I'm not going to kill our babies! Brittana are safe. Or are they?
This is like the longest chapter so far and because of that I think I'll only post two today. Maybe. Depends on how nice I'm feeling.

Nothing is mine but the storyline (and I love how all this rhymes).
Flashbacks are in Italics

"We're here, Miss Booker," the coach driver opens the carriage for me and I smile at him politely. "Hope you enjoyed the ride."

I nod, "drive home safe, mister."

I walk into the edges of the ranch after being dropped off just outside. The hangover's subsided slightly and Mr Evans gave me some water to take with me for the ride.

The first person I see is Mr Hummel and he smiles at me, showing no bad blood. He must remember the situation me and Brittany caught him in yesterday though, because he blushes a deep red before hurrying off to his destination.

I smile to myself, thinking how Hummel and Karofsky made a good couple. I'm glad someone could look after the skinny doctor; he don't look like he could do much good in a fight.

I bypass the Pierce's house, wanting to avoid Mr Pierce at all costs. I don't know if anything's been said to him or not, but I didn't wanna take the chance to find out. Not until I'd talked to Brittany.

I head towards the corral with the horses, thinking Brittany would be there, as she usually was. But when I got nearer, there was no human life to be found; the horses were all hitched, eating their hay and looking already tended to. I sighed and whirled round on my feet, thinking where Brittany could've gone.

I start walking towards the barn, thinking maybe she's gone to see Mac. She isn't there either, but I give Sirocco a hug as he stands in his place in the barn. "Hey boy," I whisper, and he snorts in response. "Missed me?" He shakes his big head and I laugh, rubbing him between the ears before taking off again.

I'm on the outskirts of the ranch now, with no sign of Brittany. I'm just about to give up and head back to my hut to rest when I hear it.

Singing.

No-one else sings on this ranch, and even if they did, it could never be that angelic. Not even close.

I follow the voice and find Brittany with her back turned to the ranch, sitting near the edge of the cliff that overlooks the south of the county. There's a small copse of trees surrounding her and if it weren't for her singing, I never would've found her. She's completely hidden from view.

Wearing a pair of cut off jean shorts while she wasn't working or riding, and a loose blouse, she looked beautiful. She always looks beautiful.

I sigh quietly and close my eyes, listening to the voice that I was starting to fall for. I stand there silently for a few minutes, just listening, until I notice the song end. I open my eyes, but she's still sitting there, delicately playing with the flowers of a sage plant next to her.

I take a deep, steadying breath before walking over to sit next to her. Even though she's looking straight ahead she must sense it's me, or just wants no company at all, regardless who it was, because she goes to stand up. I stop her with my hand gently on her arm, and she shrugs it off but remains sitting next to me.

"Brittany," I whisper and she whips her head round to glare at me.

"Call me Miss Pierce," she has no emotion in her voice; there's no hate or anger, it's just monotonous.

I sigh and look down at my hands. "I'm afraid to say I will not, Britt," I look up at her and she's still staring at me. "You're my friend and I can't bring myself to call you that after what's occurred between us."

"I'm your friend?" She questions, "I'd hate to see how you treat your enemies."

"I did have enemies, years ago, Brittany," I start quietly. I couldn't lie to her anymore. "Me and my gang, we killed those enemies. Or most of them." I lick my lips quickly and look at her, and she remains stoic. "I think your father knew, in the back part of his mind, that I used to run with a gang." I chew on my bottom lip as I think of what to say. "And we were one of the big gangs in these parts. We owned quite a lot of land around here."

She nods slowly and looks back out over the cliff. "We never came close to this ranch, if that's what you're thinkin'. We never touched honest money, Britt. Never once. We took the dirty money from the city dwellers who strayed too far from their fancy homes. The corrupt politicians and their dirty bastards who did their biddin', but never once money from an honest day's work."

"The outlaw with a code? How wonderfully romantic," she laughed and I frowned at her tone. "The reluctant murderer, the noble criminal?" She shakes her head and looks at the floor between her legs. "There's nothing more depressing than someone who's found a way to think the bad into good."

"I know it's a corrupt morality, Brittany," I look up at the sky, squinting against the sun. "I ain't proud of my past, and I think that's startin' to become clear. I was a good kid, Britt. I was raised well by lovin' parents, I had manners, the only time I ever held a gun was when I was playin'." I chew on the inside of my gum. "I grew up on a ranch, Brittany."

"Then why'd you turn to crime, San?" She whispers, looking confused. "If you knew honest work from when you were born, what changed?"

"Everythin' change, Britt," tears start blurring my vision as the memories I'd pushed to the back of my head resurface. "Everythin'."

"You're not gonna catch me, Sheriff!" I giggled as I ran back into the ranch. We were eleven, and allowed to venture just outside of the ranch as long as we were still in sight. "I'm the biggest bandit in this town!"

"You're goin' in the slammer where you belong you dirty dog," Quinn shouted at me as she ran after me, her toy gun drawn as she catches up to me. "You lookin' mighty tired, Lopez."

"I can still outrun you, Quinn!" I ran faster and stopped when I looked around the ranch.

Quinn bumped into me, not expecting the sudden cease in running. "What's goin' on? Givin' up?" She pouted lightly. "I still wanted to play."

"No, Quinn. Look." We circled on our feet and looked around the ranch. Everything was eerily quiet and there was no hustle and bustle like there would be in the middle of the day. "Where is everyone?"

"Probably puttin' the herd out to pasture, Santana," Quinn put her gun back in the holster and folded her arms. "Nothin' to worry about, see?"

I still felt uneasy. "Let's go to my house." I didn't want to be out in the open and around this time mother would be home, even if father wasn't. I walked in quietly when I got there, calling my mother, but with no response. "She's not here, Quinn."

Quinn was starting to look uneasy too. "Maybe she's at the store," she said quietly.

We went to the store, and even the owners weren't there. The horses were whinnying restlessly in their corral, hitched to their posts like they are usually, but trying to throw the rope off to get away. "I don't like this," I whispered and Quinn nodded.

"Hey, the barn's boarded up," she pointed over to where our parents keep the cattle when they hadn't been put out to pasture. "That never happens, does it?" She looked over me questioningly and her eyes narrowed slightly when I shook my head. "Come on, let's go look."

"Quinn, I'm not sure," I said quietly. "I don't like this."

"Me neither, Santana." She held her hand out to me and I instantly took it. "But we've got each other, right?" She smiled when I nodded, and started to lead the way towards the barn. "Let's pry these off."

We struggled because we didn't have as much strength as whoever had put the boards up, but we eventually managed to get the three boards off. "Ready?" Quinn asked me quietly.

"Ready," I whispered.

But we weren't ready. We could never have been ready, never have even began to be prepared for the sight in front of us.

Quinn retched at the smell of the blood, and I had started feeling faint at the sight in the barn. Bodies were strewn across the floor, and I recognised the store owners as they lay staring at us, their eyes glazed and unblinking. I fought the urge to throw up or pass out, and gripped Quinn's hand tighter. "Quinn…" I whispered, but her eyes were staring at something, in the corner of the barn, and I paled as I saw what, or who, she was staring at.

Her parents. Huddled together, arms wrapped around each other. Matching bullet holes in their foreheads. I pulled Quinn into me as she broke down into tears, attempting to rush forward to her parents' bodies. "Quinn, no," I whispered and she looked at me in confusion. "We can't. We have to go." I saw my mother's boots from around the fence separating the stables in the barn and refused to investigate. I knew she was dead. Just as I knew my father was.

"But Santana…" Quinn cried harder as she looked back at me. Something caught her eye in the corner of the barn and she threw up on the spot as I instantly bent down to hold her hair back.

I looked into the corner behind us and understood why she reacted the way she did. Mr Schue, the owner of one of the shops on the ranch had been hung and drawn, his guts spilling out down his legs, the blood still dripping on the spot beneath him.

"Quinn, we have to go, now." She nodded and we stumbled out the barn, back towards the corral. "Get a horse," I told her, "and meet me outside my house." I ran off before she could ask, and headed up directly into my father's room. My father's old room, now. I crouched and looked under his bed, pulling out the chest I knew he kept there. The chest containing guns. I pulled out a revolver, and a rifle and some spare ammo before darting back downstairs to Quinn who was already outside with one of the stallions.

"What you got there?" I ignored her and mounted the horse quickly. "Santana?"

"Just ride, Quinn." I told her, steeling myself against the images still flashing in my mind. "Just ride, and don't look back."

"Oh my God, San, I am so sorry," Brittany pulls me into a hug after I recount the story to her. "I didn't know. I had no idea."

"I know, Britt," I whisper, the tears falling freely down my face. "You couldn't've."

She chews her lip and looks at me thoughtfully. "So if you knew it was bandits, why'd you turn into one yourself? Why not go fight for the law and kill every bandit you could?"

"Because back then, Britt, sheriffs were even more lousy than they are now. And I mean no disrespect to your friend, Mr Evans. I'm sure he's honourable." She nods and I continue. "We knew that livin' as bandits would give us a better chance to kill whoever raided the ranch. At least, that's what I told Quinn."

"What do you mean?"

"As we were ridin' away," I sigh and frown at the memory. "Quinn was just thinkin' about getting' the hell away from there as fast as we could. But I looked back once more. And I saw someone, Britt, I saw someone on the higher terrain by the ranch." I grit my teeth, "and I swear that bastard had a sheriff badge."

Brittany holds my hand and squeezes it, the small gesture making me feel slightly reassured. "He'd just watched, and not done a bastard thing. I knew then that the law weren't gonna help. They'd already had the chance and…" I squeeze my eyes shut, willing the tears to stop falling. "I'm sorry, Brittany. I shouldn't burden you with such things."

"You're not at all, San," she whispers and I smile slightly despite the emotions coursing through me. "I'm sorry I jumped down your throat, I had no idea. You didn't deserve any of this."

"Maybe I did, Brittany. We were reckless teenagers. Right up til I was 21, we were reckless. We'd go from town to town, forcin' money from the rich and wagerin' it off the poor." I show her the back of my hands, the scars scattered over my fingers. "I was somethin' of a master at five-finger-fillet. After I'd earned these scars practisin'."

Brittany runs her fingers gently over my hands, as if the small pressure would hurt the healed wounds. "And girls fell at your feet?" She fills in, and I laugh quietly.

"Somethin' like that. A group of dangerous women, and a lesbian affair to brag out? Sure, women were interested." I shrugged, "I had itches. I'm not proud of my past, Brittany."

"And so you shouldn't be," she smiles with a little humour, even though the whole conversation is dire. "That explains the redhead."

"Yeah. I shouldn't've lied to you, Britt," I whisper. "I should't've done a lot of things in my miserable life, but lyin' to you is one of my biggest regrets."

"And kissin' me?" She asks quietly, her eyes boring into mine. "Do you regret that, San?"

"Not at all, Britt," I smile and rest my forehead against hers. "That's one of the best decisions in my sorry life." And it was. Having Brittany by my side through all of this was perfect enough, and having her romantically as well as platonically made me believe I was dreaming.

"Good," she whispers, and I see her tongue ghost over her lips. "Can I," she swallows and closes her eyes, before looking at me again. "Can I kiss you, now?"

"You don't even have to ask, Britt," I smile, my tear stained lips curving up slightly. "I'll never not wanna kiss you."

She smiles shyly as she dips her head and leans into me, her kiss soft, softer than it had been in the movie house the previous day. It made me want to cry again, but I held it back. "You're a beautiful woman, Santana," she tells me. "I'm sorry I left you out there."

"That was the first time I wasn't by your side since I first got here, Britt," I say, my emotions pouring out. "And it was the worst I've felt in a while."

"I felt exactly the same," Brittany smiles sadly. "I just have one question, San." She carries on when I nod, "is your last name Booker, or Lopez?"

I sigh, not wanting to go into this, having had too many emotions flowing through me during the conversation for one day. "My name's Lopez. I had to hide my name since I left the gang three years ago, and called myself Booker since." That was as good of an explanation as I was willing to give for now, and Brittany nods understandingly. Truth be told, it went a lot deeper than that, but I wasn't willing to tell Britt that the girl named Quinn who I'd grown up with was the notorious bandit known as Fabray.

"Can you, can you not call me by my real name around others, Britt? I'd still like to be known as Booker to everyone else. It makes things easier."

"Of course, I wouldn't have thought otherwise." She grins slyly, "although, Santana Lopez is kind of a sexy name. Why'd you wanna hide it?"

I laugh quietly. "Brittany S. Pierce is a beautiful name. I'd bet my life someone famous will have a name like that in the years to come."

"Let's hope you're right, San," she smiles and bumps her nose against mine. "I don't wanna lose you again."

"Me neither," I whisper, and lean in to kiss her again. I feel her smile into the kiss and it makes my heart flutter as my eyes close.

She pulls back after a few moments. "I got a telegram from Mr Evans shortly before you arrived," she looks amused as I give her a curious look. "Were you really hittin' on a shrub?"

"That bastard," I mutter, and laugh as Brittany giggles and pushes me so I'm lying on my back, making room as she snuggles into my side.

My life now was alright.

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