Shelter
Part One
Chapter Ten: You'd Do Anything For Me
Ships: Brittana with Sam/Brittany, Santofsky, Puck/Brittany, Quinntana friendships. Very minor Quick.
Summary: The only thing worse than being reaped is volunteering for someone you love. Because then they have something to use against you. Brittany and Santana learn that the hard way.
Other: This is a Hunger Games AU. Every chapter will be named after a line from a Glee song with contextual or sometimes more literal relevance to the chapter.
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or The Hunger Games.
Re-posted because the line breaks were irritating me... Also, if you haven't watched the Hunger Games yet, watch it. Right now. Seriously. It's amazing. And watch Glee on Tuesday too because Brittana and a sex tape and dancing together. And a Naya solo for the first time since Back to Black. And Brittana is street clothes. Do you really need any more incentive?
"Like never before," Santana finished singing the last line of the song. She could almost hear that old dusty record player sounding the last few notes of the song.
Santana carefully raised one of her hands to wipe the stray tears from her eyes. Fuck, she wasn't supposed to be crying. She was supposed to be comforting Brittany. But she really couldn't help her tears because when a beautiful, amazing girl breaks down in your arms, there isn't much else you can do. She had tried to be strong for Brittany, but it really was exhausting sometimes.
She felt Brittany's head droop down and the wrap of Brittany's arms around her loosen. The girl had fallen asleep. Santana carefully maneuvered out of Brittany's grip, careful not to wake her, and lay her down in the centre of the bed. She reached for a pillow and gently lifted Brittany's head, sliding the pillow underneath and then pulled the blanket from under the blonde's slumbering body slowly, before pulling it over her.
Brittany was right. That boy didn't deserve to die. None of them did. Santana wished that she had taken Brittany up to her room instead of letting her go with Puck. Maybe if she did, then Brittany wouldn't have met that boy. But she did and now all of this was real to her. The impending death, the blood, the betrayal and murder was no longer something Brittany saw on television. It was a reality and one that Santana tried to protect Brittany from.
Brittany shifted to the right in her sleep and Santana smiled fondly as her nose scrunched up and her eyes seemed to tighten. She mumbled incoherently and brought her arms closer to her chest and Santana immediately thought that maybe Brittany was subconsciously looking for her. She chuckled bitterly, shaking the thought out of her head.
Santana kneeled beside the sleeping girl and moved a few wisps of light blonde hair out of her face, tucking them behind her ear. She gently traced the crown of her head with her fingers, so lightly that she almost wasn't touching her.
"I'll be back, okay?" She whispered the question. She was answered with peaceful silence and a quiet grumble.
She really didn't want to leave. She wanted to stay there holding Brittany for hours. But she had business to attend to. Without another word, Santana put on her long grey peacoat and knee-high boots and slipped out the door.
"Hey midget," Santana called out to a short concierge with more hair gel on his head than Santana had ever seen in her life. "I need ticket for the bullet train."
She rested her forearms on the concierge desk and waited unexpectedly. The boy's big brown eyes opened wider and he nodded, his slicked back curls bouncing up and down. He tapped at a holographic screen for a few seconds before looking at Santana with regretful eyes.
"I'm sorry miss. It's eleven at night. The last train of the day left half an hour ago,"
"Listen here, Blaine Anderson," Santana read the name off his name tag patronizingly. "I need to be somewhere, so you're going to lose that ridiculous bowtie and find a way to get me where I want to be."
"Right," the concierge stuttered and Santana smirked. Her intimidation techniques always worked.
He tapped a few more buttons on the screen before a tall, stumbling boy came in through the doorway without speaking. He was handsome but had sad eyes even darker than his raven-coloured hair. He was wearing a dark green jacket with a gold crest on it and a somber expression on his face. Santana's eyes traced the gold crest and upon inspection, she realized he was an Avox.
"Drive her wherever she wishes and then return back here, right away." Blaine took a key off a hook behind him and handed it to the boy. Santana raised an eyebrow at the authoritative tone that the concierge had and stifled a laugh at their obvious height difference. The Avox towered over the concierge and he was spitting out orders to him.
"Let's go," Santana jerked her head and the boy nodded.
He led her out of the building and into the sheltered car park. Santana followed him as he led her to a sleek, black town car. She nodded in approval as he opened the passenger door for her. She slid into the seat and fastened her seatbelt as the Avox did the same in the driver's seat. He started the car and waited expectantly.
"McKinley Industries," Santana said robotically.
The Avox nodded and began reversing out of the parking spot. Santana stared out the window, watching as they rolled by huge skyscrapers and highrises. She remembered the first time she ever saw one. She was fourteen and the gigantic buildings scared the crap out of her. Now she didn't pay them any mind. She watched as they appeared and disappeared from her view without blinking.
The heels of Santana's boots clacked as she walked out of the elevator and onto the thirty first floor of the tall building. She made the familiar walk that she had made countless times before to the large office at the end of the hall. Without knocking, she twisted the door knob and pushed the door open. As expected, Will Schuester was sitting at his desk, waiting for her.
When he saw her he smiled widely without showing any teeth. That stupid smile always repulsed Santana.
"So it took you a wh-" He began to speak in a suave voice but was immediately cut off by Santana.
"Do not come to my fucking room again, got it?" Santana threatened. "Seriously. Don't."
"I'm a businessman, Santana," Will reasoned, amused at the girl's fiery reaction. "I was just ensuring the quality of my investments."
"I've never let you down before, Will," Santana remarked. "And I'm not about to."
"Maybe, but I don't know about that Brittany girl. She doesn't seem like winning material."
"She is. I've been… Training her. Privately. She'll win. You have my word on that," Santana promised, trying not to sound desperate.
"Your words don't mean much to me," He said, hinting at another meaning in his statement. Santana understood, of course and nodded. "Your actions, however…"
"I'll go through with my end of the deal, you know I will," her voice began to quaver slightly. God, she fucking hated Will Schuester. The sight of him made her skin crawl and his voice gave her goosebumps.
"As will I," Will responded, leaning forward to rest his forearms on his knees. "Santana-"
"Don't come around my floor anymore," Santana blurted out. She searched her mind for an excuse to avoid telling the real truth. She didn't think Will would react well to 'you repulse me and I fucking hate you'. Probably not. "It looks suspicious."
Will leaned back in his chair and at looked Santana, trying to read what she was thinking. He sighed and ran his hand through his thick curly hair.
"You're right," He admitted, seeing the reason in her explanation. "But Santana-"
"Okay, it's time for me to go," Santana rushed away from Will's desk. "I'll see you around."
She stepped backwards, keeping her eyes on the older man. When her back hit the door, she felt around behind her for the door knob. She threw the door open, nearly hitting the wide-eyed ginger Avox cleaning woman in the face. She raced down the hallway, bile rising in her stomach. She needed to get the fuck away from Will Schuester before she puked all over his expensive carpeting.
Santana slid her card key into the door slowly, as if any quick movements would wake the girl that Santana assumed to still be sleeping. There was a flash of green light beside the slot and Santana pulled her card out. She was extra careful with opening the door and she didn't quite know what to expect when she would open it fully.
She hoped that Brittany was still there sleeping, wrapped up in the heavy duvet cover, with her legs tucked under her chin. She remembered how Brittany used to sleep in that position whenever they had sleepovers (which was pretty damn often) and how Brittany would always steal away most of the blanket. Santana never really minded, though. It just gave her an excuse to curl into her side and cuddle up with her.
The brief memory triggered a pang of guilt in Santana. She had just left Brittany. She had just left literally minutes after the blonde girl came to her room and fell asleep crying in her arms.
A small part of Santana wished that Brittany had left her room before Santana got back. It would be easier for them both. Or at least that is what Santana tried to convince herself. That way, she didn't owe Brittany any explanations because she knew that if Brittany was in her room awake, she would definitely ask for one.
She pushed open the door slowly and popped her head in anxiously. Her eyes scanned across the familiar room before resting on the figure that had never looked more tiny than in that exact moment. Brittany was curled up in the middle of Santana's bed with the blanket tucked tightly around her lithe body and the slowly rising sun seemed to make Brittany's blonde hair look golden. Santana let out a sigh of relief and stepped into the room.
She tried to unzip her boots as silently as she could, but without surprise the zipping noise was loud in the otherwise silent room. She peeked over at the bed and seeing that Brittany had not moved at all, Santana slipped off her boots and lined them up meticulously beside the door. She began to unbutton the large buttons of her peacoat, leaving her in her tight black skirt and white blouse, when she heard movement coming from the bed.
Santana turned around to see a disheveled Brittany beginning to sit up in bed. Her blonde hair was sticking out at all different angles and she was looking around the room, as if she was confused as to where exactly she was. When her drowsy eyes finally landed on Santana, they seemed to light up and Santana felt her heart jump a little bit.
"Hey," Santana breathed out, trying to hide her awe.
"I like your skirt," Brittany said between a long yawn.
"Thanks," Santana replied.
"Where'd you go?" Brittany asked, in an adorably disheveled voice.
"I just stepped out for a second, not long," Santana whispered, approaching the bed and sitting at the foot. "Feeling better? No more crying?"
"I, uh, I'm sorry," Brittany bit the corner of her lower lip, nervously. "About the whole crying thing."
"Don't apologize," Santana shook her head. She swallowed the lump in her throat and reached across the bed to slip her hand over Brittany's lighter one. "Don't apologize, okay? It's fine."
She squeezed Brittany's hand and offered a rarely genuine smile, locking her dark brown eyes with bright sapphire eyes. Brittany soon averted her eyes and began to trace the patterns of the comforter with them.
"I know, but I still felt a little- I just felt stupid," Brittany mumbled. As soon as she spoke the words, Santana saw the pale complexion of her cheeks redden.
"Don't," Santana tried to comfort her. "Don't apologize or feel stupid for feeling. That's ridiculous."
Santana watched Brittany nod in understanding and smile softly. When she finally looked back up at and locked eyes with her, Santana saw a hopeful glimmer in her eyes. The corners of her thin lips seemed to quiver slightly, as if she was unsure of what she wanted to say.
"What's up, Britt?" Santana's eyebrows furrowed in an attempt trying to read the blonde girl.
"What about you?" Brittany spoke in a husky, low voice. "Are you sorry for feeling?"
Santana's breath caught in her throat. She opened her mouth but no words came out. Brittany's boldness left her speechless. The caring girl she remembered from her carefree childhood would never be that brazen. Brittany always had a great perception of other people's feelings and she had always cared about them. She would never hurt anyone physically or emotionally or make them feel bad about themselves. She would never say anything that would make someone uncomfortable, unless she meant to.
"That sounded a lot more sexy in my head," Brittany pondered aloud and Santana's eyebrows furrowed in disbelief.
"Wha-" Santana began to say.
"I was trying to seduce you, but it kind of sounded rude when it came out," Brittany finished her thought and frowned.
"I-What?" Santana said again.
Brittany's cerulean gaze was suddenly fixated on Santana, or more specifically her lips. Santana suddenly began to panic. Brittany wanted to kiss her. On the lips. Again. Santana tried to tear her eyes away from Brittany's darkening blue orbs, but she couldn't. Brittany began to move her face closer to Santana and although a million voices in her head were shouting to push her away or better yet, jump out the ceiling to floor window, she didn't move.
Her eyes fluttered shut and she licked her lips in anticipation. Soon, she could feel Brittany's hot breath on her lower lip and Brittany's pink lips gently pressing against her own. Santana didn't move. She was frozen in her position and she honestly didn't want to. She tried to convince herself that she was dreaming and that at any second, Brittany would cry out in pain, just like in the rest of her dreams. It was easier that way.
It was a sensory overload for Santana. It was like she couldn't feel anything, yet she could feel every single nerve in her body. When she felt a warm hand wrap around her and play with the tiny hairs at the nape of her neck, she snapped out of her daze. This was real. It was as if something had sparked inside of Santana and started that familiar burning at the pit of her stomach. Her arms flew out from their previously rigid placement beside her abdomen and grabbed the back of Brittany's head. She fisted long, soft blonde hair and she suddenly flew onto her back.
Brittany was hovering on top of her with her long legs on either side of her Santana's small hips and began to nip at Santana's lower lip. Santana opened her mouth, moaning softly, and Brittany's tongue slipped in and touched hers, experimentally. Santana thought she was going to explode from sexual frustration when Brittany stroked her tongue with her own and simultaneously ran her hands up the sides of Santana's abdomen. She had never felt anything like she had in that moment. Her head flew back when Brittany's hands averted their course a few inches below Santana's breasts.
"Touch me," Santana gasped out, breathing heavily and pressing her lips to Brittany's firmly. "Please."
Santana felt colder when Brittany's lips moved away from hers, but once again felt like she was on fire when Brittany's wet lips pressed against her neck. She thought that Brittany was really really good at whatever it was exactly that she was doing and she knew that she never wanted her to stop, at that rate.
Brittany's wandering hands made their way up to the top of Santana's blouse, just skimming her breasts as they struggled to pop open the buttons. Rushing but delicate, long fingers opened each button, one by one. Brittany pulled her lips away from the soft skin of Santana's neck so that she could pull the shirt off of the brunette but immediately placed them back on and began to suck and nip at the skin of Santana's neck.
She released it with a popping noise and Santana almost whined because of how desperate she was feeling. Brittany had stirred a certain tightness between her legs and she needed to feel a release soon. Warm, wet lips moved further down Santana's body, pleasurably, but once they rested on that certain spot near her collarbone, Santana jerked upward, knocking Brittany backwards and making her disappear off the edge of bed.
"Ow," She heard an airy, husky voice say. Brittany reappeared at the foot of her bed, scratching the messy blonde hair atop her head.
"Fuck, sorry," Santana began to apologize profusely.
"It's okay," Brittany smiled lustily and began to move back to straddle Santana.
"No!" Santana yelled out as an automatic response, but immediately regretted her reaction when she saw the look on Brittany's face. "I just… I'm… I can't."
"But you were just…" Brittany sputtered, confused.
"It was just too," Santana trailed off and ran through various excuses in her mind before finally settling on one. "Fast."
Santana noticed Brittany's eyes resting on the long scar that ran across and under her collarbone. She quickly grabbed her blouse and pulled it back on. Fuck. Brittany had seen it.
"Where is that from?" Brittany nodded her head at Santana and Santana shuffled around the bed, looking for a sweater that she's sure she left under a pillow the other day.
"It's nothing," Santana brushed it off, feigning nonchalance. "From the Games."
"Oh," Brittany breathed out, in understanding. "Did it hurt a lot?"
Yes. It hurt liked fucking hell. Santana briefly remembered the moment it happened. The second of what had become normalcy to a sharp flash of pain. Then came the blood and more pain.
"No," Santana shrugged her shoulders as she blatantly and obviously lied through her teeth.
"It looks like it did," Brittany observed, watching the scar move against Santana's protruding collar bone.
"It didn't," Santana reiterated the lie. Fuck, could Brittany bring up anything but this? "I could hardly feel it. I didn't even know it happened 'til I saw the blood."
Another lie.
"Oh," Brittany responded, sensing that Santana wanted to change the topic. "I didn't mean to like pressure you or anything like that. I mean, I haven't even… I never- well, you know."
Santana nodded in understanding and in relief. She had always thought that Brittany and Sam had been together. They always seemed so close when they would swim together or go places together or when they were just talking. If she was being honest, it bothered Santana whenever she did see them together. Her horribly vivid imagination would run wild.
"I always thought that you and Sam," Santana trailed off, knowing that Brittany would know what she was talking about.
"No!" Brittany shouted immediately after. She laughed aloud at Santana and shook her head. "That's gross. He's like my brother."
"Oh, I just thought because you volunteered for his sister and people don't just volunteer for people that don't mean anything to them so I always just figured that you guys were like together or something," Santana shrugged, trying to seem cool about it all.
Truthfully, it had been bothering her for a long time. She had sacrificed so that Brittany could live. She gave herself up for her. She put her own life and the lives of seven other kids behind Brittany's. Sure, she didn't die, but she could've. She almost did. It didn't seem fair that Brittany could just throw away her sacrifice for some stupid little girl that didn't mean anything.
"She means something," Brittany explained. "She's my best friend's sister, but I just… I don't know. She's just really small, you know?"
Brittany looked around the room, searching for an answer to the problem in her head. She sighed deeply and locked eyes with Santana. Santana noticed that Brittany's usually cheery bright blue eyes looked rather somber.
"Stacey is," Brittany started off in a quiet voice. "She's very sweet. She's funny and little and she laughs at Sam's bad jokes when no one else does. She's a nice girl. She doesn't even watch the Games on television; she shouldn't have to go in. Nothing that small and innocent should have to go through that stuff or even see it."
Santana tilted her head to the side and nodded. She knew what exactly what she meant. The smile that Brittany offered to her told Santana that maybe she knew what she was thinking. She had always been really perceptive, after all.
Suddenly, Santana felt a smooth warmth on her bare thigh and felt the hairs at the back of her neck stand when she realized that it was Brittany's hand.
"I never said thank you," Brittany said softly, stroking Santana's tan thigh with her thumb. "What you did for me… God, I never… I just… Thank you."
So Brittany did know what Santana had been thinking.
"I- You're welcome, I guess," Santana felt the corner of her lips twitch upwards at Brittany's gratitude.
"I can't believe that I never said thank you," Brittany laughed in disbelief as she shook her head. "I mean like, you saved my life and I never even said thank you. What kind of person does that? Can you believe that?"
"It was my fault for ignoring you and stuff," the words stumbled out of Santana's mouth nervously. Her eyes didn't move from the hot path that Brittany was trailing against her flesh. "If you had the chance, you probably would've, right?"
"Yeah," Brittany's voice rose higher at the end of the small word, like she wanted to say something else.
"But?" Santana dragged out, raising her eyebrows at Brittany's antics. She was just really fucking adorable sometimes.
"Does this mean you're done ignoring me? Because you're talking to me now and this has been the longest conversation that we haven't argued or cried or something equally as emotional in years. Literally."
Santana had never really seen someone use that 'puppy dog eyes' thing and she had never understood the whole big effect of it until that moment. Brittany's eyes had never looked more blue than they had in that moment. They were lighter than they usually were and instantly reminded Santana of the sky in the late morning that hovered over her dock in Victor's Village. They were big and so blue and were shining with hopefulness. Her brows were furrowed slightly and there was only the slightest of frowns placed upon her mouth.
Santana thought that if Brittany asked her to jump off a cliff or cut off her hand, she would do it without a doubt. There wasn't much that Santana wouldn't do for Brittany. Nothing, not the Games or three long years or anything else, would ever change that.
"Yes," Santana said, without a doubt in her mind.
"So can I ask you a question? And you'll have to answer completely honestly."
Santana noticed that Brittany's eyes kept darting back and forth between her eyes and lips. It made her nervous as hell and she wasn't even sure for what. She gulped down the large lump in her throat and nodded.
"Okay, well," Brittany started off, chewing the corner of her bottom lip. "What do you get if you win?"
"The Games?" Santana responded with raised eyebrows. It was common knowledge to all of Panem what Victors received upon winning. "Uh, well there's the food and supplied and stuff that's distributed to the whole district and you get a shitload of money. Besides that, you'd get the house beside mine in Victor's Village."
"A house?" Brittany's eyes widened and her mouth gaped open. "One of those big ones?"
"Yeah, you know that," Santana reasoned. "You'll get the one beside mine. We'll get to share a dock."
"Wow," Brittany breathed out. There was a dreamy, lost look in her eye that was so familiar to Santana for a few seconds before Brittany snapped back into reality. "I don't think I'd like that, though. It's really big and it probably needs a lot of cleaning. I don't even know how to cook for myself. My mom and my dad and my brother can have it. Or the Evans', if they want. They could all probably fit inside. I'll stay at home."
"Well, Britt, you can have a cleaning lady, if you want," Santana, unlike Dave and Mags, had refused that optioned immediately upon its presentation. Sure, sometimes her house got a little dirty, but she would rather clean it herself than have a Capitol-hired woman trifling through her drawers. "And you can hire a chef if you want or I could cook you some stuff sometimes."
"I'd like to have dinner with you sometimes, but a house doesn't seem like a great prize for this," Brittany decided.
"Houses are pretty great," Santana argued lightly. "It's a nice house. Big and nice furniture and a television and more rooms than you'll ever need…"
"Well, I still think that a house is a crappy prize." Santana saw that Brittany was dead-set on her opinion and laughed at the way she tightened her jaw.
"Okay, I'll tell you what," Santana shifted on the bed and crossed her legs. "Win and I'll get you anything you want."
"Anything?" Brittany repeated, raising an eyebrow. Santana noticed the mischievous undertones in her voice but dismissed them.
"Anything," Santana nodded. "Even if it costs a million dollars."
"What about if it's free?"
"Uh," Santana paused, unsure of what Brittany was hinting at. She wasn't sure what Brittany could want that was free and it seemed a little odd that someone would choose something free if they could have the world. Then again, it was Brittany and she had always had a special way of looking at the world. So without another thought, Santana nodded, "Yeah, I guess so."
"I want you to kiss me. Like a real kiss."
Brittany looked up and Santana could see the smile that was fighting to break out onto her face. Santana couldn't understand why Brittany looked so damn hopeful. After all, they had just been kissing, really kissing, a few minutes before. Besides that, Santana found her face getting really hot. If it were anyone else that requested that of Santana, she would've shook them off with a few well-placed insults and verbal threats. But it wasn't anyone else. It was Brittany and it made Santana's heart start beating twice as fast.
"But," Santana stammered. "We just… Didn't we just do that?"
"Yeah, we kissed, but I still want you to kiss me." Brittany probably meant it as a way of helping her understand her statement better, but Santana was still confused.
"I don't understand," said Santana, squinting her eyes in confusion.
"I want you to kiss me. Is that so hard? I mean, you didn't initiate the kiss or anything, so it's more like I kissed you and you kissed back which is different than you kissing me," Brittany explained the, in her opinion, flawless reasoning.
"What about the time on the roof?" Santana argued back. "I clearly remember that I kissed you then."
Brittany didn't respond to Santana's rebuttal and after a few seconds of complete silence, Santana was starting to worry about the blonde. She hoped that Brittany didn't think that she didn't want to kiss her, because she did and she always would.
"Britt?"
"I mess up sometimes," Brittany blurted randomly. "I say and do stupid stuff because I'm distracted or worried about something else."
"You just care too much," Santana reasoned and mimicked Brittany's actions from earlier by placing her soft hand on Brittany's upper thigh and slowly dragging it across.
"If you say yes," Brittany continued slowly. "If you promise that you'll kiss me when I get out, I'd do anything to get out of there. To get back to you."
For someone who had just said that they had a tendency to say stupid things, Santana thought that Brittany was the most eloquent person in the world. The words all resonated in Santana's mind and she knew that she would never, as long as she lived, forget them.
Santana placed her hands on either side of Brittany's face, cupping her slightly pink cheeks. She leaned forward until she heard Brittany's breathing catch in her throat. She gently guided Brittany's face towards hers and fluttered her eyes shut as their lips slid together. It was hardly a graze, but it seemed to get to Brittany because when Santana finally pulled away from her, Santana could see that she had this goofy, dazed look on her face.
"I'll do it. Of course, I'll do it." Santana whispered, still cupping Brittany's cheeks. She relished in the warmth that seemed to radiate from Brittany's cheeks. At those eight words, Brittany's cheeks split into this gracious, emotional smile that made Santana's pulse quicken.
"Thank you," Brittany said, her voice cracking slightly. "I'll do anything to get back, I promise."
To you. Santana knew that that was what Brittany meant and it made her heart burst. Brittany would do anything to get back to her. She remembered that she told Dave something similar three years before when he was warning her about the arena, but quickly pushed the thought out of her head. She pressed their lips together chastely once more before pulling apart again.
"We should go," Santana said softly. She saw Brittany's eyes widened in alarm and immediately opened her mouth again to explain before Brittany thought she had done something wrong. "I'm supposed to train you. I told Mags and Dave to back off and that I would train you by myself."
"Can't we do that here?"
Santana faltered for a moment.
"No," she spoke carefully. "Time is running out. I mean really train. In the Training Center."
Brittany nodded and let out an inaudible 'oh'. Santana watched Brittany's eyes flicker around the room in thought before she nodded again, but more confidently.
"Okay," Brittany said, loud and with a voice full of conviction. "Anything, right?"
"Anything," Santana repeated.
She was trying not to be terrified, for Brittany's sake. Santana tried not to think about whether or not Brittany would be able to even learn to defend herself and if she, herself, would be able to even teach her without vomiting. She tried not to think about how scared Brittany looked the day before when Santana had been attacking the training dummy. She tried not to think about who or what Brittany would face in the arena in less than two weeks. She pushed all those thoughts out of her head. She definitely did not need to think about them. She told herself that it was for Brittany's sake. Deep down inside, Santana knew that if she even took half of a second to think about them, she would break down. But she couldn't.
Anything, she heard Brittany's voice say in her head. Brittany would do anything to get back.
And Santana would do anything to get her back.
Thanks for reading :) Shout-out to my awesome beta, manatees-have-thick-skin, for being awesome. I hope everyone liked the chapter :) Review!
PS- In true Glee fashion, I am using the "friends talking with their tongues super close" explanation for Brittana's relationship in right now.