A/N: Hi everyone! Sorry for the delay; as many of you know, my computer is being so charm. Thankfully though I was able to write this on my bestie's Mac. A round of applause, prease!
So this chapter covers 5.04/5.05. Thanks to everyone who read or reviewed last chapter- I'm really glad it was able to help some of you deal with the bullshit that is Glee. I hope this story will continue to do that for all of you as it progresses. I'm here till the bitter end, folks!
Happy angst-ing!
I'll be the one if you want me to
Anywhere, I would've followed you
And I am feeling so small
I know nothing at all
Sometimes, Santana wonders if decisions she makes are real. After all, decisions can always be undone, can't they? If you make a bad decision, you simply make another decision to fix it. Nothing is set in stone- not life, not homes, and certainly not relationships-
So Kurt started a Madonna cover band? Brittany laughs disbelievingly from her place across the room. Madonna?
I know- I expected it to be Pink, too, or at the very least, Cher. Maybe even showtunes. Does he not remember Madonna week in Glee Club? Santana agrees, picking at the tape of a sealed box that sits beside her on the bed.
It's drawing closer to summer, which means Brittany has finally made the move to Boston. Santana had dropped everything in an instant to volunteer to help Brittany move in to her new apartment. After the Pierces had unloaded the UHAUL, Santana was left to help Brittany with the unpacking while they made the long drive back to Lima. (Santana still remembers the warm hugs she'd received from them, the knowing smiles, and it made her heart twist with guilt, because, because, because-)
Who's even in the band? Isn't Blaine Warbler still in Lima until graduation? Brittany asks, zipping open her suitcase to start unpacking her clothes.
Santana laughs at the assumption that Blaine would be the only one who'd be excited about a Madonna cover band. Yeah, we held auditions and only one guy showed up- he's totally fine and totally keeps making the sex eyes at Kurt. Berry said she didn't have time, but of course she showed up at the last minute-
Of course, Brittany agrees with a small smile.
And then there's me and D- uh. Santana bites her lip, hesitating.
Brittany nods, noticing her awkward pause, but doesn't say anything about it. She falls quiet as she unpacks the clothes from her suitcase, folding them neatly and placing them in her simple, issued dresser.
Santana's heart pounds at her slip, and she feels guilt overwhelming her again, because, because, because-
She still hasn't told Brittany.
She finally peels the tape off of the box in front of her, and as she opens the flaps, her thoughts race as she debates what she should say, because she has to say something, she can't leave the conversation the way it is, not like this.
She feels guilty, but not about Dani- even though Kurt and Rachel gave her knowing looks when she said she was going away for the weekend. She does feel guilty about Brittany- she can't tell her, not yet. Dani's not even important enough to tell Brittany about yet. Santana's not even sure that she likes Dani enough to keep her around, especially not with the way things are going with Brittany. She's missing that excitement she's used to. She's missing that joy that came with the knowledge that she was finally, finally dating Brittany, with ordering shrimp. She doesn't feel joyful about being with Dani. (Every moment spent with Dani reminds her that she's missing someone else.)
Truthfully, she wasn't enthusiastic about being in the band- it meant more time with Dani, more time bringing her into her family- Kurt and Rachel- and she didn't want that. It makes it harder to escape when she's ready to end things with her, when things start to get too serious, too real.
(She can't give Dani real.)
But she couldn't tell Dani that. So when Kurt looked at her expectantly, and Dani was all in, what could she really do?
Being called babe was new- Brittany only ever called her honey, or baby, but never babe. She's not sure she likes the sentiment; it feels foreign. But Dani using baby or honey would feel even more wrong, would make things seem even more real, so she allows it.
(She can't give Dani real.)
Santana reaches into the box and pulls out a stack of picture frames, setting them on the bed, and feels an ache in her chest. Despite Brittany being closer- since Boston is closer to New York than Lima is- she feels farther from her. Moving Brittany into a space feels wrong, somehow- it unsettles her, and her heart can't grasp why Brittany's moving someplace that isn't with her. It makes her sad, makes her sick, even though she knows it's just temporary, that is has to be this way right now.
But it's still not how she pictured their lives.
She thought they'd have started their lives together by now- that Brittany would be by her side in New York, studying journalism or filmmaking and working a part-time job teaching dance to kids, and she'd be doing what she's doing but with Brittany, with the sun lighting up her life, and they'd share a room, and be happy and smiling and real.
(She can't give Dani real.)
Her eyes drop to the next thing in the box- a stuffed animal that she'd won Brittany on their Senior skip day, and her chest feels as if a hole has been punched through it. Tears well up in her eyes, and she feels her throat constricting. This isn't how their lives are supposed to be. She wants to tell Brittany to stop- to pack up her clothes again because she's coming with her to New York, she's coming home-
But she looks up, and sees Brittany holding an MIT sweatshirt, and her words die on her tongue.
Brittany looks as if she's about to say something, but Santana can't look at her. She feels like the walls are closing in, she feels stifled, she feels guilty, she feels angry, she feels-
Brittany cups her cheek softly. Hey.
Santana swallows. She calms. Hey. Her eyes soften, and Brittany smiles gently at her before she leans forward and kisses her, her lips just barely grazing Santana's.
It's not enough.
Santana kisses her back harder, and they fall onto Brittany's new bed, landing on top of random belongings of hers; a picture frame pokes her in the thigh and a quick glance spared at it reveals it's a picture of the two of them laughing, their cheeks pressed together, and Santana's guilt resurfaces tenfold.
She kisses Brittany fiercely, willing away her sadness, willing away her guilt, willing away her regret and her fear and her longing, her lips turning desperate as she swallows Brittany's moans.
Brittany wraps arms around her, cants her hips up, buries fingers in her hair, and she shifts in response, slipping her thigh between Brittany's legs and giving her pressure where she needs it, reveling in the way their legs fit together- so unlike her and Dani.
They make out heatedly, and Santana lets her hands wander, reminding herself of what is real. She possessively strokes fingers over Brittany's stomach, moaning at the taut muscle she finds there; Dani is soft, Dani has curves, Dani is different, so different, and Brittany is all lean and firm and perfect.
Dani is short- their bodies don't fit, not the way her and Brittany's do. Santana misses the way she and Brittany matched up like puzzle-pieces, like yin and yang, like light and dark. (Every moment spent with Dani reminds her that she's missing someone else.)
Santana knows every shiver, every twitch, every breathy moan; it's familiar, it's home to her- she doesn't need anything else, doesn't want to know the tells of another girl, but she can't help comparing the two, and it makes her stomach twist; if she remembers Dani, will she forget Brittany? Is there room for both?
(Does the sun feel threatened by artificial light?)
As Brittany's body responds, unhindered, to Santana's touches, Santana is overcome by a desperate, possessive need to christen Brittany's new bed. She wants to be the first and the last (she knows she will be the last)- she wants to be the only, but she won't fool herself. For a split second she thinks about saying something, about telling Brittany to stop- to pack up her clothes again because she's coming with her to New York, she's coming home-
But Brittany's tongue curls around hers and she forgets how to breathe.
She rocks against Brittany, kissing her, stealing her breath, memorizing her moans and the way she writhes beneath her, cherishes the way she gasps Santana when she gets close, and the way her fingers clutch at her shoulders and back and hair when she finally comes.
She doesn't stop kissing her, though, doesn't stop pressing her body against her or insistently tugging at her clothes until they're both naked and tangled and breathing in the scent of each other's skin. Santana needs to know that Brittany's still real, even though she can't be with her.
(She is the best thing that's ever been mine.)
(She knows she will be the last.)
After her need calms down from a hurricane to a drizzle, when she's lying in Brittany's arms, fit together like puzzle pieces, like yin and yang, like dark and light, she traces her fingers over warm skin and actively focuses on the feeling, actively commits it to memory. She feels like she should say something, but she doesn't know what to say, and when Brittany squeezes her tighter to her chest, she knows she doesn't need to say anything. She looks up into blue eyes and searches, searches, searches.
She doesn't want to forget. She doesn't want to give up-
(I love her, but-)
Santana's made her decision. (She will never let Brittany go.)
Okay so this should've hopefully explained Santana's absence from 5.05, lololol. I had a completely different plot planned for this chapter revolving around 5.04, but then Glee went and fucked everything up like it always does, so I had to shift the order and it got moved to cover episode 5.07. 5.06 remains the same, and I should have it up this weekend!
Thanks for reading! Review if you feel like it. :) If not, well- see you next time, pals!
