A/N This chapter is pretty heavy. Some trigger warnings for the death of a family member. Other than that, every else should be alright but keep in mind that Brittana is endgame :) I'm sorry it took so darn long. But I just couldn't write, couldn't squeeze anything out of my head.
StephaniieC - I'm sorry for the delay :(
Blueskkies - I will try to lengthen the next chapter!
Guest (8 Feb) - Angry Santana is a scary Santana.
sei-mobius - I apologize.
Guest (May 17) - I may, or may not change the way I write but I don't have time to edit the entire story. It's either you suck it up and wait, or don't read at all.
southerncomfortzone - Thank you :) Here's an update!
Guest (June 22) - I really appreciate that :)
Guest 2 (June 22) - Update!
luceroadorada - Hopefully it's not disappointing!
Chapter 8: Confession
You are awakened by the gentle giggles. The bright stream of sunshine causes you to squint your eyes as it adjusts to the morning light. The giggle catches your attention again, and you notice the curtain of blonde hair falling around your face. Said blonde scrunched her face as she smiles. The gesture causes your lips to curl into a smile.
"Good morning." Her voice awakens you from your sleep haze. She's smiling, and you swear you don't mind laying there forever, listening to her voice.
"Santana."
You furrow your brows, because the voice doesn't fit anymore. It sounds more like-
"SANTANA!"
You jerk awake, shutting your eyes immediately when the sunlight shining into your room gets too glaring. "Shit." Your head spun and you grabbed the sheets of your bed to try to curb the dizziness.
"You looked creepy as hell smiling in your sleep, S."
You sigh as your vision slowly returns to normal before you turned to face Quinn. "Thanks for the wakeup call."
"You're welcome." She pulls out her iPad and scans the notes on the screen. "Apparently you booked a 'Me' slot so I suppose I'm not supposed to be following you. But that's okay, I have my own plans to. But before that, shall we go get lunch?"
You yawn and stretches your hand above your head, trying to awaken the stiff muscles of your body before replying. "Gladly."
"How can I be of assistance, Captain?" Brittany addresses her superior as she stands before his desk.
"Take a seat." Captain Stephen motions to the one-seater where Brittany is standing behind. While waiting for Brittany to get comfortable, Stephen pulls out a document and places it before Brittany.
As Brittany scans the contents of the document, the Captain starts talking. "I will be assigning Detective Chang Jr. a new partner. You have been assigned to go undercover in Las Vegas to deal with the man in the document."
On the document, a picture of named man, Hunter Clarington, stares back at the detective. Brunette, with a nice face frame and smart-looking, he seems like a man who can get away with anything.
"Hunter Clarington, head of the Hunter family that is slowly rising up the ladder in Las Vegas. Their family operates the widely known casino. Though the casino runs on legal means, their undercover operations are causing some troubles even for us. You are to go and infiltrate their family. Everything have been prepared for you."
Brittany's gaze flickers to the Captain for a moment before it goes back to Hunter's profile. "I have no say in this, do I?"
"I'm afraid so, Detective."
"When do I have to leave?" Brittany sighs.
"Two days from now should be sufficient for you. Your duties here have been cleared and further instructions will be given when you arrive in Las Vegas. " Captain Stephen answers. "That is all, you may leave."
The detective stands up and exits the office without much of a glance back. The precinct busied with policemen bustling around, filing their paperwork and grabbing their printed documents off the printer before rushing back to their desks. Nobody pays her any attention as she shuffles along the narrow spaces in between desks with her shoulders slumped.
The new mission assigned to her would force her to leave her life, in New York City, behind. Rain clouds looms above as she steps out of the precinct, casting a grey gloom overhead. She pulls her coat tighter around herself as cold wind whips her face.
Flowing along with the hasty crowd, Brittany makes her way across the street with a location in mind.
You grab your coat off the rack and throws it over your shoulder before exiting your room. Sam greets you as you descend from the stairs, receiving a smile from you in return. "Santana."
"Good morning, Sam." You respond.
Finn approaches from behind and hands you a bouquet of flowers. "I'm really bad with flowers so hopefully the florist got me the correct ones."
You give him an appreciative smile and takes the flowers from him. "Good morning, and thank you, Finn. The flowers are lovely."
He lowers his gaze and scratches his head shyly, glad that he got the correct bouquet. "So… should we head out?"
You give a nod, allowing Finn to head for the car while Sam follow behind. Finn opens the door for you before sliding into the driver's seat, leaving Sam to close the door after you.
Both men are silent, neither knowing what to say as the car slowly makes its way out onto the main streets of New York City. You hate awkward silences. It hangs in the air with tension and you dislike the whole stiff atmosphere. "Tell me about your family."
Their eyes widen in surprise at your question, but neither of them speaks up.
"Finn, you go first." You prompts.
"Uh…" He stutters, his gaze meets yours through the rear-view mirror for a second before focusing back on the streets as he manoeuvres through the different roads. "I am brought up by a single father, and I'm an only child. My dad works at an automobile shop."
"I know who is in your family." You've seen their profiles, you've checked up on all of them on the first day you met them. But what you want to know was, how are their families coping, or if they are facing any difficulties. "I want to know if there's anything happening that may require extra attention."
He clears his throat and straightens up in his seat. "No. Dad said he prefers to work at the automobile shop rather than sitting at home. He says it helps him work off all the extra calories he ingested."
Accepting his answer, you redirect the attention to Sam. "What about you, Sam?"
"I used to be financially burdened but after joining the Lopez, I'm doing much better, thank you." Sam goes straight to the point.
"What do you guys want to have for lunch?"
Their brows furrow at the hundred and eighty change of conversation topic but flow along with it. It doesn't take long before you arrive at your destination.
"Do you want us to come with you?" Sam asks
"I'll very much prefer to be alone, thank you."
"As you wish. If anything happens, just shout for us. But we'll be keeping a lookout, nevertheless." Sam smiles and gives a slight nod as he passes you the bottle of liquor you've requested for the day before.
You take the items and walks towards the mass of headstones.
"Te echo de menos, Mami, Papi. Papi, are you happy with Mami? I hope you are." You set the bouquet of flowers in front of your mother's tombstone before sitting down on the patch of grass before their tombs. Your father had specially instructed that his tomb be placed beside your mother's when he dies. "I bought orchids for you. Hopefully it is the same one that Papi got you every time he visits. I even searched up the meaning of the flower. Silly, huh?" You chuckle softly to yourself.
"It has been one month since you left us, Papi. I'm still adapting. Uncle Will, Aunt Emma and Holly are really great. Quinn and I had went around negotiating deals that you planned. Most of them went great. Though some ended pretty brutally. I hope you're not angry that I made the decision to take over instead of living a quiet life without violence." You grab your bag and pull out a cigar and a cigar cutter. You clip the cigar before lighting it with the Zippo that never left your side since the day you found it in your father's room. When the cigar lit up, you place it before your father's tombstone and watch the smoke rise before dissipating into the air. The smell is comforting, reminding you of your deceased father. "I'm sorry I went all ape shit on Brown's family on impulse. It felt like something in me snapped and I just had to do what I did. I wasn't thinking. But at least, I'm alive, right?"
Sam and Finn both lit up a cigarette each as they lean against the car, puffing away on the stick between their fingers. Sam's eyes scans the area every now and then to ensure that nobody is going to sneak up on Santana as she spends some much needed time with herself. Santana is far enough not to be heard but they can still keep sight of her.
"Sorry Mami. You must have been jumping around with rage when you saw me barging into their territory and cringed so badly when I got whopped by the butt of the rifle one of their man carried. But I got him good." You smile, a little proud of being able to hold yourself against men sized larger than you. "I'm not sure if you like this, Mami, but Papi used to drink this all the time." You pop the bottle of liquor and pour a stream of wine over the stone tablet of your father before you take a swig of the alcohol, grimacing at the taste. "Yuck, Papi. How could you have liked this? I shouldn't be drinking too much since I have some other errands to run later but I guess that's okay. The taste repels me."
"Quinn is fine. She have been strong for me. Like, really strong, Papi. She always make sure that I'm not doing anything stupid and stands by me all the time. I don't know what I would do without her." You said as you pour a slug of the bottled wine over the soil and watch as it bubbles away. "I want to continue what you've left off, Papi. Let them know the great person you are, and for people to respect the Lopez. The familia is great. Some hitches here and there but it'll be sorted out soon."
Noticing the familiar blonde that is entering the cemetery, Sam pushes himself off the car and is about to stalk off in the similar direction before Finn pulls him back. When given the look of question, Finn merely shakes his head.
The sound of crunching leaves makes you whip your head around. You're not sure if you're bothered by the presence when you're talking to your parents (or yourself), or you're amused at the sight before you. Your brows furrow but there's no disdain nor contempt in your eyes.
"If it isn't the famous Santana Lopez."
"Hello to you too, detective." You watch as she steps beside you and lower herself to put a bouquet of sunflowers before the tombstone next to your parents'. "A mafia couple beside a deceased person related to a cop. I think my Papi is jumping in rage for being placed here." You joke.
"I'm pretty sure my brother is fuming with angst too." She cracks a slight smile and you mimic her expression.
You're not really sure where the two of you stand. One day, you can be conversing with her without pointing the gun at each other. The next, you two are holding knifes against each other's throat. Maybe the atmosphere at the cemetery isn't the best to be fighting.
"Do your brother drink?" You offer the wine bottle and she shrugs, taking the bottle from you and takes a swig before pouring a generous stream before the tombstone.
"Hey, don't take advantage of my kindness. I bought that for my Papi."
"He says thanks." Brittany points to her brother's stone and you let a chuckle escape between your lips.
The two of you sat in silence for a while. It's comforting, really, to have somebody that knows you, but don't know you at the same time, to be your companion. Even if it's for a while, it doesn't hurts to have someone you're familiar with close. And what's more, it's Brittany, that blonde detective you had a dream about.
Despite the taste of the wine being against your taste buds, you take a second swig before waving it in the detective's direction. The liquid swish around the bottle as you shake it at her. She raises an eyebrow at you but takes the bottle and drinks from it, almost chugging down the contents.
"Watch it, detective. You don't want to get drunk in a cemetery." She passes you back the bottle and you watch her face contort in disgust at the taste.
"A few mouthfuls wouldn't hurt." You catches the twinge of sadness laced in her tone. And for some reason, her eyes seem pretty empty. You wonder for a second if your eyes are the same, dull and lifeless, because you're in a cemetery talking to your loved ones as if they're still alive. You find it pretty pathetic, but you don't care. A month crazy mafia activities is making you edgy and you miss your parents, even though Will and Emma try to fill the gap left by your parents, there are still cracks where they can't seal.
You sit in long lapses of silence with the blonde before you pour the last of the content in the bottle into the grass between your Papi's and whoever that is related to the detective's tombstone. "They can share."
"Thanks," she chuckles for a moment, before the both of you are back to sitting in silence.
"How have you been?" You break the silence.
"Do I look like I'm unwell?" She questions your question.
You raise your eyebrow in amusement. "Are you always so…" You let the question trail away, unable to formulate a proper response to her answer.
She chuckles and leans back, her hands propped on the floor to support her upper body. "It depends."
"Why did you let me go that day?" You turn towards her, minimizing the little space in between both of you as you turned.
"I do what I want, and I don't play by some of the rules." She shrugs, as if it answer all the questions in your head.
Finn and Sam are watching, you know that. You can't get too close. But you can't help wanting to eliminate the spaces between the both of you. "Are you sure that's the only reason?" You challenge.
She meets your challenging gaze and holds it as she shifts closer to you.
The proximity between the both of you is so close that each breath she breathes out is hitting against your skin, sending tingles down your spine as you try to ignore the palpitation of heartbeat against your chest. Her eyes are closed as she takes several more breaths, her nose nudging the space beside yours with each breath she takes.
"Let's take a timeout." Finn suggests as he turns away from where Santana is and enters the car. Sam follows and slides into the passenger seat.
"Do you think there's anything going on between them?" Sam turns to face Finn with a slightly panicked expression.
"Hopefully not."
The time seems to have slowed until she speaks up.
"The lines have blurred to gray so many times that I've lost count. I've grayed the lines since the day I let you go after you've shot a dozen of Brown's henchmen. I've grayed the lines when I saw you and instead of taking you back to the precinct, I fixed your darn tie. I've grayed the lines when I talk to you as if you aren't one of the most wanted women in New York. But you," the blonde detective huffs, making your heart do all sorts of acrobatics stunts in your chest. You force yourself not to take a shift away as she continues. Her every exhale hits your face and you stare into those blue eyes that bore into yours. You notice how her jaw visibly clenches before letting out a huff of air. "You distorted the light shade of gray we've treaded with the words you've just said."
She swallows, her eyes seemingly calling out to you. You refuse to break eye contact. You want to hear what she have to say and you want to know the answers to the unasked questions that she holds the response to. "I've learnt to love the shades of gray."
Your heart do a shimmy of happiness at her response as you try to contain your smile.
"But I can't."
You feel your heart stop for a beat, before it starts beating in a much slower pace. The pounding of heartbeats gone, the excitement that have built up died with a fizz. Your expression remains unchanged as she slowly opens her eyes and slowly inch away from you. Her eyes met yours and you force yourself to hold it together, at least until she's out of sight.
She opens her mouth to speak but closes it at a second thought, letting out a sigh instead. Without any explanation, she stands and brushes off the leaves stuck to her jeans before walking away.
You let her go like her words didn't mean anything and watches her as she walks away from you. You couldn't say a single word, fearing that your trembling voice will give you out. The view of her back starts getting farther away and you watch her go, with the pointless hope that she may look back.
The three words keep replaying in your mind, taunting you. If you've known, you wouldn't have worn your heart on the sleeve. With a sigh, you blink back the tears that are threatening to spill and the moment her figure faded into nothing, you let the tears silently escape from your eyes. The sky overhead is covered in grey and clouds with not a shred of blue to be seen.
Brittany sighs. She won't deny that there's something going on between the both of you, and she didn't. She admitted it, even. Her heart weighs heavy as she makes her way out of the cemetery, leaving you behind.
Red.
Blue.
Sirens.
The faint beeps of a weak heart.
Every labored breath he took fogged the oxygen mask.
Beep.
Brittany clasped his hand tightly in hers as the paramedics worked around her. Gauges stained with blood replace one after another. Towels stained red.
Beep.
Brittany couldn't hear a word they said as they continued what they were trained to do. All Brittany heard was the siren wailing to clear the traffic for a smoother emergency ride.
"We're losing him!"
But Brittany heard nothing. She simply squeezed tighter, trying to stimulate her brother's dulling senses. He didn't budge. The slowing rhythm of beeping changed into one with prolonged silence.
"Charge the defibrillator."
First shock.
He didn't react.
Second shock.
No reaction.
Third shock.
He's motionless.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
"How is he?!"
Brittany's face remained lowered. She had no answer for the question her dad just asked.
"Brittany Susan Pierce!" He bellowed.
But she didn't flinch. She lifted her face up and stared at him, eyes voided of emotions. "I don't know." Slowly, she turned her head to the door where they were trying to save her brother. The lights for the emergency room was still on.
"Oh dear." Her mother choked out as she took a seat beside Brittany. Wordlessly, she wrapped her hands around Brittany and pulled her into her side. She kissed the side of her head and uttered, "it's going to be okay."
Brittany's throat tightened at her mother's words and that was all it took for the tears to fall. She sobbed and her mother rubbed her hands up and down Brittany's arm, cooing that it would be alright as she tried to stay strong for Brittany. But her strong front didn't last long because moments later, both of them were crying into each other's arms.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
She didn't know how long has passed but she woke up with her head on her mother's lap. Her mother was scratching her head gently, like how she always did when Brittany was younger. Brittany heard her mother sniffed. Her own emotions were on a roller coaster ride and she didn't know if she could be the emotional support her mother needed right then. So she closed her eyes and tuned everything out, letting her mother's gentle affection lull her back into sleep again.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
The sound of the door opening stirred Brittany from her sleep. She was no longer resting her head on her mother's lap. A folded jacket rest below her head as cushion on the grey hospital chair. She sat up and rubbed the dried crust off her eyes, trying to focus her vision. She saw the subtle shake of head from the doctor before her mother went limp.
Move.
Her legs wouldn't budge. She watched as her father caught her mother and the doctor rushing forth to support her as well.
She swallowed the bitterness that welled in her throat, clamping her jaws tightly together to force her emotions down.
The squeaks of sneakers finally reached her ears. The world suddenly seemed to have paled as doctors and nurses in white uniforms rushed around. Trolleys topped with equipment were pushed hurriedly through the hallways to another room. But none of it mattered anymore.
Nothing could change the fact that her brother died that night.
