Love Mechanisms Chapter 11: Distantly Close, a glee fanfic

Made up some characters in this, guess I own rights to those ones. Hold onto your chairs ladies and gents, it's about to get twisted up in here.

SANTANA POV

The four of us sat in the office not saying a word. James and I sat on the couch with Brittany in between us opposite Delilah while the therapist sat aside and watched us interact, taking notes as she went.

"This is ridiculous, say something," Brittany demanded of Delilah.

This is a side of Brittany I had never seen before. Normally one touch could calm her down but I'm giving her space on this one.

"Brittany I'm sorry, there's no excuse, I -"

"Cut the bull shit, mom, I want to know the reason why you up and left us," her words dripping with venom.

The woman visibly deflated. Four eyes were on her intently.

She took a few shaky breaths before talking. "At the time, I thought it was the right thing to do, but not a day went by where I wasn't thinking about you and missing you and wishing I could be there for you the way James was."

I look over at the man, but he shows on emotion.

"Then your grandmother got sick. Her health was deteriorating ever since your grandfather passed away in the accident. I thought I would fly out to North Carolina, take care of her for a few weeks, then come back home once she passed. It took a year, she died peacefully in her sleep. By then I didn't want to come back, as selfish as that sounds. I knew I couldn't stand the thought of losing my daughter to the racing world. You were destined to be a phenomenal racer, it's in your blood after all. I stayed in North Carolina for the funeral, but after that I traveled a bit. I always wondered what could've been if I had returned, but I couldn't hold you back from your destiny. The way you came home from that first race, ecstatic that you beat out all the boys to win first place, I just knew. I would've held you back. And that's not what mothers are supposed to do. I needed to let you go in order for you to follow your dreams. But baby, you have to understand. Not a day goes by that I don't regret it. It was the biggest fucking mistake of my life. Brittany, I am so, so sorry. I hurt you more than words can express. I know that now. Seeing the way you reacted when you first saw me, I almost turned away and ran again. But I will not make the same mistake twice."

Brittany was on the verge of crying. She folded her arms across her chest protectively.

"Why now?" she asked calmly. "Why come back now?"

"I saw what that St. James kid did to you, it was all over the news. One look at your picture in the paper and I was shoving my shit in a suitcase and booking a flight. I didn't want to overwhelm you so I waited a while. . . and here I am."

Brittany pursed her lips and nodded wearily.

"I'm afraid that's our time for today," the therapist said, "But it's a good start and I believe this family can make a lot of progress. Would you like to schedule an another appointment before you leave?"

We all look to Brittany hesitantly. She looks to me for affirmation. With my eyes I tell her "It's your decision, I'll support you no matter what."

She looks to James and finds the same response.

She nods slowly. "Yeah, sure, do that. I'll be out in the car. I need some space right now."

We let her go. Delilah and Mr. P share an awkward goodbye. James drives me back to Pucks. The ride home is silent. Brittany sits in the back and stares out the window void of emotion. I sit in the front and do the same.

"Thanks Mr. P," I say climbing out of the car, "Call me if you need anything." I walk around to Brittany's side of the car and she rolls the window down. I caress her cheek and she leans into my touch. "You know where to find me," I say. She nods. I place a lingering kiss to her forehead and watch as the car pulls away before turning back up the walkway.

Brittany Pov

When we get home my dad tries to coax me into comfort food and our favorite movie, but I climb the steps three at a time, not even bothering to look at him let alone respond. I throw on some sweatpants and a hoodie and take off.

Eminem's "Headlights" blares through my headphones on repeat as I sprint around the neighborhood running on adrenaline and rage. I don't know how long I spend out there, but I find myself at an empty park in the middle of the night. The dull lamppost illuminates a lone swing off to the side.

"Mama push me!" a five year old, front-teeth-missing Brittany yelled from the swing. They were having a mommy-and-me day. After a long day of shopping, feeding the ducks, and getting ice-cream, they found themselves at the new park on the edge of the neighborhood.

"Okay, sweetie, I'm coming," came the chuckling reply. "Hold on tight," she said pulling back.

"Higher mommy higher," giggled the girl.

"Kick your legs out when you go forward and bring them in when you come back down," Delilah told her.

"I'm flying mommy!" the kid grinned.

"The sky is the limit, baby" the adult whispered even though the little girl couldn't hear her.

"Mom stop!" the girl gasped suddenly. The woman grabbed the side of the swing and halted it to a stop.

Brittany jumped up and grabbed her mom's hand, dragging her to the giant slide effectively.

"Hurry up, turtle," She complained climbing the steps of the jungle gym.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," Delilah answered.

The woman got to the top to see her daughter staring down the slide, hesitant.

"You wanted to go down honey, I'll be right behind you holding you the entire time," she reassured.

The kid sat down and backed into her mother's comforting arms.

"One," Said Delilah.

"Two" mimicked Brittany.

"Three!" they both yelled and pushed off.

They were both laughing at the end of the slide.

"That was so much fun," grinned the girl. "Let's do it again!" she said jumping up.

"Maybe you can, Britt-Britt. I'll watch you from the bottom and catch you," she explained.

The girl ran back up the jungle gym and bolted right down the no longer scary slide. Delilah picked up her baby girl and spun her around, peppering sloppy kisses all over her face, causing the girl to laugh uncontrollably.

"Stop, mommy, stop, please, hahaha, okay, okay," she pleaded between breaths.

"Okay, but only because you said please," teased the woman putting the girl down.

Brittany stuck her tongue out and took off in the opposite direction, mama Pierce hot on her trail.

Brittany sneered at the memory. She was so fucking mad that she stood up and pulled the old, rusty swing right off its hinges. She threw it to the ground and sped off in the direction of the road leading just outside of town.

"Pierce" I said simply to the half asleep boy at the check-in desk of the motel. He hit a few buttons on the computer and replied groggily "Room 7."

I nodded once and took a sharp pivot around. It was one in the morning but I sure as hell wasn't going to let that deter me. I knocked persistently on the door until she opened up and I barged passed her.

"Brittany, what are you doing here," she asked clearly surprised.

I folded my arms across my chest like HBIC and spoke, "You knew I was destined to race, you said so yourself, It's in my blood. You married Dad anyway and had me. We were fine. You didn't have to be involved in my racing life if you didn't want to. And clearly you didn't, I know you purposefully skipped my first race. I wasn't mad at you. You supported me when I came home in one piece and that was enough for me. You loved dad more than anything, except me maybe, you loved us equally more than anything else in this fucking world. He was your soul mate and I was your lovechild. So what's the real reason you left us?"

"Brittany, I'm not lying to you, I told you alread-"

The slap echoed against the dull motel walls and both women stood there shocked. I took a step back and looked at my hand with an indescribable feeling. Delilah put a hand up to her cheek, an automatic reaction.

"Mom, I'm so sor-"

"No. No. Don't apologize. I deserved that," came the faint reply.

I turned to look for a fridge and luckily there was ice in the freezer. I found a towel and wrapped it around it, securing it with the hair tie right out of my ponytail.

She sat on the bed. I walked over and handed it to her, sitting down next to her with some space between us.

She turned to me slowly. "You wouldn't have understood when you were younger, but I think you're old enough now. There's no easy way to say this, and I'll understand if you never forgive me. I don't even forgive me. But you have to promise that what I'm about to tell you stays between us and us only. Not even that girl you're with can know."

"Santana. Her name is Santana. And she is the love of my life, so I expect you to treat her as such."

Delilah nods. "Can you promise me, Brittany?"

Now it's my turn to nod.

She remains silent for a while. I boldly grab the hand not holding ice to her wound.

"Britt-Britt," she uses my childhood nickname, "I cheated on your father. It was a one night fling and the stupidest thing I ever did. I was pregnant with another man's child when you were six years old. I couldn't face the guilt I had when I looked into your father's eyes and yours that matched his. I didn't have the courage to stick around and face the consequences when the kid came into this world and looked nothing like us. So I ran. But then, four months into the pregnancy, it was a baby boy, I lost him. Just woke up one morning drowning in blood. I had a panic attack in my sleep from a nightmare about losing the baby. I guess Karma has a mysterious way of showing up whenever the hell it damn pleases. I was so, so fucking angry at myself. Not just about the one-night-stand, but mostly about losing another child when I had control over it the first time. I never appreciated you as much as I did that morning," she sets the ice down and runs a cold finger across my forehead, sweeping away bangs covering my tear stained face.

I curl myself into her arms the way I did when I was four and I first watched Tarzan. And I cried, and cried, and cried. She held me firmly and rocked me back and forth as I kept sobbing into her night shirt. Strangled breaths and screams escaped my throat as I clutched her for dear life. Not another word is said as I slowly fall limp in her arms.

The next day I'm distantly close to Santana. I don't say much but the support that emanates from her presence and the small touches is exactly what I need.

We're in glee club, it's a Tuesday and we're starting our pieces for the assignment "Change it Up" where we take a song's lyrics but put them on a different melody so it sounds completely different.

"Any volunteers to go first?" Mr. Schue asks.

"Me," Santana says confidently, hand raised.

"The floor is yours," he indicates.

Brad plays the opening chords on the piano. Santana's hand taps the rhythm on her track pant clad thigh. Her raspy voice fills the room but her eyes remain focused on me, indicating she's singing about my situation to give me the courage to as well.

On the subject of you being gone forever
I still can't believe it, I can't see it
I should just stop counting days
On the subject of the future
Wouldn't it be nice to leave it open-ended
And pretend it could go either way

If I could have you back again
I'd think about it once or twice, I guess
If I could have you back
I'd reconsider, maybe I'd say yes
On the other hand it would be
Better to have a life

Without the constant indecision over
If I could have you back
If I could have you back

On the topic of the time we spent together
I can't say I never wondered

if you ever think about these days

If I could have you back again
I'd think about it once or twice, I guess
If I could have you back
I'd reconsider, maybe I'd say yes
On the other hand it would be
Better to have a life
Without the constant indecision over

If I could have you back

It's game over
You lost this round
And now I guessed I've turned you down
Thanks for all the lessons learned
I'm taking in what I have heard
(Practice makes perfect)

The powerful, hauntingly beautiful melody fades and Santana smiles sheepishly as the room gives her a standing O.

"Wow, Santana, that just blew my mind," Schuester says, "Anyone brave enough to follow that?"

I lean my head on Santana's shoulder and she wraps an arm around me while Puck performs an acoustic version of "Keep Holding On".

On Wednesday I work up the courage to perform my song. It's a metal cover of Christina Aguilera's "Just a Fool" with instruments that create a faint rain like melody in the mix.

Another shot of whiskey please bartender
Keep it coming 'til I don't remember at all
How bad it hurts when you're gone (no, no, no, no)

Turn the music up a little bit louder
Just gotta get past the midnight hour (uh, huh)
Maybe tomorrow it won't be this hard

Who am I kidding?
I know what I'm missing

Oh, I had my heart set on you
But nothing else hurts like you do
Who knew that love was so cruel (yeah, yeah, yeah)
And I waited and waited so long
For someone who'll never come home
It's my fault to think you'll be true (yeah, yeah)
I'm just a fool
(Yeah)

I say that I don't care and walk away, whatever
And I tell myself we were bad together (uh, huh)
But that's just me trying to move on without you

But who am I kidding?
I know what I'm missing

I, I had my heart set on you
But nothing else hurts like you do
Who knew that love was so cruel (yeah, yeah, yeah)
And I waited and waited so long
For someone who'll never come home
It's my fault to think you'll be true (yeah, yeah)
I'm just a fool

For holding onto something that's
Never ever gonna come back
I can't accept that it's lost

I should've let it go
Held my tongue
Kept my

big mouth shut
'Cause now everything is just wrong, wrong, wrong

I'm just a fool
A fool for you
I'm just a fool

I, I had my heart set on you (uh)
But nothing else hurts like you do
Who knew that love was so cruel (yeah, yeah, yeah)
I waited and waited so long
For someone who'll never come home
It's my fault to think you'll be true (yeah, yeah)
I'm just a fool
I'm just a fool
I'm just a fool

It's my fault to think you'll be true (yeah, yeah, yeah)
I'm just a fool

I'm breathing erratically when it's over, but I feel lighter, like it needed to be done to get some of this bottled up anger out of my chest. Santana gives me a tight hug as the glee club claps, but all I can focus on are the arms wrapped around me. The club disperses for the evening but Santana and I remain embraced in the middle of the room.

"You ready?" She asks me softly, pulling back slightly.

"Yeah," I say, "I needed that." She smiles in acknowledgement.

The ride over to the therapist's office is mostly silent. Santana holds my hand and hums to the radio while she drives.

Delilah has requested to speak to my dad alone first, so Santana pulls me down to straddle her on one of the waiting room chairs and pushes her tongue through my cotton candy glossed lips.

"I'm so proud of you," she whispers between kisses.

Meanwhile in the other room. . .

JAMES POV

We are sitting side by side, thighs touching on the couch. My hands are clasped in front of me, rubbing nervously. Delilah is next to me, staring at me stare at the rug beneath my feet.

She puts one hand on top of mine to steady my nerves, the way she did on our first date, and my body reacts as it always did. The butterflies in my stomach swarm chaotically and a faint blush crosses my cheeks.

We both look up at the same time, blue eyes meeting as if it's the first time again, and the world fades away.

She smiles sadly at me and I reverse our hands so that mine are hold hers securely.

She rubs her free hand over my bald head, gives one caress to my neck softly, before dropping it back down and sighing tiredly.

"James," she laughs at herself and shakes her head, clearing her thoughts so that she can speak from the heart. "Thank you, first of all, for giving me this opportunity. You still mean more to me than the world, planets, and universe combined. You were always honest with me. . . and now it's time for me to do the same. James, I, I had an affair."

My eyebrows knit in confusion. She wouldn't. She couldn't. She loved me, didn't she? We were soul mates. At least I thought we were, I think bitterly.

"Who?" I ask rather calmly.

She's silent for what seems like forever. "Do you remember," she begins, "That party the night before the championship race, the one you didn't want to go to because you were determined to prove that racing meant nothing anymore now that you had a family. But I convinced you to go because I knew deep deep down that racing would always be a part of your life no matter how hard you tried. I told you there was no harm in going, you already retired as a racer and you just wanted to show your support and lend helpful advice to the next generation of racers. We dropped Brittany off at my sister's house and spent an hour getting ready for this gathering."

She laughs at the memory and I can't help but let out a small smile remembering it myself. We were both still young and so in love and well, there were so many distractions needless to say.

She takes another shaky breath and starts up again. "When we got there I saw your eyes light up like they did before every race. You hugged your old racer pals but always made sure to introduce me as the best thing that's ever happened to you."

Instinctively I brush away a stray tear rolling down her cheek with my thumb.

"Then after dinner was served, you went up to make a toast to the racers, wishing them luck and whatnot. Afterwards, god James I was so proud of you, you managed to amaze me with every moment that passed. Well, apparently everyone else thought so, too. They all swarmed you. And being the gentleman you are, you greeted each and every one of them with a warm smile and open arms. But one person wasn't as interested in you as he was me." She pauses and looks down. "Rob McGrath."

I grit my teeth. Rob McGrath was a sore loser and a fucking douche bag straight up. He had lost to me in the last race I competed in and took first. He was spiteful ever since.

"He gave me a glass of wine, started chatting me up about your retirement, and next thing I know I'm following him up the steps of this stranger's house and not looking back."

I take a few minutes to process the words, but something's not adding up. I know Delilah better than I know anybody else on this entire fucking planet, Brittany included.

"He raped you!" I accuse, jumping up in fury.

"Mr. Pierce please sit down," the therapist tries.

Delilah gapes and tries to shake her head, but it's no use. I turn and send my fist through the fucking wall.

"I'm going to fucking kill that bastard," I seethe. Brittany and Santana are at the doorway in an instant.

I'm standing in front of them, fists bloody and clenched at my side. "Girls, please move," I try as calmly as fucking outraged as possible.

Santana steps up in my personal space, knowing I won't as much dare touch a hair on her head.

She grabs my bloody clenched fists in her thin hands and unravels them, palms facing up. I look down at the tan hands placed softly over my big pale ones. She's staring at me with the most serene expression on her face.

"I've already lost one father, Mr. Pierce, don't let me lose another one," she whispers to me.

The aggravation fades from my body and I deflate, pulling the girl into a soft but firm hug.

"Okay, Santana, okay," I repeat.

Brittany stands by, tears pooling in her eyes, so I open my arms up and she joins in, creating a Santana-Sandwich.

I look back and see Delilah sitting there, eyes pleading for forgiveness and acceptance.

I let the girls go as they continue to embrace. I slowly walk over to my wife and get down on one knee opening up my arms for invitation. She flings herself into my neck and sobs tears of happiness.

There's still a lot that has to be discussed, but I think. . . we're going to be okay.