to end.
Brittany catches up to Santana as the brunette runs out of steam and slows near the end of the hallway. In the adjacent hallway, a janitor with headphones in mops a floor. He doesn't pay them any mind, doesn't notice or care as Brittany clings to Santana, turns her around, and kisses her full on the mouth.
"Sany, I never want to stop being your friend. I don't like it when you run away from me. And most of all, I miss your sweet lady kisses. So… stop being sad, okay? I love you, I do. And… Artie knows. He told me just today that I better fix things with you because he can see how much I mean to you, and he knows that you mean a lot to me, too. He told me that he loves me but that I'm a birdie that needs to fly or something, and that he has to let me go. It sounded like of like a movie to me, but it made sense. So you'll be okay now, right?" Brittany says in a rush, her blue eyes crystallizing with tears and her voice wavering in its soft volumes as she laces her fingers in between Santana's.
That's the most sentimental, coherent thing Brittany has ever said.
Santana sniffs and smiles oddly. "Yeah. Yeah, I can be all right now. Thank you, Brittany. And I might have to thank Artie, too, that stupid, amazing nerd."
Brittany giggles and taps under Santana's chin. "There's the Sany I know. Now, um. Can we walk back to our cars together? I always get lost when I try to find mine."
"But Britt, there should only be, like, two cars left in the student parking lot: yours and mine."
"…I'll still get lost."
"Fine, I'll help you, then. Come on," she says, and she offers her elbow, of which Brittany links with hers. As they walk, Brittany rests her head on Santana's shoulder, and she feels like everything should be all right.
Now, if only Santana could find a way to fix poor Dave Karofsky.…