"Do you believe in soul mates?" Santana asked Brittany as they sat on the windowsill of Brittany's room looking out up at the stars.
Brittany turned to look at Santana, feeling her blue eyes on her Santana turned her head, their eyes met.
"I believe in you" Brittany said, behind the smile on her face was pure happiness.
As the cold metal pierced her smooth skin, a small rich red bubble of blood appeared, tears continued to fall onto her arm, blurring her vision, she tightened her grip on the handle, and taking a small unsteady breath she dragged the knife further towards her. A groan escaped her lips as the excruciating pain rippled through her arm making her toes curl. She released the knife from her death grip, letting it drop to the floor, clamping a hand over her arm she screamed. Her warm blood soaked her hand, dripping perfect drops of red rain all over the bed and floor. I deserve to die she thought to herself, as she curled up on the bed, clutching her arm to her chest. Or maybe, a life of complete loneliness would be worse.
Santana's cried out at the thought of living the rest of her life without Brittany. It was too much. She would not be able to live with the guilt and the pain for the rest of her life, but maybe, just maybe that's what she deserved.
"Everything will be okay San" Brittany smiled reassuringly at Santana, her long golden locks were almost sparkling in the sunlight.
"How are you so certain of everything?" the brunette picked at the long green grass, looking up at Brittany the sun caught her eyes, making her squint to see her clearly.
"Optimism" Brittany said and gave a little shrug "and magic"
Santana sighed, a small smile stretched across her face.
"Bad things happen to good people all the time" Brittany slid her fingers through the grass towards Santana's hand "but only the ones who believe in magic will get through it"
"Am I magic Britt?" Santana looked at Brittany's hand still smiling; she stretched her hand out to touch Brittanys but was short a few centimeters, she leaned forward to grab Brittany's hand but she still couldn't reach, a frustrated look crossed her face as she looked up at Brittany who simply smiled.
"Of course you are Santana" she said, the bright glare of headlights suddenly filled her eyes, Brittany's high pitched shriek echoed through Santana's head, pulling her out of her sleep.
"No!" she screamed desperately, sitting up quickly she could feel her heart was pounding in her chest, her hand was still clamped over her arm, removing it she studied the dry blood all over her hand and the perfect slice that ran half way down her right forearm. A familiar feeling of melancholy flooded through Santana. She couldn't stop having these dreams, sliding off the bed she walked into the bathroom, leaning her left arm on the sink she sighed, her eyes fixating on the small pill container. The medication that was supposed to be relieving her depression were not working, they gave her dreams, dreams about Brittany, and when she woke up to realize they were just dreams, it would just make her more depressed.
With one swift hand movement she knocked them off the side of the sink, they rattled as they hit the floor, the top coming off and scattering the pink tablets across the white tiles.
Turning the shower on she caught a glance of herself in the mirror, she barely recognized herself.
Her face looked gaunt, her skin had paled, her eyes were red and puffy from endless days and nights of crying, her dark hair hung limply around her face. She looked away, feeling fragile and broken, slipping out of Brittany's clothes she stepped into the shower, the hot water ran over her skin, she scrubbed the blood off her hand and wiped it away from around her cut.
Letting the water run over her, she shut her eyes, Brittany's scream filled her head. It was like a never ending montage of the crash every time she shut her eyes. Opening them again quickly, she washed her hair and ran soap over herself. Memories of all the showers she had taken with Brittany filled her mind. The soft touch of Brittany's hands running over her body, the kisses she would place along Santana's neck and shoulder, the tinkle of her laughter when they blew soap bubbles at each other, she leaned back against the shower wall staring at the water as it fell like her tears, her life seemed like a hole of darkness that she would never be able to escape again.
Stepping out of the shower she wrapped a towel around herself and went back into the bedroom, she pulled on some more of Brittany's clothes, enclosing herself in her sweet scent that Santana knew oh so well. Looking around the room, photo albums and memories were scattered all over the bed and floor, and every other flat surface there was. She grabbed the knife from the middle of the bed; it looked out of place among all the smiles and happy memories, she went back into the bathroom and tossed it into the sink, not bothering to wash her blood off.
Deciding to take a drive, Santana grabbed her keys and silently moved through Quinn's apartment.
Quinn had collected her from the hospital that day, and she had been staying here for two weeks now.
Rachel had taken up residence also, since Brittany's funeral just over a week ago; they took turns with Santana, looking after her like she was an infant. They argued over her like a married couple, it was obvious there was something going on between them, but Santana didn't want to comment.
Quinn had given Santana the spare key to her car, since hers was now just a pile of crushed metal. She and Rachel were both out; this would be the first time Santana had left the house since the funeral.
Driving down the road Santana knew where she would end up, she was subconsciously already going in the right direction. And she was right, 15 minutes later she pulled over to the side of the main road.
A white cross was pinned to a road sign; dozens of colorful flowers were placed carefully all around it. The unmistakable 8 lettered name was printed down the cross. A tall slim figure stood infront of the display with her back to the road, a cascade of sunshine blonde hair fell halfway down her back. Frowning, Santana pushed the door open and slowly got out of the car, unsure of whether she was dreaming or not, she didn't move her eyes off the familiar blonde.
"Brittany?" she said softly, her heart skipped a beat as the tall blonde turned around, sky blue eyes filled with tears looked back at her. Santana opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. She didn't know what to think, this was completely impossible.
"Santana" the blonde finally spoke, struggling to get just one word out, and brushing a stray piece of hair from her eyes she moved closer to Santana.
"B-Brittany" Santana repeated and furrowed her brow, not knowing how else to respond as the blonde moved closer shaking her head.
"No" she said placing her hands on Santana's shoulders, registering the confused look on the Latinas face she added "Santana, its Stella"
Stella. The name repeated in Santana's mind. Stella. Stella Pierce. Brittany's younger sister.
"Right" exhaling shakily Santana nodded "I'm sorry" she said looking at Stella, she was almost an exact replica of Brittany; they were roughly the same height with a beautiful body of a dancer, they had the same sparkle in their eyes, the same fair skin, and Stella sounded exactly like Brittany had when she was 14.
"Shhhh, it's fine" Stella said softly pulling Santana into a hug.
"You look so much like her" Santana mumbled wrapping her arms around Stella tightly.
"I'm so sorry" she continued, fighting against another wave of tears "I'm so freaking sorry"
Stella's body started shaking a little in her arms; she buried her head in Santana's neck muffling her sobs. Looking over Stella's shoulder, Santana took one look at the cross and felt her heart shatter even more than it already was. Letting Stella cry against her she rubbed her back comfortingly; a single tear escaped and slipped down her cheek. The 14 year old had every right to hate Santana's gut for getting her sister killed, but for some reason she didn't, she treated her like a member of the family. Stella was like Brittany in so many ways it almost hurt to look at her. Shutting her eyes Brittany's voice filled her head.
"Santana, it hurts. Santana, please help me, please" her voice begged "it hurts."
Opening her eyes to get rid of the haunting voice, she kept her arms tightly around Stella as she looked at the road. Cars passed them, people giving sympathetic looks, some people not even noticing, or knowing. To some it was just another road where another unnecessary accident took a life. But to Santana it was the place where a beautiful, innocent soul was taken, a ray of sunshine was lost, and a place where a part of her died.