Title: The Only Choice
Author: crammit
Fandom: Glee
Rating: M
Pairing: Santana/Brittany
Timeline: AU - Vampire fic
Summary: When Brittany walked into Santana's inn all those years ago, neither knew just how much their lives would change. When a dark force from Santana's past threatens to destroy those she loves, she'll stop at nothing to protect them. Rated M for sex, language, and mild violence

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A/N: Glee and its characters do not belong to me. I am only borrowing them. I promise to put them back right where I found them once I'm done. Also, vamp lore is made up and doesn't follow any specific vampire mythology.

A/N: I just wanted to take a moment to thank everyone who has been reading (I see those views :-D ), commenting, and/or sending me encouraging PMs. I never thought this story would have this many chapters (and there are a good more to go, if what my brain is telling me is right *lol*) and most of it is due to people actually reading it, even if you don't comment, it's very encouraging to see the views go up for each chapter. So, thanks for sticking with me with this story. I'm actually kinda proud of it. :-)


The next night was filled with a combination of mundane activity and intense interrogations of our prisoners. More of Victor's men had shown up along with a handful of men that Marcus had sent and between them and us, we'd been able to gather and take stock of supplies and weapons. Some of our allies that had remained behind in town had opened their homes to us and between the supply buildings and a few of the main halls, all of the men and women in our camp were taken care of. I'd left the first round of interrogations to Robert and Bastian in the hopes that the traitors might be intimidated by an initial show of strength. All signs seemed to indicate that the prisoners were banding together in their refusal to answer any of our questions and I'd been hearing reports all night of the growing frustration in the stockade.

"Fuckers..."

Looking up from the map, I cross my arms over my chest as Robert makes his way over to me, throwing himself back into an abandoned chair with a growl. Waiting a few seconds to see if he would elaborate, I grab a stool and go sit next to him, accepting two mugs of whiskey from you with a smile. Handing one of the mugs to Robert, I lean into your side as you drape your arm around my shoulder. "I take it they aren't talking yet?"

"If by talking you mean telling us what we want to know, then no. But if by talking you mean incessant babbling about how it's only a matter of time before Lucas' vengeance sweeps down from the mountain and destroys us? Then yes, we've been having grand old conversations."

Finishing my mug as Robert grumbles into his drink, I tap my fingers against the cup and try to think of what we should do next. Your fingers have taken to kneading the back of my neck lightly and I turn my head, your eyes calm as you glance down when I speak to you. "Brittany, what do you suggest?"

"Oh, well...I don't know. I don't know anything about questioning prisoners."

"No," Standing, I place my mug on the table and face you, smiling to ease the discomfort I can feel coming from you. "But you know how to talk to people. Force and threats don't seem to be working. Beating answers out of them isn't the solution either."

"Give me a few more turns and we'll see."

Glaring back at Robert's interruption, I snatch his mug away when he goes to take another sip of whiskey, downing the rest of it at his huff of annoyance. Waiting until he leans back in the chair with a mumbled 'sorry', I look back at you with an encouraging smile. "Sometimes an outside perspective can help. What do you think?"

Moving to lean against the table, you look down at your hands as I sit back on the stool, reaching out to kick at Robert's foot so he'll sit up straight while you answer. I can see you biting the corner of your lip as an idea forms, the edge of your thoughts teasing into my mind as you look first at me and then at Robert. "This is going to sound horrible."

Smiling at you, Robert jerks his thumb over his shoulder towards the direction of the stockade, shrugging his shoulders as he encourages you. "Trust me. It couldn't possibly be any worse than having to listen to their blind faith in that bastard Lucas. Like he gives two shits about them now."

"I was just thinking, I mean…if they aren't scared to be here because they think that Lucas will come and save them, why not put them in a situation where he can't come save them?"

"How do you mean, love?"

"What did Cian say about the Royal Family? Tie them up and toss them out into the Sun?"

Robert's snort of laughter draws my gaze and I wave him off, reaching for your hand to get you to look at me. "What are you suggesting?"

Brushing your hair over one shoulder, you look out the window towards the courtyard before answering me. "Why not tie them to posts in the middle of town before sunrise? Lucas is bound like us by the night so he wouldn't be able to do anything and they'll know that. If they want to be spared, they'll talk and if not, they aren't talking anyway so…"

I feel my brow furrow at your almost casual mention of their probable deaths in that scenario, my heart aching a little at what this fighting might be doing to you. My unease is interrupted by Robert standing up with a big grin on his face, clapping you hard enough on the shoulder to knock you away from the table. "That's a brilliant idea. Brittany, you're a genius. I'll go speak with Bastian about it now."

Giving myself a few moments to mull over what you suggested, I move to the table and roll up the map, refilling the whiskey in my mug and taking a sip as you come to stand next to me. "What is it, San?"

"It's nothing."

Running your hand along my back, you take the mug from my hands and take a sip, smiling as I laugh lightly at your cough as the whiskey burns your throat. Reclaiming my mug, I finish the final sip and place it on the table, reaching up to wipe at an errant drop on your bottom lip. "Easy with that, sweetheart. That's not the honey mead you're used to."

"I don't know how you guys drink that stuff."

Leaning forward to kiss your cheek, I hold your hand and lead you out of the main hall, nodding at the guards stationed at the entrance. Lacing our fingers together, I lead us away from the hustle and bustle going on in the center of town, purposely walking in the opposite direction of the stockade. Taking a deep breath, I try to imagine that we are simply on a moonlight stroll and not about to embark on a most dangerous endeavor. Cresting the top of a small hill, I stop and lean back against a low fence, kissing the back of your hand before pulling you stand between my legs, your arms going around my waist without hesitation. Content to just hold you, I wrap my arms around your shoulders, closing my eyes as your lips rest lightly against the side of my neck. For a few minutes, I clear my mind of all my worries and simply open myself to our connection, your love washing over me like warm water. I feel the sudden urge to cry and your arms tighten around my waist, your lips moving to my cheek as you whisper to me softly. "It's okay, Santana. You're okay."

The tears come then, sobs escaping my lips where they are buried against your shoulder, my hands clinging to fistfuls of your shirt. I can feel your own sadness at my tears but you keep your hands moving soothingly across my back, humming a tune I don't recognize as you let me cry against you. Being held by you, I can finally let some of this emotion break, all the guilt over leaving you…all the fear over what we might find once we entered Brogan's Point…the sorrow over taking lives even if it was to save others…the worry over Cian's continued absence. It all rushes out in hot tears and labored breath for long minutes until I feel a creeping tiredness sink into my body. Pulling back from your embrace, I wipe my hands across my face, sniffling and trying to take even breaths as I let the last of my tears fall. Looking up, I see your own tears reflected in the moonlight and I reach my fingers up to brush them away from your cheeks, pulling you forward into a gentle kiss. Leaning back, I keep my hands cupped around your jaw as your hands find their way to the back of my neck, returning your small smile as you brush your fingers through my sweaty hair. "Everything is going to be okay."

Looking into your blue eyes, I want so much to believe in the simplicity of your words but I feel my anxiety grow again as I remember the conversation we just had with Robert, your words mixing with the image of you standing on the edge of battle with a knife at your hip. Pulling you closer, I close my eyes as I rest my forehead against yours, my voice breaking as I give voice to my fears. "I want to believe you, Brittany. I want to believe in that but it's tearing me up that you have to be exposed to this. There's innocence in you, love. And I can see it being chipped away at the longer this goes on and it's killing me."

Tightening your fingers, you pull back so I can look at you, your gaze intense as you respond to me. "You didn't expose me to this, Santana."

"How can you say that?"

"Lucas did. The night he came and killed my family and destroyed everything I knew." Sliding your hands over my shoulders, you reach one hand down and pull out my pendant from under my shirt before reaching for your own and holding it between us, the unity of the gesture not lost on me. "You saved me. The night I came to your inn, you could have so easily just turned me away, but you didn't. You didn't and because of that, I have an eternity to spend with the person I love at my side. What you gave me was a gift and I am grateful for that every day."

Helpless against the truth of your words, I tug you forward into a desperate kiss, chasing the tears I can still taste on your lips with my tongue. As you shift the angle of the kiss, I can feel your love brushing against the sharp edges of my guilt, smoothing them down until they no longer ache. Gently pulling back, I greet your smile with one of my own, accepting your kiss to my palm with a contented sigh. "I promise I will get us through this, Brittany. I will protect you and keep you safe and I will spend every day being worthy of your love. The night you came into my inn changed my life and I will do everything in my power to see that our life together is long and happy."

"Long and happy and we'll never grow old."

Laughing through a few final tears, I kiss the tip of your nose. "No, love. We'll never grow old."

Growing serious again, you brush my hair back from my face, your eyes flicking between mine as you speak. "I know it bothered you what I said before, my suggestion to Robert."

Averting my gaze, I look back up at you as you gently press your fingers under my chin. Shrugging my shoulders, I let out a small sigh as I force myself to hold your gaze. "It's not the suggestion itself. Given what we are dealing with, it's a good tact to try it's just…I don't like that I've put you in a position to have to think of things like that."

"I'm not as innocent as you think I am. Not after these last few months and especially not after this last week."

"I know that. I do." Dropping my hands to rest against your lower back, I let my eyes trace the whorls of your pendant before looking back at you. "I just want to protect you from as much as I can. Maybe that makes me old-fashioned and if so, I'll accept that."

Smiling, you lean forward and press a kiss to the corner of my mouth, nuzzling against my cheek until I smile back at you. Reaching up, you tuck my pendant back inside my shirt and leave your hands resting against the top of my chest, your eyes bright in the moonlight as you grin at me. "I love that you're old-fashioned. Opening doors for me, always letting me bathe while the water is at its warmest, trying to make sure you give me pleasure first…"

When your voice drops at that last statement, I feel the blush burn across my cheeks as you laugh, pulling me in for a quick hug before stepping back and taking my hands in yours. Nodding back towards the center of town, your voice is soft as you squeeze my hands. "What do you say? Are you ready to head back?"

Looking down the hill, I can see the torches being lit as the activity around the stockade starts to pick up. Pulling you forward, I let go of your hands and slide my hands around your back, tucking your body between my hips as I lean my weight back against the fence. "Um, do you think we could stay here for just a few minutes longer?"

With an understanding smile, you nod your head and sink into my embrace, resting your cheek against my shoulder as I close my eyes and hold you close to me.


After returning from the hill, I'd forced myself to head to the stockade and speak with Robert, leaving you to go back to the main hall and see about getting us dinner. Heading down the stairs, I slowly take the last few steps, the tension in the room forcing the ochre into my eyes, my teeth clicking down into a snarl as the prisoner closest to me snaps his teeth in my direction. A quick backhand from one of Victor's men forces him back towards the wall but I can feel his hateful eyes following me as I make my way over to where Robert is speaking with Bastian.

"Are they still not talking?"

Bastian gives a disgusted glance to where the prisoners are gathered before shaking his head in the negative.

Looking at Robert, I gesture to the lengths of rope in his hand. "Have you explained to them what is to happen in a few hours?"

"Not yet but I was about to."

"I'll do it."

At Robert's nod, I turn and face the men gathered in chains against the wall of the stockade. Meeting each of their eyes in turn, I incline my head towards them as I raise my voice loud enough so they will all be able to hear me. "I take it you all know who I am."

"Weak whore to the humans. Lucas is going to destroy you and I can't wait to see it."

Slowly looking over to the man who spoke, I tuck my hands into my pockets and smile at him. "I am nobody's whore."

A sharp laugh draws my attention and I walk over to a bearded man, who meets my stare with a twisted grin. "Oh, we know all about you, whore. Protecting the humans when all they should be used for is food and sport. And pleasure, of course. But I guess you would know all about that, with that blonde bitch you took for your own. Lucas has special plans for her."

Holding my hand out at my side, I stop Robert from advancing on the one who spoke, taking a few calming breaths before stepping closer to the prisoner. "I should drive a stake through your heart right now for that."

"Do it, bitch. There are a hundred more just like me. You can't stop us all."

Grinning sharply at the man, I spin away from him and pick up one of the lengths of rope before moving to stand in front of the center of the group. "Maybe not. But for now, you twelve will have to do. You have three hours to decide if you want to talk. If you don't give us the information we are looking for, you will be tied to the posts outside and left there at sunrise."

Throwing the rope to the ground at their feet, I meet each of their eyes before moving to head up the stairs. "See if Lucas will save you then."

Stepping out of the stockade, I take a deep inhale of the cool night air, forcing myself to relax and keeping my eyes closed until they change back, my teeth sliding back into place just as I become aware of your stare. Opening my eyes, I see you standing outside the main hall, waiting for me as two of Bastian's men talk around you.

Are you okay?

Yes, love.

Come inside and have dinner with me. And save me from this boring discussion about cattle feed.

Smiling as I watch you excuse yourself and head into the main hall, I wave to Bastian's men as I hurry past them, laughing as I hear the tail end of their conversation. Hurrying forward, I snag your hand before we enter the main room, kissing your fingers as I lead us over to one of the dining tables. "What? Don't you want to know which grain holds up better in colder climates?"

Releasing your hand with a grin as you roll your eyes, I reach forward and pull one of the chairs back, placing a kiss to the top of your head as you sit down. Moving to sit across from you, I grab the pitcher of heated blood and pour each of us a glass, waiting until you take your first sip before bringing mine to my lips. Placing my hand on the table in front of you for you to hold, I watch you look thoughtfully at the pitcher before looking back at me. "San, do you ever miss eating food?"

"Sometimes. Why? Do you?"

"Yes," Looking across the room to where some of our familiars were eating their dinner, you glance down at the blood in your mug with a small shrug. "I know that we can eat their food, if needed, for appearances and stuff. Even though we might as well be eating our pillow stuffing for how bland it tastes. I don't know. Sometimes I just miss having all those options when you sit down at a table, you know?"

"I do," Running my fingers across the back of your hand, I take a sip of blood before putting the mug down so I can hold your hand with both of mine. "There are other ways of getting the blood we need other than just drinking from mugs or feeding from familiars."

"Really?"

"Yes," Smiling at you, I let go of your hand and reach over for the pitcher, refilling both of our glasses as you run your thumb over my knuckles. "Tell you what, once we are back home, we'll spend a whole night experimenting to find the ways you like best. How does that sound?"

"That sounds awesome, Santana. Do you think we could…"

Turning around at the sound of raised voices, I let go of your hand and stand, taking a few steps towards the entrance before I'm brought up short by the sight of a familiar face walking through the door. "Cian?"

The anger I expected to feel crumbles at the first sign of his dimples as he smiles tentatively at me, bending at the waist in a bow. "Santana."

Walking forward, I pull him up by his shoulders, watching as his smile gets a little wider when he spots you over my shoulder. Feeling his solid form beneath my hands, I give in to my relief and pull him into a hug, closing my eyes as he presses a kiss against my temple. Stepping away as he lets me go to pull you into a hug, my eyes are drawn to the doorway where Robert is speaking with a raven-haired woman I don't recognize.

Meeting Cian's eyes as he steps back in front of me, I reach back and punch him squarely in the shoulder, ignoring your whispered admonishment as I poke him in the chest with my finger. "If you ever leave again like that, without telling me where you're off to, I swear I will kill you. Do you understand?"

Grinning as he rubs his shoulder, Cian's eyes are soft as he reaches his other hand to hold onto my fist. "Yes, Mistress. Death next time. I got it."

"Cian, I'm being serious. Do you have any idea the kind of grief you've given me these past few days? Not knowing where you were, if you were okay, if I'd even see you again…"

At that, Cian stops rubbing his shoulder, stepping closer to me as his face gets serious. "Santana, I never meant to scare you like that. I was angry when I left but I should have sent word. For that, I am truly sorry. You know you mean the world to me, darling. I hope you can forgive me."

"Cian, where have you been?"

Before he can answer me, Robert approaches with the woman at his side, moving to stand next to you as you step closer to me. Watching as Cian gestures for her to approach, I square my shoulders and nod my head in her direction. "Who is this?"

Instead of answering, Cian reaches into his vest pocket, withdrawing a folded letter and handing it to me. Still looking at the woman, I take the letter but hold it unopened in my hand, arching my eyebrow as she calmly looks back me. "Who are you?"

"Rebekkah, Mistress."

"What are you doing here?" Glancing at Cian as he points at the letter, I feel my irritation spike as neither the woman nor Cian answers my question. Your hand settles against my back and I force myself to take a calming breath, finally looking down at the paper in my hand. "What is this?"

"A letter."

"I can see that, Cian. Who is it from?"

Cian looks to the woman first, her eyes still holding mine, before he faces me again, clearing his throat before answering me. "It's from your father."