[AN] So I've done a lot of thinking about how I'm going to continue this story in regards of the content in each chapter. Originally I planned to go into much detail as possible to create the right build-up between Santana and Brittany which meant no major time jumps. Then I decided to fiddle around with it in the last couple of chapters to try and get the story moving forward but I've decided that I'm going to stick with my original plan. I think every detail between the pair, especially with Brittany having her condition is important for the story and their relationship so you'll begin to it's back to basics. Also this chapter was going to be a lot longer but I've decided to chop it into two. I hope you enjoy part one and again, thanks for all of your reviews.

PS. Thank you so much for Bekah, my beta who has kindly agreed to help polish the story into shape. :)

CHAPTER X

We all have a hero in us. We all have that someone in our lives that we look up to and it's their strength that keeps our blood flowing and makes us hope that maybe one day we can find that strength in ourselves. These were the people who really taught us how to love, they taught us to find that one thing that we cherished in our hearts and to never give up fighting for it; even if it was impossible, there would always be worthiness in the end. At least you'd know that you didn't stop trying and that in itself made you a stronger person.

"Just like my papa always told me; King Robert Bruce of Scotland almost gave up fighting for his country against King Edward II of England." Brittany enthuses, almost shouting childishly in the back seat of her parents Jeep. "So when he took refuge in a cave with barely any hope left for victory, he found a spider in the corner..." Brittany trails her fingers across the car window, wiping away the condensation to draw out the image of a spider. Santana watches at the opposite end of the car with Brittany's parents listening with wide smiles in the front as they drive home from school.

"He watched as the spider tried to throw her web from one part of the cave to the other and watched as she failed six times." Brittany draws a six next to the spider and turns around to Santana to make sure she was listening. "Six times!"

"The King also fought against the English six times and failed. He told himself, if this spider failed a seventh, then he too would give up and surrender to King Edward. Isn't that right, Dad?" Brittany muses, locking her arms over the passengers seat and ruffling her father's short, fair hair.

"That's right, kiddo," He replies cheerfully with a Southern twang in his voice. Brittany was born and raised in Arizona but her father originally came from Louisiana and his quirky accent was one of the many traits that Brittany loved so much about him.

"Luckily for Robert, the spider succeeded on her seventh attempt and managed to finish spinning her web and King Bruce went on to defeating the English with his army in the epic Battle of Bannockburn. 5,000 men against 20,000 and they still won... Year 1314, yep!" Brittany nods with a grin. Santana rolls her eyes playfully and sighs. She loves seeing Brittany in such high spirits and for someone who was known to have a cold personality, it actually made her feel warm inside.

Brittany studies her artwork on the window pane before smudging the illustration out with her glove and rests her head on the glass. She closes her eyes for a moment and when she opens them, she finds Santana's hand resting idly on the middle seat and lets her gaze travel up to Santana's face, whose attention was fixated on the buildings rushing past by her side of the window. It was kind for her parents to offer Santana a ride home, seeing as they were neighbours and Brittany takes it as a moment to reflect on what they had shared in the past weekend. Her mind automatically blanks out the incident from the party and instead, she remembers the part afterwards. The part where they both said I love you. Love was a strong word and Brittany was definitely aware of what it was but how could she feel it? Or was it something she could see? What made it so easy for Brittany, the girl who spent all her life building a wall around herself, to come out and confess that she felt the same way as Santana? How could she ever know what Santana was feeling?

Was it the way Santana looked? The way her silk, raven hair bounced in loose ringlets down her back so perfectly that Brittany just wanted to brush her hand through and feel how soft it was. Was it the way those dark, smoky eyes lit up whenever she said something to make Santana feel good about herself? Just like the way they light up now as she stares out of the window. It's as if she blocks out all the heartache so easily. Was it the way her dark olive skin glowed all the time and the way her cheeks turned pink as the cold air kissed her face? Maybe it was her lips and the way her tongue glided across them from time to time or the way she gripped her bottom lip between her teeth whenever she was deep in thought like she's doing now. Her laugh was also contagious; and that smile, the one she's giving Brittany right at this moment when she catches Brittany looking at her with a toothy grin. The sun is setting and the light is capturing Santana's face perfectly in this moment, every feature that Brittany loves so much about her is enhanced and it takes her breath away.

"Are you an angel?" Brittany whispers, clearly infatuated. Santana's cheeks burn pink again as she tries to stifle a huge smile and turns her attention to the front of the car where Grace's eyes meet her own in the rear view mirror. Santana quickly snaps away and clears her throat to shake off any obvious shenanigans that may have been happening in the back seat between the girls. She redirects her attention back outside and watches as they pull up into their neighbourhood.

"Mom... Mom. Are we having dinner together? Are we having dinner like Christmas dinner early 'cause dad's home? Is the family around? Mom. Wha-what about Grandma, is she here?" The excitement in Brittany's voice causes her parents and Santana to laugh lightheartedly as they exit the car after pulling up into their drive.

"Well, the good thing honey, about tearing your ligaments and having a clean break in your leg is having over a month's leave. So we can have Christmas dinner on Christmas Day, pumpkin," her father chortles. Santana watches Brittany take her father's hand under her mitten and squeeze it before he returns the gesture. The family walks around to their front lawn but Santana stands awkwardly on the sidewalk before Brittany's father turns around and meets her gaze with friendly blue eyes that are the same oceanic shade as Brittany's.

"I've heard much about you, Santana. It means a lot that you've taken our daughter under your wing, she needs someone like that, so thank you," he says appreciatively and Santana responds shyly by shrugging her shoulders and kicking the gravel beneath her feet.

"It's my pleasure, sir."

"Please, call me James." He winks, before spinning around to his wife and firmly plants a kiss up on her cheek.

"My dad's home," Brittany gushes out, absolutely elated with her fathers return. Grace pulls away for a moment before walking up the pathway back to Santana and takes her by the arm.

"Thank you so much for keeping this surprise, I knew you were excited about James returning home for Brittany." Grace expresses much gratitude with her words as they both watch Brittany as she playfully punches and kicks her father on the lawn. "He really was her best friend when she was growing up." Santana had learned of James' upcoming arrival on Sunday evening.

Santana had showed up on her porch the night before, hoping to see Brittany before school started the next day but Grace explained that her daughter was already fast asleep. It wasn't a surprise then for Santana to hear that Brittany had been acting 'off' for the remaining part of the weekend. Brittany had nothing to say at all on Sunday and mostly just stared into space with furrowed eyebrows as if a million and one thoughts were rushing by in her head. She refused to eat anything more than a shred of lettuce and she even made a fuss when she had to take her medication.

"I don't know what's gotten into her. She didn't even say goodnight to me, or even a good morning for that matter," Grace sighed heavily at her porch door. Santana didn't know what to say; she figured that Brittany might have told her the truth but here Grace was, completely oblivious to the fact that her daughter had experienced meltdown 2.0 the night before. "It's almost like she's back to acting the way she did after the incident at her previous school," she mused.

Santana just held her breath, fighting whether to say something or not but if Brittany wanted that kind of news to get out, she would have told her mother already. Then again, she only had her parents to rely on when Brittany lived in Arizona but now she had Santana too. "Thank god her father's coming home tomorrow. I'm going to try and convince her to stay home from school so he can surprise her when he returns. Then she'll definitely have that smile back on her face."

"No!" Santana snapped, causing Grace to look at her quizzically. As much as Santana had the best intentions for Brittany, if she was going to walk around school the next day with the world watching her back, she couldn't do it alone and if that made Santana selfish, then so be it. "I mean, wouldn't it be more of a surprise if his return was the last thing she expected? I'll take her to school. I'll be with her in Biology for last period and he can show up there and then and it'll be awesome," she planned, nodding.

"Would the school even allow that?" Grace scratched her chin in doubt but Santana just shrugged like it was no big deal.

"Totally! It's like, all over Youtube and stuff, it happens all the time." Santana reassured her. Grace just sighed, then nodded in agreement.

"Well, I guess she has been paying more attention to you lately so I'll take your word for it. But she can't know," Grace emphasised that last part to make herself more clear.

"She wont suspect a thing," Santana promised. After all, she was good a keeping secrets.

Santana looks at Brittany now who has a firm hold of her fathers waist and her head nuzzled into his chest and all she can do is smirk.

"Any time," Santana replies to Grace, clicking her tongue and looking around to her own house to try and guess if it was occupied or not.

"Listen, I would have loved if you'd join us for dinner, but it's been a long time since our family has been together, so maybe next time?" Grace apologises but Santana shakes her head as if to tell her not to be ridiculous.

"No, no. I completely understand. This is your family's time. I hope you all have a wonderful night. I got loads of homework I need to catch up on anyway," Santana replies, taking a couple of steps back. "but thank you, Grace. And it was lovely to meet you, James!" she shouts as the family makes their way over to their porch. Santana's eyes fall on Brittany last who cranes her neck back to glance Santana. Santana offers her a smile goodbye as a sweet gesture but Brittany separates herself from her father and runs back down the lawn. She stops when she reaches Santana and for a moment, nothing is exchanged but adoring looks.

"T-take... take my gloves," Brittany whispers and Santana frowns, confused but Brittany has already taken one off and begins to pull at her fingers of the other.

"Huh? Why?"

"It's gonna be cold out tonight. Cold like, zero degrees Celsius maybe. No clouds. Nope. Do you know if you're exposed t-to the cold at only zero degrees you can get frostbite? I.. I really don't want to get frostbite so I might need those later. B-but I do have heating, so.. so it kinda defeats the purpose but... I'll need those later." Brittany explains but Santana's face remains at a loss. Brittany begins to walk away before spinning around again. "Oh and Santana? You look real pretty today," she compliments, mimicking her father's Southern accent, causing Santana to come out of her confused state and responds with a dorky grin as she holds Brittany's mittens in her grip, whipped like Reddi Wip whipped cream.

'Shit.' she thinks to herself as she watches the Pierce family finally enter their home.

Santana sits in the lounge alone, staring at her homework, seeing the words for her assignment but being unable to process them. The house had been empty for the best part of the night and her mother was soon expected to return tired, stressed and undoubtedly in the most foul of moods. But Santana didn't care. All she could think about was how in a couple of days, she had become more of a school clown than Brittany. Sure, Brittany was a nobody, but after Santana's stunt with Puck and resigning from head captain of the Cheerios, Santana was the girl who everyone was talking about. Puck was the golden boy at school and once upon a time he and Santana were the golden couple but after the summer before senior year, the chemistry fizzled out and the gold turned to brass.

Santana was now the joke; Puck would rather get it on with a socially inept nobody with about as much sex appeal as a rubber fucking duck than even attempt to get with her again. Even when the duo were walking side by side down the hallways, most of the whispers were directed at Santana. "Did you see her get slushied?" "Did you hear she quit Cheerios?", "Sad, sad girl. Puck was right to dump her."

Somehow the news got out about Santana's mother finding the marijuana and people even went as far to say that she was having issues with a drug addiction and she was told to quit Cheerios to attend rehab. On the other hand, the worst that Brittany got was that nobody really cared for her in the first place and the only controversy was that she had been caught up in an unfortunate situation with Puck who was known for being the player. Even then, it was Puck who was getting judged the most and who was getting accused of taking advantage of an innocent drunk girl.

Santana buries her head in the couch pillow and growls out agitatedly. Who would have thought that she was the one to be pushed from her pedestal and even more, for her to bring it on herself. Yet on the brighter side, at least it wasn't Brittany. Santana twiddles her pen between her thumb and forefinger and begins to doodle on her assignment notes.

"Fuck history," she blurts out as she becomes more fidgety. Then she remembers the story that Brittany told her in the car on the way home and the way the students in the biology class all wore grins the moment Brittany and her father reunited. All they saw was a solider who fought for their country come home to be with his daughter. He was a hero to them; someone who inspired them and anyone could appreciate that, from the jocks all the way to that damn Glee club. The worst that could happen was if Brittany and Santana were to swap places and for Brittany to become the popular girl while Santana kept her head to the ground and received slushy facials everyday. Santana rolls her eyes at such an absurd thought and throws her book to the floor, causing it slap against the wood.

"I hope you're going to pick that up," a snarly voice says from behind her causing Santana to jump a couple of feet in the air.

"Jesus fucking Christ, mother, you almost killed me!" Santana yelps, clutching her chest as she peeks her head up from the couch.

"Language," Anita sighs, clacking her heels across the hall and dumping her bag at the bottom of the stairs. "How was cheer practice?"

Santana knew that the question was coming. Sadly, it was never 'How was school?' or 'How was your day?' The only thing Anita cared about was if her daughter was bringing in the trophies.

"Meh," Santana replies, picking up her books, ready to dash off into her room. "Don't want to talk about it." Santana can hear rattling from the kitchen as her mother rakes through cupboards for hell knows what and she takes it as an opportunity to leave without anything else needed to be said. As she crosses the bottom hallway, she catches a glimpse of her mother pouring a bottle of red wine into a glass and downing it greedily, causing her to stop in her tracks completely. She peeks from behind the doorway into the kitchen and watches her mother pour another one. Anita always had a couple of bottles on her when hosting dinner parties, but they were strictly for the guests only.

She hasn't taken a drink of alcohol ever since she missed her own daughter's performance at Nationals two years ago when she was too hungover to get out of bed. Santana watches as she gulps down the second glass. Then a third, and Santana can't help but feel a wave of disappointment wash over her.

"Momma, is that wine?" she asks. Of course it is but for some reason, she doesn't want to believe it.

"Yes, Santana. Is there a problem?" Anita sighs tiredly, spinning around with a fourth full glass in her hand to find Santana standing in the doorway.

"I just thought you had given up," Santana replies, her voice is monotonous and it only prooves that she feels let down.

"Yeah well, when you go out of your way, trying to gain financial status to create buzz and schmooze with old rich men with eyes bigger than their dicks then it can get very, very stressful," Anita retorts, swigging the last remains of the bottle.. Santana watches cautiously, wondering how long it would take for her behaviour to change as it always did. Sometimes her mother would become angry and other times extremely emotional. It's when she turns violent and begins to smash plates that Santana begins to worry.

"If you're trying for mayoral candidacy, isn't drowning your hard efforts with a bottle of red the last thing you should be doing?" Santana asks, clearly annoyed.

"Don't lecture me, Santana," Anita snaps. "I am your mother." God knows how many times Santana has heard that reasoning before. "It would be a lot more helpful on your part if you spend less time focusing on my career and more time on working to winning Nationals." Santana scoffs and shakes her head in disbelief.

"And what if I don't win Nationals, Mom. Then what am I going to do?" She replies. Anita spins the wine glass in her hand and laughs.

"Then you'll be nothing more than a failure to me." Anita replies, so easily and without any doubt present in the way she said it.

Santana holds in a breath as her mother's words sink in. She might as well have smashed the end off that bottle and stabbed her heart with it but also like her mother, Santana was just as feisty and stubborn.

"What, just like my father?"

"Don't bring him into this..."

"Where is he, Mom? Why haven't I heard from him?" Santana raises her voice and curls her fists. She watched Brittany reunite with her father today and that's all Santana ever wanted for years, to have that moment with her own father.

"I've told you time and time again. He doesn't want anything to do with us. Now drop it or so God help me," Anita warns her, slamming the glass on the counter-top.

"I don't believe you," Santana whispers. "You know, you always go on about how he and I are so similar. How much of a disappointment he was and how you expect me to go down the same route. But the truth is... you're my mother. I'm meant to look up to you and find my inspiration in you but all I can think of is if I ever remotely end up living my life that reflects yours in anyway, then I know that somewhere along the line I gave up. Life is not all about a career or worrying about making everything perfect. It's about love and acceptance and making mistakes so that we learn and grow from them. We have forgiveness," Santana struggles to keep her voice bold as the scratchiness return in her throat again.

Anita pouts her lips and eyes her daughter whose fists are clenched but her face is furrowed and desperately seeking for some sort of understanding between the two of them.

"Since when did you try to become the next Martin Luther King?" Anita laughs patronisingly. "Get out of my face."

Santana bites her lip with hurt. She's used to getting shot down by her mother like this all the time but it doesn't mean that it stings any less.

"Fine," Santana snaps, folding her arms. "Stay drunk, but I'd like to see how far that gets you in your petty campaign," she snarls before turning around to charge up the stairs before any more damage could be said or done. Luckily, there was no sign of any sudden movement from the kitchen and after a while, Santana was able to wonder around freely in her room, vexed and ready to lash out.

It had never occurred to Santana before that her room was basically a trophy cabinet and it wasn't even for her own benefit. Countless times she remembered her mother bringing strange guests in to her bedroom to show off and boast about her daughter's achievements and how much work she put in to all of it. Santana was fundamentally a robot controlled by her own flesh and blood. She was a clone.

Santana eyes the trophies and certificates that plaster her walls and shelves with disgust. She slowly walks up to her first certificate ever presented that's blue-tacked, dog-eared and crinkled and brushes her hand against the paper. It was an award for getting past her first level in dance at age four. With one swift movement, she rips the certificate and crumples it in her hand, dropping it to the floor. Then the one next to that and the other one next to that one. She begins a rhythm of tearing down the sheets of paper from each wall, ripping them into pieces and scattering them across the carpet like flakes of snow. Her teeth are clenched and her throat tenses as she gets rid of the frustration that riles up inside her.

Next, she eyes the trophies but to avoid her mother becoming hysterical from the noise, she grabs as many as she can from gold to bronze from her shelf and kicks open her closet, throwing them inside and repeats until there aren't any left in her sight.

"If I ever see another damn trophy, I swear..." she tells herself, before slamming the closet door shut again. She stands breathless for a couple of moments facing her closet with tears threatening to fall from her eyes. She doesn't count the seconds or the minutes that pass by; she doesn't notice that her room is dark and the only source of light is the dull glow that emanates from the hallway. She just stands there listening to the sounds of her breaths until they eventually even out again and questions if she really has the strength to go on the way she has been. Always so... angry.

Her mother is an ex-drunk and on her way to relapsing. Her father has been missing in action for years without a word of why and she now walks around school with a bullseye pinned to her back. Even the girl next door who has had so many privileges in life stripped away from her seems happier. The girl next door who Santana is in love with. She's a girl... Brittany is a girl and that's one of the hardest things for Santana to accept.

"No," Santana whispers to herself. She couldn't be... could she? Santana turns her back to the closet and falls against against the door before sliding down to sit on the floor. She thinks about her relationship with Puck - except it wasn't really an emotionally intimate relationship at all. Santana never felt herself longing for the boy or hoping that he'd send her a card on Valentine's Day. She didn't stay up until the early hours of the morning writing love letters and gushing about him all over her diary.

In fact, she never felt herself feel like that for any man. Even when she was younger she was always fawning over female icons. Her first kiss was with a girl from Kindergarten when playing house and even now when she is intimate, she avoids eye contact like the plague . Santana props her head back against the door and rubs her eyes tiredly. Thinking too much makes her brain hurt and she definitely done enough of that today. She breathes out a weary sigh and closes her eyes in an attempt to relax. She forgets to open them again before she falls into an uncomfortable but deep sleep.

A light tapping sound stirs Santana awake from and when she opens her eyes, she is consumed by darkness. Forgetting where she is, she feels around her surroundings with her hands and manages to pick up several pieces of paper before remembering. Oh. She stretches out her legs and yawns, letting her bones click before stumbling back to her feet with help from pulling herself up on the closet handle and sluggishly walking over to her bedside lamp to flick on the switch.

The unfamiliar tapping continues before Santana fully takes notice of it and she immediately looks over to her door that is still left ajar, just the way she remembered it. Her attention wonders around her bedroom with beating as as she tries to find the source of the tapping. When she glances at her window, her eyes remain glued to their position.

She takes a deep breath in anticipation and although she has a rough idea of what it may be, it doesn't seem any less freakier to her. She slowly tiptoes from her bed to behind the curtain and grabs the material in her hand before drawing it back swiftly and finding noneother than Brittany directly on the other side, swinging awkwardly upside down on a tree branch. Santana's heart still jumps with fright nonetheless but she grabs the rungs and pushes her window up and open to be welcomed by a bitter chill and a breathless Brittany.

"What the hell are you doing?" Santana whispers loudly, turning back to make sure she there was no one else awake in the house. Brittany falls in rather gracefully, managing not to make too much of a thud and dusts herself off as if it's no big deal.

"It is really cold out tonight..." Brittany replies, shivering a little before standing up and meeting Santana at eye level. "My parents went to bed early and I got cold." Santana frowns and takes in Brittany's appearance. She's dressed in her favourite duck one piece which is even complete with her white woolly hat and matching scarf.

"Where are your gloves? Your hands are red raw!" Santana begins to fuss, quickly leaving Brittany at the window to shut her door before returning by her side again. Brittany rolls her eyes and shakes her head.

"I told you that I would have to come back to get them. Remember?" Brittany rubs her hands together to heat them up.

"Come here," Santana replies softly, taking Brittany by the wrists and guiding her hands into the front pocket of her own sweater. Santana pulls at her cuffs over her own hands before placing them on top of Brittany's in her pocket. "They should warm up soon," she whispers. Brittany shows her thanks with a gracious beam that causes Santana to become flushed. "How long were you outside for?" Santana asks. Brittany takes a deep breath and holds it in thought as she purses her lips with narrow eyes.

"Long enough to get frostbite and long enough to know I can't feel them. Don't worry though. No need to worry because the same thing happens with my nose and the feeling will be back in a couple of minutes... Like little sharp tingles and that's when I know. That's when I know my nose wont go black and fall off." Brittany nods, attempting to twiddle her fingers in Santana's pocket but failing miserably. Santana squints under the poor light as they face each other only inches apart. Slowly and oh so carefully, Santana reaches her fingers out from underneath her arm cuffs in her pocket, not removing her gaze from Brittany to watch if there was any sudden shift in her expression. She stretches her right index finger out and lightly grazes her finger along Brittany's hand. Santana holds her breath, waiting for some sort of reaction that never comes. She does it again but with more pressure this time and even though Brittany's hands were scarily cold, Santana was still able to touch her skin.

"Santana..." Brittany whispers. Santana finally exhales and returns her hands back within her cuffs.

"Yes?" Santana replies cautiously.

"Would you be able to find my gloves?" Brittany whispers back, oblivious to what Santana had just done. Santana closes her eyes in relief and giggles out.

"Uh.. Yeah. Yeah sure... They're um... They're downstairs, I'll be right back." Santana offers a quick smile as Brittany removes her hands from Santana's sweater pocket. "Two seconds..." Santana quickly spins around and skips to her door before opening and shutting it quietly behind her.

When Santana returns, her face is nothing similar to the enchanted look she had before she left the room. Her eyes no longer sparkle with excitement from seeing Brittany that night and instead, they are distant and unfocused. Her mouth is a hard line and she walks in with her shoulders slouched and feet dragging across the floor.

"I never knew two seconds felt like ten minutes," Brittany says from Santana's bed. She lays comfortable on top of the sheets, holding some of the scraps of paper that Santana had ripped up earlier.

"Sorry. I got... distracted." Santana replies unenthusiastically before slumping in to a spot on the bed next to Brittany.

"Why are your certificates ripped up?" Brittany asks, trying to piece one back together but has difficulty with finding all the shreds. Santana drops Brittany's gloves on the bed before gathering the pieces and throwing them on her night stand.

"It doesn't matter," she sighs. Brittany turns to her friend, confused by the change of heart and notices that her cheeks were damp and her eyes were glistening over.

"Have... Santana? Have you been crying?" Brittany asks worriedly. Santana covers her face to wipe her eyes but shakes her head.

"No, no. I'm just really tired. It's been an eventful day." Santana yawns and climbs beneath her bedsheets.

Little does Brittany know that when Santana scurried downstairs to find her mittens, she found her mother instead, lying passed out on the couch in the lounge with another half empty bottle of red, toppled over and spilling onto the beige carpet that soaked it up hungrily. She didn't want to see her mother like that again but it was out of her power to stop it and for that she could only blame herself.

"I'm fine," Santana whispers.

"Okay... If you say so." Brittany replies, twiddling her fingers, unsure if Santana is being completely honest with her.

"Can you feel your hands yet?" Santana yawns again, nuzzling her head further into the pillow of her side of the bed. Brittany nods and picks up her gloves and slips her hands into them.

"Yeah," Brittany whispers, biting her lip and wondering if she should leave.

"Britt..." Santana whispers softly. Brittany turns her head down to Santana whose eyes fall heavier with each blink. "Everything's going to be okay... isn't it?" She asks. Brittany frowns, confused by the uncertainty in Santana's voice as for someone who has always been so sure and confident within herself, that asking for Brittany's own reassurance kind of threw Brittany off.

"I don't know, Santana. How can anyone know?" she replies honestly. It wasn't the answer that Santana wanted to hear but at least it was honest. She pulls the sheets from underneath Brittany and throws them over her, inviting her into the warmth of her bed.

"Stay with me tonight?" Santana mumbles at the brink of exhaustion but manages to muster up enough energy to ask one last thing from her.

"As in... fall asleep with you?" Brittany replies shyly. Santana twists away from Brittany to face the wall to leave enough room for Brittany to lie down.

"Yeah... As in fall asleep with me," she murmurs. Brittany looks around the room for a moment then back to Santana who is on her way to counting sheep.

"Oh... okay," she whispers back before turning to switch off the lamp and scooting down the bed next to Santana, lying directly behind her.

Santana listens to her own breaths as she falls deeper into a shade of black. She can feel Brittany's breath mimic hers on the back of her neck and it only relaxes her even further.

Brittany can smell the coconut scent from the shampoo that lingers on Santana's hair as she tries to relax as well. There was enough room on the bed to spread out but Brittany is afraid to do so and instead, she wraps her arm around Santana's waist as if she was about to disappear at any moment.

She can feel Santana stiffen from underneath her hold and immediately wonders if she made the right decision. A couple of moments later however, Santana leans further back into Brittany, cuddling into her and encouraging Brittany to hold her more tightly. It was as if she belonged there all along.

End of Chapter X

So that's the first part of their night. I wonder how the second part is going to play out. Hmm... ;)