Little Readers!
Just to quickly touch base on a review/comment made about the restraining order... lol! okay yes I am fully aware of what this is, what I am also fully aware of, is this is fanfiction. I dont feel it neccessary to put all the ins and outs and every single little detail... just let stuff flow! It's suppose to be light and fluffy and have you feeling things like ohhh my heart, instead of ohhh the law states... I just wanted to write this to concentrate on Brittana feelings... okay rant over.
In the mean time, gosh darn you guys and your I love yous! I lovee you too!
Home stretch now, pinkie promise!
Court
CHAPTER 34
You slipped away
NOW
The air hovered around Santana, as she stared into the nursery of the maternity ward; she placed her head against the glass, watching as Kurt bent down over the incubator smiling at the tiny little bundle that lay in the hospital blankets. Rachel stood beside him, her eyes shining with the tears that she had never been able to hold inside anyway.
Santana felt an arm slip around her shoulders, she knew his touch; it had been ingrained in her the same way each of these people would never leave her life. Now, more than ever, it was stronger, stronger because it had a small baby boy to care for and look after.
"He's beautiful," she whispered, as the tears slid down her cheek.
Puck stared at his child through the glass, "William is beautiful," he murmured, "So are you,"
Santana's lips quivered, "I lost her,"
Sue had screeched to a stop outside Zoe house, Santana had piled from the vehicle screaming Brittany's name, she was screaming Brittany's name with all the desperation of someone who needed something as badly as what she needed her. But she was met with just one person, an aged man, green parker, and frown upon his face.
"What's the racket lady?" he had said, "You'll disturb the neighbours,"
"Where's Zoe," she had demanded, "Where the hell is Zoe?"
He had looked at her and shook his head, "She just rented this place, she packed up and headed on out to who only knows where. Left half her damn stuff behind, real pain in the ass for the insurance clean up,"
Measure your life in the moments that catch up on you, measure the moments that you catch up with, but what about measuring the moments that slip away.
Brittany had slipped away again.
Even Sue had been prepared to catch Santana has she fell again.
"Santana," Puck said softly beside her. She couldn't take her eyes off William, he was so small, he was so small and the life shone from him in this fresh new glow that it was impossible not to feel the warmth spread through her body.
"Santana you're Williams' godmother,"
That's all it took; Santana hung her head, and allowed Puck to curl his arms around her, in the same way he had held her outside the hospital all those months ago. He held her, held her there, so Santana wouldn't slip away.
. . .
Hearts can do plenty of things, they can beat, they can flutter, they can bend and they can break. What one do you like the most? Did you say flutter? Did you say bend or break? You forgot one though didn't you, you forgot that hearts heal. So maybe if a heart does not break, then there would be no such thing as a heart healing. And in a world like this, how can there possibly be any learning if there is no healing? Struggle comes with life does it not?
As Santana packed the last of what little she had brought in her suitcase as her mother entered her room carrying the pages of the photocopied notebook.
"Querida, this is most definitely not like you,"
Santana looked to her mother, "It's over Mama, they've gone to god only knows where,"
Sometimes Santana wonders if anything is actually absolute anymore. Is there a right or wrong? What measures or justifies good or bad? Artie loved Brittany didn't he? Zoe thought that being gay was a sin, which was what she believed in, so she didn't know any different right? But what measures the truth from a lie? Tolerance from intolerance? What if everything is just negotiable now? There's no black or white in the world, there's just grey.
"Santana please," her mother begged.
"It's done Mum," she murmured, "My flight leaves tomorrow, I'll be back in New York before tomorrow, it's finished,"
Santana now believed that sometimes life was more chaotic than dreams. Sometimes even in the darkest of dreams you'll learn to find or face what's hidden in your soul. Santana's soul had been stripped from her, it had been pulled from her reach and she was trying to reign the invisible threads back in, but the anchor had exploded, the ship had set sail and now she had been left to retreat into her dreams in which she prayed would be better than this reality.
. . .
Brittany sat with her hands curled in her lap; she was staring so intently at her jeans she wondered if they would fade from the extent of her glare. Artie sat beside her, she knew he was staring at her, but she couldn't look at him, she felt so wrong.
"It'll be fine Britt," Zoe said from the driver's seat, she had a box sitting next to her. Brittany's box.
One box full of the things that were supposed to mean the most to her.
Was that all her life had been worth?
Just one box?
How do you measure the things important to you?
"Artie and I, are the most important Britt, it's been you and me since we were kids," she had said as she had packed a suitcase. "It will be okay, relocating will be good for you, we'll start again,"
Sometimes being young means you think nothing can hurt you. You think you're invincible. You have your entire life set out before you. Then you realise that some things happen that haven't been accounted for in these plans. It scares the hell out of you because suddenly everything is turned upside down and you don't know what or who to believe. So what do you put your faith in? Who do you trust? Do you wait for things to piece together or do you pay attention to the piece that's been missing all along? You want to look back on your life and believe you made the most of it, that you made the right decisions. You want to believe it all mattered. Brittany finally turned to Artie, as the vehicle ploughed south across the border on route towards Florida. Brittany finally looked at him, looked at him with all the sincerity that she could muster.
"How did you propose to me?" she asked.
Artie didn't look up from his lap; his hands were tied together, tied together in the very understanding that it would never be Brittany's hand that would be there instead.
"I didn't," he murmured.
Artie did all but one thing. He leant into his backpack beside him and he retrieved the snow globe that Brittany had kept since college and had been caught amongst her things that Zoe had snatched from her apartment in New York. He held it out to her and tipped it upside down.
Brittany stared at it.
The Snow.
Her snowflake.
It all came rushing back in moments of tongue tied whispers and broken hearts.
BACK THEN
Open your eyes B, it's me, I've been here all along
Your there, and I'm here, where do we go from here?
Life after college, away from home, and New York City
You could try to change yourself in every which way possible. But the more things change, the more likely they are to stay the same. Santana thought that maybe this was everyone's flaw, an inability to change until something major happened that forces the change upon them. When it happens maybe it doesn't happen like this great big explosion or earthquake, where we're suddenly a different person. Maybe it's smaller than that, the kind of change that no one really notices unless they look at us closely. You notice it yourself though. You feel it inside, and when you feel it, you pray to god that this is the person you'll be forever, that you'll never change again.
Brittany had been gone for three months. In those three months, Santana had decided that she needed to concentrate on the one thing that made her who she was.
Her music.
She had met Andrew, who was now her agent. She had met him and he was currently producing her first album. She was going through the motions of creating a career for herself, playing in bars, playing at functions, people were slowly learning her name. She would wake up to messages and emails from Brittany, missed because of time differences, and different schedules and trying to fill spaces that had become impossible.
Santana stood over her kitchen sink, stirring the sugar into her coffee as she skimmed through Paste Magazine, she smiled as she saw her album printed on one of the pages. She stood smiling like an idiot for a good ten minutes, and then reached to ring Brittany but her phone signalled before she even had the chance to dial any digits.
"Rachel Berry!" Santana grinned.
Rachel Berry had come a long way in the space of six months, she had flown to Los Angeles, she had laid her heart on the line and she had told Quinn that if she didn't be with her, she may as well just stop breathing. Quinn had stared at her and told her that she should have come sooner.
"San, you would not believe what I am doing. Quinn and I just bought an apartment on Twelfth Avenue, I'm moving my production company to New York, we can have coffee at La Colombe, and you can take Quinn to all those museums because she's so completely obsessed with them, actually I think she's taking her portfolio…."
"Rachel!" Santana interrupted, "You're talking faster than my brain can process language!"
Rachel laughed, "Just meet me at The Dandelion," she said, "Come celebrate with us,"
Santana waited for the click of the phone call to end, before she looked at her screensaver, her and Brittany cheek to cheek, stupid faces, laughing at graduation.
"Why does the world keep us apart?" she whispered, "Why can't we have both?"