Thanks for reading! Ignore the typos, or don't and volunteer to be my beta! :/ Follow me on Tumblr for randomness and art. Oh and lots and lots of Brittana, of course. g0dblessthefandom on Tumblr.
Santana knew where her mother liked to hang out. She had just started running when she'd left the Jones' house, bursting out the back door and into the night. She hadn't known where she was going, just that the tears were stinging her eyes were making it hard for her to see. But her legs had known what her heart had wanted more than her brain had, and after about ten minutes of sprinting aimlessly, and then jogging, she'd recognized the neighborhood. It was the place that one of her dates had pointed out to her once, suggesting that he had seen her mother there more than once. It was that dark period in her life when she was still pretending to be someone she wasn't. Mostly because she was sure that it would have killed her father if she had told him that she was a lesbian. The boy had been so proud of himself, letting Santana know that he knew where her mother was sometimes to be found. She had been so disgusted at him that when he tried to kiss her before dropping her off, she'd kicked him so hard in the balls that he avoided her until graduation.
It was more than dark when she arrived, and the sparse streetlights that hung above did little to dispel the gloom. In fact, they managed to make things spookier than if the street had just been illuminated by moonlight. There were a few run down houses, mostly inhabited by people who were high on more than life. They were crappy little shacks that were pretty much just four walls supporting a roof. She wrapped her arms around her body, and wished she'd brought a jacket. The air wasn't so chilly, but Santana felt a shiver go down her spine regardless. She saw a shadow cross a few feet ahead, and stopped dead in her tracks.
"Is anybody there?" She called out, in a voice that was little more than a whisper.
Hearing her own voice echo back at her, she walked a bit further down the street until she saw the house that the boy had pointed out to her. It was a bit different than the rest. Instead of a run down, dilapidated hovel, this was more of a victorian mansion. Like, one of those houses that you'd see in a southern gothic novel. It was still run down, but it was also carefully maintained, so that things were a little worn, but not ravaged.
It was two stories, that she could see, with dark shutters that bracketed every window. Every second landing on the house revealed a new treasure. From the designs cut in wood that hung over the front door, to the wrought iron trellis that wrapped around the yard. There was some part of it that was distinctly beautiful to Santana, and she knew why her mother was drawn to it.
Santana stood on the curb for a few moments, breathing deeply. There was a faint tangy smell to the air that she couldn't immediately place, but she shook it off, and put her hand on the gate of the fence, opening it with a creak. She hesitated, lifting up one foot to cross the threshold, and then withdrawing it slowly. The debate that was raging in her mind showed no signs of letting up, so she shifted slightly from foot to foot. The desperation that she had been feeling so fully only a few moments before being replaced with a kind of slow caution.
"Never seen you before." Said a feline voice behind her.
Santana whipped around, backing up against the gate, and coming face to face with the owner of the voice. He was young, older than her, but still a teenager. He was tall, his skin a cypress brown, and his eyes staring daggers into her own. Even with the inspection, Santana felt both parts piece of meat, and the most desired object in the universe. She had never been looked at by a man like that before, and had never wanted to. Until now.
"I-I'm looking for someone."
"Who?" He asked, matter of factly.
"My mom."
"Why?"
Santana found herself getting lost in his eyes, which were a fascinating obsidian, and without thinking much more about it, she answered.
"My dad. My dad is dead. I need her to come home."
"What's her name?"
The strange compulsion to answer struck her again, and she answered quickly.
"Julieta Lopez."
The young man laughed. "I knew you looked familiar. Julieta, huh? She's passed her good looks over to her daughter, it would seem." He gestured towards the house. "Come with me, and I'll show you where she is."
Santana might have thought back on this moment and wonder why she wasn't more suspicious of this man and why he was so willing to help her and why she was so willing to follow his instructions, but at the time it seemed like the most natural thing in the world to follow a complete stranger into a house that she'd never been in before, so she didn't question it further. She followed.
"I'm Sebastian, by the way." He said, smiling.
"Santana."
She hadn't taken comfort in that smile, only feeling the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. If there was a situation where she should take caution, it would be now. But they were only a few blocks from Lima Heights. That was where her abuela still lived and where she felt more than comfortable. She wouldn't let her fear get in her way now.
Sebastian led her up to the house, pushed open the door and with one hand on the knob, turned again and looked closely at her.
"Come in."
Santana didn't waste another moment, and stepped over the threshold.
The room was dark. Not just without light, but there seemed to be a gloom that hung over it. She could make out vague shapes out the corner of her eye, but nothing concrete. There was smell in the air that helped add to the oppressive atmosphere. Santana couldn't readily place it but it made her want to cover her nose and mouth, to help keep some of it out. It was just shy of rancid and reminded her of a piece of meat that had sat in the sun for too long.
Her eyes started to adjust to the lack of light, and the shapes became a little more solid and she could see an old couch sitting across from the door. There was another person sitting on the couch, though she could barely see them, and they seemed to perk up as she walked in.
"What have you go here, C-bass? Another toy?"
Sebastian closed the door behind them, and with a steady hand on the small of Santana's back, led them further into the room.
"You won't believe this, Griffin. She was outside wandering around, looking as lost as the day is long."
Griffin stood up, and approached them. As he got closer Santana could make out more of his features. He wasn't as young as she and Sebastian, he even had some grey around his temples. His sharp eyes were heavy under thick eyebrows, and a salt and pepper beard. They might have been blonde many years ago, but the color had long since faded.
Santana shivered as he looked her up and down.
"Rather young, isn't she?" Griffin said, his eyebrow quirking slightly.
"Maybe 13 or 14? Not too young."
Santana frowned. This wasn't going the way she planned it. She was in a strange place with two men that she didn't know from Adam, and if her mother was here, she wasn't really sure what she'd be doing with guys like Griffin and Sebastian-
Her thoughts were cut off when Griffin held out his hand for her to shake.
"Nice to meet you. Griffin O'Leary, at your service."
Santana took his hand gently, not really knowing what to do. She felt like she she should be nervous, but Sebastian's hand on her back anchored her, and she felt her worry slip away.
"Santana. Santana Lopez."
"Lopez?" Griffin quirked his eyebrow again, and looked at Sebastian. "As in-"
"One in the same. She's actually here looking for the fair Julieta. So, I thought we could arrange a meeting."
Griffin laughed mirthlessly. "Seems a little cruel, doesn't it?"
"Well, I do love a good family reunion."
There was something in this conversation that she was missing. Something very important, but Santana just shook it off. If they knew where her mother was, that's all that mattered. She had to get to her. Now more than ever. She had to.
She turned and faced Sebastian with a firm glare.
"Can you just take me to her, please? I need to see her as soon as possible."
Sebastian smiled and extended a hand deeper into the house. "Right this way."
She gave one last look to Griffin who regarded her with something akin to pity, and walked in the direction that Sebastian had pointed. He was still close behind her, and she could hear his footsteps, muffled by a hideous and disgusting carpet. It seemed strange to Santana that the house was so large, and yet it seemed that there wasn't another soul in the place. Such a big house for Sebastian and Griffin. It must get lonely.
They passed through another doorway, and down another hall, walking further and further until Santana was convinced that she was in some sort of funhouse maze. She had seen this place from the outside. It hadn't been that big. And yet here they were, taking a left and a right and another left, until Santana was so mixed up that she wasn't exactly sure which direction she'd even come from.
Finally, the hallway dead ended, and they came face to face with a closed door. Sebastian stepped in beside her, leaning against the wall like he didn't have a care in the world. The wolf like grin had yet to leave his face, and though a part of Santana should be scared, the moment she looked into his eyes, she felt completely at peace.
Sebastian nodded towards the door. "She's down there."
"W-what-" Santana hesitated as she focused back on the door. "What is she doing down there?"
"Waiting on you, it would seem. I'll leave you two to make your salutations."
With that he opened the door, and shoved Santana inside. She found herself at the top of a tall staircase, and heard the lock slide firmly into place behind her. Hearing the door closed, and getting out from under Sebastian's hard stare was like flipping a light on in her head. The fear and dread that had been kept at bay in her mind, washed over her. It was like the pit of her stomach dropped out. She could hear Sebastian laughing a little as he strode back down the hallway.
"What were you thinking, Lopez?!" She muttered to herself.
She'd never been that stupid before, and never let anyone get in her head like that before. And now she was locked in this house and had no way of contacting anyone. She kicked herself for running out before she grabbed her cellphone. If the Joneses were looking for her, the last place they'd come is some crack house on the south side of Lima Heights.
Her dad would have found her if…
She couldn't even finish the thought. Hot tears sprang up in her eyes almost immediately, and she pushed a clenched fist to muffle her sobs. She crumpled down onto the step, and waited for the quiet, shuddering breaths to stop.
The fight nearly all out of her, she sat there a bit longer, staring into the darkness below when she heard a faint gasp. She had nothing left to lose. Her father was dead. Her mother was who knows where, and now it was only a matter of time before Griffin and that creep Sebastian decided what they wanted to do with her. She bit the inside of her cheek. This was not a time for cowardice, and Santana Lopez was nothing if not brave.
She took a few tentative steps down the staircase, and was relieved when it barely squeaked under her weight. On the stairs it was even darker than the living room, but there seemed to be a window, and with the moonlight streaming through, Santana found that the further down she went, the brighter the room became. She was about halfway down when the step she landed on let out a massive creak. Santana froze where she stood, and listened as a light groan emanated from the corner of the basement. Looking closely, she could make out a small bed, on top of which was an even smaller form. She wasn't worried when she saw it. It seemed more likely to be a prisoner, like her, than someone who would try to hurt her.
She took another step, being careful about how her foot landed just in case. She made it down the rest of the steps with no more incidents, and took a small step towards the bed and the figure lying down.
"Hello?"
The figure seemed to grow rigid, and slowly, ever so slowly, turned towards her.
"Santana?"
"Mami?"
\
Brittany paced around Quinn's room like a dog pacing an animal pen. She was furious. Not with Santana or at Santana, but Santana was the cause of the anger that was swelling in her chest. Sure, maybe she had said some things that she'd take back if she could, but she knew that she'd made the right decision. She wouldn't turn Santana, no matter how many times she was asked. End of story. It may not be the most popular decision, but she couldn't go back. She wished Santana could see what she could see. There wasn't a situation where Santana had done the cowardly thing. Foolishly, yes. Short sightedly, definitely. But never cowardly. She was so much more brave than she ever gave herself credit for. She didn't need this curse to find her strength. She already had all the strength she needed and more.
So what she was a little afraid of the dark? It had never stopped her from standing up and doing what needed to be done. And no, she didn't want to be the one who ordered Santana around, but Brittany knew better. At least in this case. She didn't claim to know everything that was right for Santana, but all she wanted to do was to keep her safe, and there was nothing wrong with that?
Brittany sat down on the chair with a sigh. Maybe she was treating her too much like a child. If it wasn't for Santana, she and Quinn probably would have died in that opera house. Or if not the opera house, somewhere else. April had practically told them that she'd do whatever it took to stop them from completing the ritual.
And that was an entirely different puzzle. April seemed to think that carrying out the ritual would kill off half the vampires? It was impossible, of course. She imagined that April thought it would hurt someone with the Ameni bloodline. But no matter how goal oriented Sue got, she would never sacrifice half of the clan just to make herself more powerful, would she?
Brittany smacked her forehead. Of course she would. That's exactly the kind of thing that Sue would do. She stood up from the couch, and made to leave Quinn's quarters when the door swung open, and she almost collided with Quinn who looked to be in a bit of rush herself.
"Where have you been!?" Brittany almost shouted.
Quinn gave her a rather suspicious look, and walked over to her desk.
"I was still at Rachel's. She needed more time to settle down, and I did too. What are you so jumpy about?"
"Everything! Mostly almost dying, almost killing Raze, Santana and I got into a fight, all that stuff April was saying-"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Quinn pulled a decanter of one of her vintage scotches from under her desk. "You and Santana had a fight? That's the first time that's happened."
Brittany sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Not the point, Q."
"What did you two fight about?"
"She-she wants me to turn her. I won't do it."
"Why not?"
Brittany stared hard at Quinn who met her eye with a strange look.
"Why not?! Are you kidding me right now, Quinn? Tell me you're kidding."
"I'm not kidding, Britt. You've got this campaign against being a vampire, not drinking blood, flower child like one of the romantics, and things are going crazy out here. Vampires, us, need I remind you, are getting killed. Slaughtered. And you're worried about whether or not the turn your girlfriend? Let her have it, who cares?"
Brittany is on Quinn in a flash, holding her up by the lapel of her shirt, and pressing her hard against a bookcase. Both of them seem surprised, but Quinn recovers first.
"What are you going to do? Punch me until I see your side? Like you did with Raze?"
It was a low blow, and they both knew it. Brittany generally hates violence. Always had. But something about the helplessness of the situation… All of the questions rolling around in her head… They made her feel a little crazy.
Brittany let Quinn go, and took a step back.
"I don't want to her to become like me."
Quinn tsked softly, and wrapped her arms around Brittany. "What's so wrong with you, Brittany?"
Brittany softened into the embrace, and tried not to think about how angry she'd been at her oldest friend only a few moments prior.
"Do you remember? The night I turned, Quinn?"
Brittany couldn't catch Quinn's expression, but felt her arms slip away as she moved back to her desk, and reached for her glass again.
"I've told you a million times, Britt. I wasn't there. Sue made me stay behind. All I know is what you told me about it."
"I can still hear their screams, Quinn. As clear as day. I can't remember everything. I've tried as much as I can. But, I can remember the screams, and the blood. How could I do that to my whole family? How could I destroy everyone I've ever loved? My parents, my sisters… I'm a monster, and Santana deserves better than to become like me. If it were up to me she wouldn't ever know about this life."
Quinn walked back over to Brittany, placing a gentle hand on her arm. "Okay, Brittany. Okay."
They sat for a moment like that. Quinn rubbing Brittany's arm slowly as she sipped her scotch. Brittany felt her head stuck in the haze of the past, and she shook it a few times to try and get rid of the cobwebs.
"What about the relic?"
"What about it? About how it's going to make us more powerful than we ever imagined?" Quinn said.
Brittany shook her head. "As if that matters."
"Brittany, you were there. At April's. All I could do was stand there and watch while you, Sugar, Puck and Mike did all the heavy lifting. I was useless."
"Of course you weren't-"
"Don't say it, Britt, okay? You know that besides my trump card, which I can only break out on those rare, rare occasions, I might as well be a human for all the good I do. My blood is too diluted. I have more bugs than actual useful abilities. This could be the thing that makes me pure! I'll be able to do whatever I want once the ceremony is complete. I could even tell Sue about Rachel…"
"You don't need to be more powerful for that, Quinn."
"Says you."
"Anyway, what I really meant was what April said, about the relic killing off half of us. Do you think she means the Ameni line vs. Sue's Meti?"
Quinn scoffed. "Britt, if you believe anything that came out of April's mouth, you might be a little touched in the head. She was drunk half the time anyway, and half drunk the other half."
"It's not out of the question, Q. A power like that has to require a great sacrifice. It would be exactly the kind of thing Sue would do, so she could finally have the power she thinks she 'deserves'."
"And what? Kill you? Mike? Puck? All of you have Ameni blood. She'd be more likely to kill Sugar before she'd lose any of you."
"But she'd be willing to sacrifice all of us if it made her more powerful."
"No." Quinn's voice was firm. "Look, you've been around as long as I have, Brittany. You know that Sue is determined, she's ruthless, she's tough. But she's not evil. April wants the relic so she can use it's power, but she's too late. Sue beat her to the punch. Sounds like sour grapes to me."
"What if she's not? We know April, Quinn. She know that she's way more level headed than Sue. This world is big enough for more than one clan. If Sue takes this power, then April will go somewhere else. She'll migrate like we all have had to at one time or another. She'll go to the West Coast, or Canada, or anywhere, and she won't waste time trying to wrestle the power back from Sue. You said it yourself before, if April is doing this, she must feel like she has no other choice."
Quinn shook her head. "So, you're saying that Sue is going to kill you, just so she can make use of this power?"
"I'm saying that it's possible, and we have to find out before we support it any further."
"And how do you plan on doing that?"
Brittany turned towards the door with purpose. "Simple. We go ask her. You come with me, and you can tell me if she's lying."
Quinn reached for Brittany's arm, catching her before she went too far. "Hold up there. There are two things wrong with your plan. The first is that, you know how things are with me and Sue. I might be able to tell if she's lying, and that's a strong might. She's gotten better at letting me see only what she wants me to see. And the second thing is that as soon as the question is out of your mouth, Sue will more likely kill us than answer it. Or get Becky to kill us. Either way, it doesn't end well."
Brittany rolled her eyes. "So, what do you suggest that we do?"
"We wait. We watch. I'll give you the book that has the information about the relic inside, and you can try to find more information about it. Also, you focus on finding the blood. If we find it first, we'll know that Sue can't do the ritual until we know for sure that everyone is safe."
"And if we don't find it first?"
"Then we start cracking skulls until somebody gives it to us."
"I like the way you think. But, how am I supposed to find anything in that stupid book? You know me, Quinn, I can barely solve the crossword puzzle. This is going to be some next level stuff."
"Well, luckily, you happen to know a certain plucky paranormal investigator, and this is right up her alley."
Brittany sighed. "I don't think she'll be particularly happy to hear from me."
"No? Well, I have always found you to be very persuasive."
"What do I say, Quinn? I'm sorry that I denied you the one thing you want, but I kind of killed my family one time, and now I have issues about turning people?"
"Well, it's a start." Quinn set down her tumbler. "Hanging out with Rachel has given me some perspective on the way that these humans work. I've never cared about a human the way I care about her, and though I have a feeling we're a little less hot and heavy than you and Santana, I like to think that I can say with a fair amount of certainty that she wants to forgive you. Or at least, she wants to make up with you. She just needs the right inspiration. Santana loves mysteries better than roses, I'd wager. Show up with one in your hands, kiss her silly, and all will be forgiven. That's not to say that she'll stop asking you to turn her, but it's a start. The rest will come in time."
"You think so?"
Quinn nodded. "And tell her, you know, everything. About your family. If that's what you want to do. I have a feeling it will make her understand your side a little bit more."
"Maybe. It's a bit much. I only told her they died in a fire. I didn't say that their bodies were burned after I'd already drained the blood out of them. What if she finally sees what I see? What if she thinks I'm a monster?"
"You can always say as much or as little as you want. You don't have to tell her everything, but hearing things from your point of view might make her understand a bit better."
"Yeah." Brittany said, resigned. "I'll have to consider it. If nothing else works…"
"I'm sure you'll be back to being disgustingly cute before too long."
They both laughed at that.
"Can you imagine, a vampire who would give anything to be human again, and a human that just wants to be a vampire? Falling in love with one another."
Brittany blushed. "I never said anything about love."
"Sure, Pierce. I guess that slip of the tongue earlier tonight was just some sort of illusion."
Brittany rolled her eyes.
"If it's any consolation, Rachel seems to think that Santana loves you, too."
Brittany's heart jumped at that, and she smiled brightly. "Really? She said that?"
"Yeah. She told me, 'I don't believe I've ever seen Santana in a more jovial mood, and I think it's got everything to do with your friend, Brittany.' Then talked a little more about the time when Santana had thought it would be funny to throw a thirty-two ounce slushie in her face when she was wearing a white cashmere sweater."
"I swear, that Rachel takes seventy five words to say something that ten words would say."
"Watch it, Pierce." Quinn's tone was playful, but with an edge.
"Sorry, sorry. I know the soft spot you've got for her."
"Well, we're bonded so…"
"No need to explain it to me, I'll lay off."
They stood quietly for another moment before Quinn spoke again.
"Y-you should ask her, Brittany. About her mom, and her family and everything. About why she's afraid of the dark. Why she moved in with Mercedes. I saw some things, in Rachel's mind. We didn't talk about them, because they're Santana's to tell or not tell, but… But I think she might have a reason for why she feels the way she does. And I think you should hear it from her."
Brittany nodded once, and turned to Quinn, hugging her quickly.
"Thanks, Q. I love you. Like, a lot."
Quinn returned the hug, something that Brittany knew was a rare occurrence. "Me too. Like, a lot. Now let's go get that book and get you reaquainted with a certain adventurous Latina."
Brittany grabbed Quinn's hand as she lead them out the room, and down the hall.
\
The next day, Santana had spent some time over at Artie's, trying to finish up the planning with Jane that they had aborted the night before. Rachel hadn't shown, but a text from her (actually five consecutive texts) showed that she was "otherwise indisposed and had the utmost confidence in the team to plan a week's worth of shows accordingly'. Santana had just said to tell Quinn hi for her, and that shut Rachel up pretty quickly. After that they had discussed what they were going to do about the blood. If it was really going to kill half the vampires, then it was probably best that April had it. Though, there was no guarantee that she did, and honestly by that point they agreed it was probably best if they stayed away from April's compound. She had given them one get out of jail free card. They probably wouldn't get another. But they disagreed on the next steps to take.
The warning from Brittany still rung in her head. Maybe she had been right. Maybe Santana was biting off more than she could chew. But, meeting Brittany and finding out who and what she was flipped so many switches on in Santana's head. There was something on the fringe of her subconscious and she just needed to remember. Once she did, then all the pieces would fall into place. And Brittany was the only person who could do it.
She opened the door and throwing her keys on the counter, slammed it shut.
"I'm home."
Santana knew she sounded tired, because she was tired, but she hoped that the exhaustion in her voice would mask the feelings still racing through her after the drama at April's and the sadness about her fight with Brittany the day before. She grabbed a stack of mail sifting through it to give her hands something to do and walked into the living room.
Mercedes and Sam were sitting on the floor in front of the couch surrounded by what had to be hundreds of fabric swatches and color palettes. They were sitting so closely that Mercedes was practically in his lap and they were giggling maniacally.
Santana gingerly stepped over several stacks and plopped down on the couch. She turned towards the television without a word and suddenly became very interested in one of those home renovation shows that was always on HGTV.
"What's all this?" She asked, gesturing towards one of the piles without bothering to look.
The laughter stopped immediately, and Mercedes shifted towards Santana, gathering up some of the piles.
"We're deciding on a color scheme for the wedding. Something bright, you know, cause it's going to be in the spring, and everything…"
Sam stood up, grabbing handfuls of the papers, and kissed Mercedes on the cheek. "I'm going to get these out of the way, hon."
"Thanks babe." Mercedes walked over to where Santana was sitting, and grabbed a few samples from near her feet. "How was the planning meeting? Did you get into it with Rachel again?"
Santana laughed shortly. "That's every week, Cedes. But Rachel wasn't there today. She was out with Quinn."
"Ah." Mercedes gave a soft smile. "Then what's wrong?"
"Why does something have to be wrong? I just want to enjoy some HGTV and have some peace. Nothing wrong with that."
"Santana-" Mercedes sat on the ottoman beside the chair. "You hate HGTV. You once told me that you would rather, and I quote, 'get a hot sauce enema than watch another show where they do a renovation or some ugly dude complains about the color of a bathroom in a house he wants to buy.'"
Santana shifted uncomfortably. "Well, it's oddly soothing, what can I say?"
"So, nothing's wrong?"
"Nope."
"No issues with the show, or Artie or Rachel or Jane?"
"Nope, all peachy keen."
"What if I told you that Brittany came by earlier?"
Santana was on the edge of her seat in a second, gripping Mercedes' arms. "She did?! When? Why didn't you tell when when I came in? I have to call her. No, I can't call her. She can call me. Did she say that she wants me to call her?"
Mercedes looked guiltily away. "I said, 'what if I told you', I didn't say that she did."
With that Santana deflated and sat back in the chair, giving Mercedes a stern look. "I hate you."
"So, you had a fight with Brittany."
"Mercedes-"
"I know, I know, you don't want to talk about it. But guess what, we're talking about it, otherwise you're going to spend all week moping around the house like a lovesick idiot. Then you're going to start picking on Sam, and have him walking on eggshells, and I'm going to have to spend more time buttering him up, and though I love my man, I don't want to have to be picking up the pieces. I don't want you bullying him, Santana."
"So you'd rather him be comfortable than me not have to do something I don't want to?"
"Oh please, Santana. I'm not asking you to jump in a volcano. I'm asking you to talk about your feelings. These very real feelings that you have for a certain tall, cute blonde. And if you're miserable that means she's miserable, and you two are too cute together for you to be miserable. I love Sam, you know that, and I love you too. The two feelings are completely separate from each other. I'm going to marry Sam, and you're my sister."
Santana sighed. "I'm sorry, 'Cedes. That was a dick thing of me to say, and I shouldn't have."
"Yeah, you shouldn't have, but now that we are talking about feelings. I want to know yours. Do you love her, San?"
Santana's eyes widen, and then narrowed. She looked at Mercedes for a long moment before turning away and back to the TV.
"I dunno."
Mercedes put a hand on her knee. "You do. I think you do know, S. And I think that you do love her."
"We've only known each other for a little while and-"
"Oh please. I've seen you date a girl for six months and still not have the look on your face that you have when Brittany looks at you. You little smitten kitten. When you love someone, you just know. You don't need to think about it."
She gave a wistful look in the direction that Sam had gone off in.
"Is that how it is with you and Sam?" Santana asked.
"Well, yeah, duh. That's why I'm marrying him." Mercedes patted Santana's knee. "The way that I feel about him now is the way I did back in high school, and that's something you know and you feel when you look at them. The way they smile, the way they laugh, the little creases that form around their eyes when they're sad. It's a little hiccup in your heart that shudders when they look at you. It feels like nothing else."
Santana paused for a moment, pulling at a loose thread on the couch. She didn't say anything for a long while, and when she spoke again, her voice was thick and heavy.
"I-I think I love her, Mercedes."
"No shit, Sherlock."
Santana laughed and swatted at Mercedes' arm.
"You don't have to be a know-it-all."
"Anybody could look at the two of you, and see it. She feels the same way about you, San."
"You think?"
"I know it. It's what I've been telling you for years. You're worthy of love. You're worthy of someone loving you the way that you deserved to be loved. And I'm glad she's the one to do it. The whole vampire thing notwithstanding."
Santana couldn't help the awe that washed over her. She was so lucky to have the people she had in her life. Her sister who would kick her ass if need be, her annoying cohost who would literally jump in front of danger for her, her girlfriend, her actual perfect girlfriend who looked at her in a way that made her heart feel as if it was going to burst.
She thought back to their fight earlier. It had seemed like a good idea to push the point then. She was feeling vulnerable, and tensions were high, but there was something she was missing. There must be a reason that Brittany was so adamant that she wouldn't turn her. She had to think more about Brittany's side. She knew that Brittany loved her, and she knew that if she was telling her no for anything there must be a good reason. She wasn't sure if she wouldn't ever agree with her, but she had to try, for both their sakes.
"I may have really screwed things up, 'Cedes."
"Well, that's what I'm here for. I told mom I'd take care of you, and as your older sister, it's kind of my job. Let's figure out how you're going to make this right."
"How?"
"Well, first, you're going to call Brittany, and ask her to come over. You're going to apologize to her for whatever boneheaded thing you said that made her upset with you-"
"It wasn't boneheaded. I just-"
"Then you're going to make up, and get back to stopping Sue, or whatever the thing is that you're so focused on this week."
"Any other instructions, Captain?" Santana gave Mercedes a mock salute.
"If I think of anything, I'll let you know." Mercedes responded, smiling.
"I hate you."
"You love me, and you know it."
Santana rolled her eyes, but couldn't help smiling a little. "Yeah, whatever."
Mercedes stood up, and finished gathering the samples off the floor, and depositing them on the table.
"I'm going to go get Sam, and tell him the living room is safe again. And you've got a phone call to make."
"Yeah, fine."
Mercedes slipped away, and Santana pulled her phone out of her pocket.
No missed calls or texts, not from Brittany anyway, and that smarted a bit. She didn't like to think of herself as infallible, and she'd even admitted to herself that maybe she'd gotten in a little over her head with the whole April business, but the least Brittany could have done was extended an olive branch. Mercedes' bedroom door opened, and she and Sam came back into the living room. Santana took that as her cue, and went to her bedroom, closing the door firmly behind her.
She sighed as she flopped down on the bed. She had to admit, Mercedes had a good point. Well, half a good point, anyway. It was clear that Brittany was dead set against turning her, and Santana pushing the issue only made things more tense between them, and she certainly didn't want that. Brittany must have had a reason for acting the way that she did, but so did Santana. She thought back to that night so many years ago, a night that was still clouded in the mystery of her mind and shuddered. She knew that they answers were in there somewhere, if only there was a way to unlock them.
Santana pulled the phone up to her face, staring at the home screen. Still not calls or texts. Her fingers scrolled down her call list. Of course there were the requisite hundred plus calls from Rachel, some from Jane, and a few from Artie, but sprinkled in was Brittany's name. Some of the time she would call when she knew Santana had just woken up, or when she'd be getting ready for bed. She would call when she knew that Santana had just finished a meeting for the show, or when she'd mention having a particularly rough day in one of their texts. But most of the time she would call for no reason. Once she spotted a cat will she was cruising on her bike, and had pulled over just to excitedly tell Santana all about it. That was the thing about Brittany, she always knew the way to make her smile. And Santana couldn't stay angry with her. But what was the best way to go about this reconciliation? She closed her eyes, pressing a hand against them.
Almost directly behind her, Santana heard a soft tap on the window. She turned quickly, startled, and the movement threw her off balance, which tipped her off the bed. She hit the ground with a thump. The window slid open, and Brittany was beside her in a flash, cradling her head, and cooing softly at her.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you." She said, sheepishly.
"I wasn't scared, just, um, surprised. What are you doing here?"
Brittany blushed, and looked a little ashamed.
"Sorry, if you want me to go…"
Santana sat up quickly, ignoring the pain coming from her hip, and turning to sit cross legged in front of Brittany, taking her hands and pulling them into her lap.
"No, no, I don't want that. I'm glad to see you."
Brittany brightened. "Really?"
"Yeah, of course." Santana looked down, picking at the carpet. "I was about to call you, actually."
This earned Santana a sly grin. "Were you now?"
"Don't get all cocky." Santana replied, with a grin of her own. "I'm not the one hanging out on fire escapes in the middle of the city."
"Well, I missed you."
"Really?"
"Yeah." Brittany said, playing with Santana's fingers.
"So, you've reconsidered? You will turn me?"
Brittany looked up sharply. "I came to tell you why I couldn't. Why I never can. I-it's something in my past. H-how I turned."
Santana scooted closer to Brittany, grasping her hands more tightly.
Brittany cleared her throat and continued. "I wasn't sure if I should tell you. I-it's not good, Santana. It's not-"
"It doesn't matter, Britt. No matter what, I know how I feel about you, okay? You don't have to be afraid to tell me anything."
"You don't know, Santana. You don't understand. I try as hard as I can. I try every day. Even before I met you, and even more now. But, we are… we are monsters. You saw it when I- when I fought with Raze. You saw it when I grabbed Will back at his apartment. The fear in your eyes. You can see what I am."
"You're not a monster, Britt! I know you, I love you. You're the person who always has bread in her backpack to feed the ducks. You're the person who stops her bike and gets off to help little old ladies cross the street. You're the person who will watch black and white romantic movies with me, and hold me and not tell anybody that I've been crying because Bogart doesn't get on that plane. Those aren't things a monster would do."
Brittany's ears were burning as she took in Santana's words. Feeling and hearing from Quinn that Santana loved her was much different than hearing it from Santana herself. She wanted to feel elated, but she couldn't, knowing that in a few minutes, Santana might not be able to forgive her for what she had done in her past. She hadn't even been able to forgive herself.
Brittany simply sighed and shook her head. "I can do all those things, Santana, and be who I am, and still not be right. And I'm not. I-I love you, too. But, this is, this is... "
She didn't finish as Santana leaped across the distance between them, and smothered her with kisses. Santana, too, was happy to hear the words come from Brittany's mouth. Maybe they didn't agree on a very fundamental issue, but none of that mattered. They loved each other. That was worth a lot. She wasn't sure what Brittany wanted to tell her, but Santana wanted this moment to last forever.
Feeling Brittany's lips pressed firmly on her own made the tingling in her stomach start again. She straddled Brittany's stomach, and pressed hard into her mouth, greedily nipping her lips, and sucking gently. A tongue swiped across her bottom lip, and she opened up immediately, using her position to take control of the kiss. She playfully dipped her tongue into Brittany's mouth, twirling it with Brittany's tongue, and at the same time, pressing her hips down with force.
Brittany moaned, and Santana took that as a sign, her hands roaming under Brittany's shirt, and reaching for her bra-
"Wait, wait, San." Brittany gasped, pulling away.
Santana sat back, confused. "What, why? Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?"
"No, no, of course not. Never." Brittany calmed her, and sat up a bit, pulling her shirt down so it covered her stomach. "I just, I have to tell you this, San. Before we go any further."
Santana could tell that this was important, so she stood up, and sat on the bed, pulling Brittany up to join her.
"Go ahead. I'm listening."
She left Brittany's hands wrapped in her own, and looked deep into her eyes. She hoped that it helped her feel more at ease. Santana had never seen her more nervous. Her eyes darted around the room, and she could feel a faint tremble in her hands. She tried again to comfort her.
"Whatever it is, Britt. Whatever. It doesn't change the person you are now. It won't change how I feel about you."
Brittany gave a dark laugh. "You probably shouldn't make promises like that until you hear what it is."
"I meant what I said earlier, Brittany." Santana pulled Brittany's hands towards her a bit more, to focus her attention. "I do love you, okay?"
Brittany nodded softly, and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly.
"I-I killed my family."
\
The first thing she remembers from that night is the blood. It's a tangy, coppery smell that fills every single space in her brain. It's fresh. Very, very fresh, and Brittany doesn't think that she's ever smelled it so fully before.
That's not to say that she'd never smelled blood. Her uncle was a butcher, and supplied meat to most of the town. Her father would have gone into the family business, but he was a gentle man who couldn't bear the sounds and sights of the butchery, and left it to his brother. So, her father pursued cobbling, another family tradition, and he was quite good at it. He'd even made a set for the royal family that had put their family in high esteem. Every one from near and far wanted a pair of Sem Pierce's famous shoes. They kept the Pierce's in fine fabrics and in comfortable surroundings, so as a child, Brittany never wanted for anything.
She was the oldest of the Pierce girls, and at 19 much older than her younger sisters who were only four and five when… Well, when she'd lost them. She was much older, long past the point where other girls were married off to husband's who didn't care about them. Her mother would sometimes tell her that she'd never find someone to take care of her if she spent all her time playing with her younger sisters, and going through hikes in the woods. But her father would shake off the criticisms with a smile.
"That's our Brittany, she's always going to be free."
So, she went through the days, helping her mother with her sisters, and helping her father around the shop. He would give her pocket money, and she would take it into town and buy treats for the girls, sometimes pocketing some and saving them for herself. She was walking along the road that day. That's one of the things she remembers clearly. Their house was set a bit off in the woods, but it was a comfortable walk, worn down from heavy foot traffic of the customers to her father's shop. There was a crisp stillness in the air that only came from cool, fall days, and Brittany relished it, her hands in the pockets of her beautiful red cloak, kicking leaves as they crossed her path. The woods were usually alive with the sound of animals chittering and frolicking, but today they were almost silent. Brittany felt a chill run down her spine, but she ignored it as best she could and quickly walked on.
She could see the eaves of her house in the distance. It was a magnificent thing, covered in ivy, with colorful shutters and delicate awnings. She smiled as she approached, the house, and then frowned when she noticed her little sister sitting outside, crouching over a small mound of dirt.
"Pim, what are you doing out here? It's cold." Brittany gathered her sister up in her arms, Pim was small for a four year old and Brittany liked to coddle her, holding her to her hip like she'd always done.
Brittany nudged her sister's nose with her own, smiling widely again, trying to chase away the frown that was on the little girl's face.
"What's wrong, bolleke? What has Sanne done this time?"
The two sisters would often argue, and it was up to Brittany to be the mediator, going back and forth between them, and making them laugh until they felt in better moods. She hoped that was the case now, she hated to see them fight.
"It's not that, zusje. There's a lady inside, and I don't like her. I don't want to go back in."
Pim's face screwed up in a grimace, and she made as if she was about to cry. Brittany shushed her quickly. It wasn't like Pim to be afraid of guests. They came around often to commission their father for work, and there were new ones every day.
"Hush, Pim. It's just another customer for Papa. If you don't like her, I'm sure she'll leave soon. Let's go inside and I'll give you licorice. I bought it today, and if you're good, you can sit by the stove and eat it."
This seemed to satisfy Pim, and so Brittany carried her inside, careful not to slam the door open or closed as she sometimes found hard not to. She passed by her father's workshop, and could hear her father's gentle voice, and her mother's pleading one, in addition to a new harsh voice that she'd never heard before. That must have been the woman Pim was talking about, and from the sound of things, she wasn't sure if she liked her either. Brittany walked straight to the kitchen, sitting Pim by the stove as promised, and pulling out a few small pieces of licorice and handing them over.
"Now, remember. Stay by the fire until I come and get you. I promise I'll wait until the lady leaves."
Pim nodded, sucking the first piece of candy into her mouth, and pulling her small doll out of her dress pocket. She hummed to herself and Brittany smiled. She loved her sisters as much as it was possible to love other people. She stood there, watching a few more minutes, and then walked towards her father's workshop. The voices still seemed to be arguing, and she hung back for a few moments to listen in. She was often around for her father's conversations, he talked about having her take over the business one day, and she should know as much about running a business as she knew about shoemaking. She leaned against the doorway and listened carefully as the conversation continued.
"You're a guest in my house."
It was her father's voice, and there was a strain in it that Brittany had never heard before. He was usually a jovial man, laughing readily at some joke, and speaking with pride about his family and his business. But this voice, this sounded like a man trapped in a corner. Brittany didn't like it.
"Newsflash, bub. Nobody keeps what I want from me. Period. End of Sentence. I can make this real hard on you."
The woman's voice again. Her Dutch was spoken with a heavy accent, and Brittany couldn't right place it. She'd met plenty of traders who mangled their language, but it was nothing like she'd ever heard before.
"We don't respond to threats. I would like you to leave." Her mother's voice now.
Brittany swallowed hard. This was the voice that she seldom heard. The one that brokered no argument, and that could get even her stubborn sisters to fall in line without another word.
The other voice sighed, and Brittany heard the movement of chairs as they scraped against the wooden floors, and everyone stood up. She moved towards the door, about to open it, when the handle was neatly snatched out of her hand, and she stood face to face with the owner of the hard voice with the strange Dutch.
She was tall and blonde, her face full of sharp angles and corners, thin lips and her eyes narrowed sharply when she looked at Brittany. The woman reminded her of her cousin Greta from up north, but while Greta was smiles and softness this woman was like the human equivalent of an ice cold bath. Brittany shivered unconsciously.
"Brittany."
The woman almost whispered her name, and the shiver returned, even stronger this time. Brittany opened her mouth to respond but nothing came out. Her mouth felt dry, and her hands clammy. There was something off about the woman, but Brittany couldn't put her finger on it, if anything she felt muddled and cloudy. She shook her head once to clear it.
"I-"
"I asked you to leave."
Her mother's voice came from the room, and a moment later her mother's face appeared. She was staring hard at the woman, and the tall woman didn't waste another moment, heading out the door without a glance back at the Pierces.
Brittany watched her go with something akin to astonishment when she felt a pair of hands on her shoulders.
"Who was that?" She asked without looking back.
"No one you need concern yourself with. Go get the girls ready for dinner."
"But Papa-"
"Now, Brittany."
There was a hard edge to her father's voice that forced Brittany back for a second. He had never used that tone of voice with her. She turned quickly, and headed into the kitchen, grabbing Pim, and taking her upstairs to look for Sanne. The rest of the evening was quiet, but Brittany noticed that her parents said almost nothing during dinner, and even the girls were subdued from their normal carefree selves.
Afterwards, while Brittany's mother was in the kitchen cleaning up, Brittany took the girls upstairs, changed them into their pajamas, and laid them down in the bed they shared. She smoothed the covers over them carefully, and brushed back long blonde hairs that had freed themselves from their braids. She sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, humming gently, and watching over the two sleepy girls.
Sanne was asleep quietly dozing and Brittany could tell that Pim wasn't far behind when she stood up to go back downstairs and help her mother in the kitchen. As she moved from the bed, she felt a small hand wrap around her wrist.
"Zusje, I don't want to see that lady again."
Pim's voice was small and frightened, and though Brittany wanted nothing more than to hold her tightly in her arms, she didn't want to scare her by reacting too much. So, she simply turned, and patted her sister's hand.
"Nothing to worry about bollekeja. Mama and Papa aren't going to ever let her come back."
"Are you sure?"
"Of course I'm sure." She leaned down and kissed Pim on the forehead. "Now go to sleep, goose. You will be tired in the morning otherwise."
This seemed to settle her, so Pim snuggled down in the covers, turning towards Sanne, and draping a gentle arm over her. Brittany smiled and went back down stairs.
Her mother was still in the kitchen. Most of the cleaning had been done, in fact, Brittany had helped with a lot of it before she took the girls upstairs, but her mother still puttered about here and there. It was something that she tended to do when she was nervous. In fact, she stood close to the fire, polishing a spoon that looked as though it had been polished more than enough and staring into the flames.
She didn't react when Brittany approached, and only seemed to noticed when Brittany was right at her elbow, and touched her to get her attention.
"Brittany!" She shrieked, dropping the spoon with a clatter. "You startled me."
Her mother's eyes were red and puffy.
"Sorry, mama." Brittany said, reaching down and picking up the spoon, then handing it back to her mother. "The girls are asleep."
Mrs. Pierce nodded sharply, and looked down at the spoon in her hands. Seemingly satisfied, she laid it in the cabinet, closing the drawer firmly. Brittany watched her mother closely. In addition to looking like she'd just been crying her eyes out, her face had a pinched look and her shoulders were high with tension. She opened and closed her fist slowly, squeezing until the veins popped out of her wrists.
Brittany tried again. "Mother, is everything okay?"
She put on her most formal tone, trying not to offend her mother by saying the wrong thing. At Brittany's question Mrs. Pierce leaned hard against the table, sighing deeply. She pinched the bridge of her nose, and sighed again.
"I-I'm not sure, Brittany. I'm not sure, but I promise you-" Mrs. Pierce walked over to Brittany, kneeling down at her feet. "I promise you that even if it isn't now, it's going to be."
She took her daughter's hands in her own, holding them so tight that it hurt. Brittany's eyes grew wide, and she looked at her mother with alarm.
"What-?"
"Brittany!"
It was her father's voice, calling her from his workshop.
"Brittany, come here."
She looked at her mother for a moment longer, and then stood, walking towards the door. She turned back quickly.
"Mother-"
"Go, Brittany. Go."
Her mother turned back to the cabinet, and pulled out another spoon that was already more than clean. She began wiping it furiously.
"Brittany!"
Her father's voice called again.
Brittany went out the door and into her father's mouth dropped open. She had never seen it in such a disarray. Materials were everywhere, and tools were lying about. She didn't bother trying to ask about it. Brittany stood there for a moment until her father noticed her.
"Ah, schatje. Come, come here."
Brittany entered the room while her father cleared off his work bench, and sat down there, patting the seat beside him.
"Papa, what is it?"
Brittany sat down beside him, clutching her dress in her fists. She didn't know what was going on, and she didn't know what was coming, but she didn't like it. She'd never been more afraid in her life.
"Brittany, I have a favor to ask you."
"Of course, Papa. Anything."
Her father grimaced at her words, his eyes becoming shiny with tears.
"That's my good girl, Brittany." He put his arm around her shoulder. "I have packed up some things for you, and I need to you do a delivery for me."
"A delivery?"
"Yes, it is very far away. I've packed some money, and your mother packed some food, and you must leave right away."
Her father stood up and walked across the room, pulling out a small satchel.
Brittany stood up too, quickly, and without much balance. Her parents were sending her away?
"Right now, papa? Why is this so urgent? Why must I go now? Have I done something wrong, Papa? I promise I will never do it again-"
She was cut off by a swift, strong hug from her father. Brittany was tall, but he was taller, and he tucked her into his body, resting his chin on the crown of her head.
"Never, never, never schatje. My treasure. Never. I have never been more proud and happy to call you my daughter, Brittany. But right here, right now is not safe for you."
"Not safe, why?"
"I'm sorry, Brittany, but the less you know the better. All you can know is that you must go where I send you, and after a little while you will return back to us, safe and sound. I will want to hear all about your trip, and your sisters will as well."
"But Papa-"
Her father disengaged himself and looked into her eyes.
"Brittany, this is the hardest thing I have ever had to do. But we cannot let her take you. You will be safer far away. And it must happen now. If we wait it might be too late. We love you, Brittany. Your mother and I, and your sisters. We love you so much. We must protect you."
Tears were flowing freely from her father's eyes, and Brittany could feel her own on her cheeks as well.
"Trust me, Brittany. Trust me to protect you."
Brittany nodded, and took the bag from her father. When she turned back, her mother was standing in the doorway, gripping a towel that she'd knotted and twisted in her hands. Her mother was crying as well, and rushed over, gathering Brittany in her arms.
"Oh Brittany, schatje. It won't be long until you see us again. I promise. I love you so much."
Brittany returned her mother's fierce hug and sniffed a few times. "Can I say goodbye to the girls before I go? I won't wake them, I just want to see them."
Her parents, who were now holding each other for dear life, nodded.
"But hurry, Brittany, the carriage will be here any moment."
Brittany took the stairs two at a time, and quietly moved into her room, one that she shared with her sisters. She grabbed the necklace her parents had given her on her last birthday, her journal and a braid of flowers that Pim had given her only a few days before. She then moved to her sisters' bed, gazing down on them lovingly. She pulled the blanket more fully around their shoulders, and kissed them each on their foreheads.
"I will see you again, I promise."
Brittany heard the front door open and close downstairs, and giving one last look to her sleeping sisters, left the room, racing down the stairs.
"Brittany, come, the carriage is here. I have already paid the driver more than enough to take you out of town. He knows where to go, and you will be safe there. I have given you some money, and your mother has sewn it into your cloak. You're a smart girl, Brittany, but sometimes too good. Don't trust anyone out there on the road. When you get to your destination, you will see your cousin Hendrik. He will take you on. Give him my regards, and thank him for what he is doing."
"How will he know i'm coming?"
"I sent a messenger today, the fastest in the village. He is the only one who will know you are coming, so trust no one but him. Do you understand me, Brittany?"
"Yes, Papa, I understand." Brittany was breathless, and had only been standing there listening to her father's instructions. Her heart was beating out of her chest. She wasn't sure what was going to happen, but she trusted her parents, and she knew they'd want the best for her.
Her mother came over and hugged her as well.
"Remember what your father said, Brittany. We love you, we'll wait for you to return."
Brittany couldn't look at her mother's face, opting to focus on the small mirror that stood right inside the door of her father's workshop. She had spent hours standing in front of that mirror as a child, trying on her mother's clothes and dresses (and sometimes her father's coat and hats), while her parents laughed at her antics. If only she could go back to that simpler time. Before secret journeys into the night. Before looking into the crying eyes of her parents. Brittany worried the trim of her cloak as her mother wrapped it around her shoulders. Her father put his hand on the small of her back and opened the front door. Brittany could see the driver, already in position on top, smoking a pipe, the smoke from it showing up clearly in the cold, night air. The animal sounds had returned, and Brittany could hear the owls hooting from the trees, and the crickets chirping in the grass. Normally she loved the sounds of the night time, but tonight they filled her with a dread she couldn't describe. She shivered.
Her father led her to the carriage, and opened the door, helping her up. He tucked her skirts around her thighs to trap in the warmth, and placed a hand on her knee.
"It won't be long, schatje. You'll be back to us very soon."
"Okay, papa. I love you."
"I love you too, Brittany."
The carriage door closed, and Brittany could hear her father speaking in low tones with the carriage driver. She pushed away the small screen that covered the only window and peeked out. Her father walked back to her mother, wrapping his arms around her, and holding her close. They spotted her simultaneously and waved frantically. Brittany could see the sadness on their faces, but she smiled as brightly as she could and waved back. If it weren't for the dread that had settled in her stomach she could have imagined that she was taking a trip. She'd gone on trips with her father before, far and wide all throughout the countryside, though she'd never been alone. If this were another place or another time, even during the day, Brittany would have been overjoyed that her parents were giving her this responsibility of travelling alone. Now all she could think of was the sadness that was in her parent's eyes, and the way her sisters would cry when they realized it might be a long time before they saw her again. She sighed, and settled back into the seat.
She must had dozed off because the next thing she remembered was a yell. It wasn't a full drawn out thing, but more like a yelp. Brittany sat up with a start. She sat very still for a moment, and realized that the thing that was missing was the rhythmic clopping of the horses' hooves against the smooth cobblestone of the town streets, and the gentle swaying of the carriage as they rolled.
They had stopped.
Brittany moved as evenly as she could to the window, and pulled away the cover. Her suspicions were confirmed when she saw the dark woods staring stoically back at her. She wasn't sure what had happened, but she waited a moment, not moving, not breathing for a long moment, waiting for another sound to tell her what was happening outside the carriage.
Hearing nothing, she slowly pushed open the door. She looked around quickly, and saw no one. Brittany froze for a moment from a sound in front of the carriage until she realized that it was one of the horses, shaking itself.
She took a careful step down out of the door, and a moment later was on the ground. She looked around. The only light coming from the full moon that was shining brightly down on her. There was also a small lantern hanging to the front of the carriage, that reflected onto the driver and horses.
Brittany looked around again. The hairs on the back of her neck and her arms stood on end. Brittany turned an ear towards the woods, and that same deafening silence that she'd heard earlier in the day echoed back at her.
She heard shuffling in the woods, it was light and could have been a rabbit or a deer, but she didn't want to wait to find out. She tiptoed quickly to the front of the carriage, tugging on the legs of the driver from where he sat on top. She kept her eyes scanning the woods, afraid that something might burst out of them.
She whispered up to him. "Why've we stopped? We have to keep moving. I can hear something-"
Brittany looked up to the driver, yanking her hand away from where it had landed. The driver, or what was left of him, had almost been ripped apart. The blood and gore was everywhere, and Brittany looked down at her hand, and saw that it was covered in it from where she had touched him.
She screamed, stepping back quickly. This startled the horses, and they whinnied, taking off down the road.
Brittany panicked. The horses were her only way to make it through the woods, and if she lost them... She took off after them, hiking her dress up around her knees. She managed to keep up with them for a few paces, but as she reached out her hand for the carriage, her foot caught the edge of a cobblestone, and she fell, falling hard to the ground.
She shook herself, standing up quickly, but the carriage was almost out of sight. Brittany felt her breath hitch in her throat, her last chance quickly disappearing over the horizon. She looked up at the sky, at the bright moon against the star filled heavens. She wanted to scream, she wanted to cry. She settled for a sob muffled by a fist between her lips.
Another sound rose out of the silent woods, and Brittany whipped around to face it.
Suddenly, there were arms around her waist, and a warm mouth on her neck. Before she could even cry out, the world went blood red.
Brittany woke up slowly.
Her mouth felt like it was filled with cotton, and her head felt the same. It took her a few moments to get her bearings, and when she finally did, she wasn't sure if she believed her senses.
She was sitting in her kitchen. Her parents' kitchen. At the very table she had had dinner at only a few short hours before. Brittany sat up, shaking her head. She looked around carefully. Maybe it had all been a dream, maybe it was all over-
She looked down and saw she was still wearing her travelling cloak, and in the dim light of the dying embers she saw the blood covering her clothes, she gasped, and saw it was on her hands as well. She was covered head to toe.
Brittany stood up quickly, knocking the bench over and backing away from the table. She knocked against the table, and the silverware her mother had been furiously polishing feel to the floor, scattered. Suddenly there was a clamour in her ears. Brittany slammed her hands over them, but the loud buzzing wouldn't stop. She fell to her knees, and reached carefully for the silverware, slowly picking up a spoon and laying it on the table. She felt immediate relief as the noise became the smallest bit more quiet in her head. She picked up another one, not minding that she was ruining her mother's hard work with the blood that still covered her hands. She picked up all the cutlery, laying them out on the table, counting them carefully as she placed them down.
Once that was done, and stood again. the buzzing was gone, but Brittany somehow had the feeling that the nightmare wasn't over. She walked out of the kitchen, and looked into her father's workshop. It was empty, and still ransacked from earlier. She walked over to his workbench, dipping her fingers in two small puddles of blood that were laying there. It still had the faint hint of warmth in it.
Brittany brought her fingers to her face. She looked at the blood. It had shocked her at first, but now there was almost a gentle familiarity to it. The fear that had run rampant in her mind cooled to a faint discomfort. She gazed into the deep red, and surprised herself as she pushed her fingers into her mouth, swirling her tongue around them, and swallowing deeply.
As she stood there, savoring the taste, Brittany looked into the mirror that she'd looked into a few hours before, a seemingly short amount of time that seemed like a lifetime ago. Her clothes were covered in blood, but so was her body. Her face, her hands and arms, every exposed part of her skin was covered.
"Dear god." Brittany whispered.
She lifted her bloodied hands to her neck and saw the two neat holes that were placed there. She turned and raced out of the room, following her instinct to her parents rooms, and bursting through the door.
They lay on their beds, torn out of peaceful sleep and into blood red. Brittany hand covered her mouth as she retched, but nothing came out. She felt a deep repulsion, but under that was something even more stark. A hunger. She backed into the hallway, turning towards her own room. She only took a step inside, seeing a pale foot peeking from underneath the red stained covers before turning and rushing down the stairs and into the backyard.
Brittany sunk to her feet, breathing through clenched teeth. The urge to throw up crashed over her again, but she couldn't make anything come up. Even the familiar taste of bile evaded her. She slammed her fists into the ground.
"There, there. No need for a temper tantrum."
That voice. Brittany turned to see the woman from earlier looking down at her. The moonlight shining through her bright, blonde hair.
Brittany's eyes narrowed. "Y-you. What did you do to me? What have I done?"
"Nothing that I wouldn't have done, Britt. You are finally coming into your own, and I couldn't be prouder. It's your destiny."
"My family-"
"Yes, it was shame. I brought you back so that you could tell them goodbye, but you were hungry, so… I don't think they would have minded much. You were dead to them anyway."
"No. No, they loved me."
"They would have loved you until they found out what you've become. Then they would shun you."
Brittany was up in a flash, grabbing the woman around her collar, and lifting her until her feet were barely touching the ground.
"My my, you are strong."
"You! You did this! You made me like this."
The woman wagged her finger. "No, I didn't. But I knew what would happen, and I knew I only needed to wait. And here we are."
Brittany dropped the woman, staggering backwards. "What is this? What's happened to me?"
She looked up, desperately and saw the mirthless smile on the woman's face.
"You're with me now, kid. The name is Sue. We're going to become fast friends."