Turns out I had more to write than I anticipated, but the next update will be the last. Cheers!

We cross the Ohio state line during the late afternoon. After three hours on the road, the sun has finally began to hide behind the horizon. I glance over at Brittany whose constant yawns have left her eyes looking fatigued. Contrary to what she says, she hasn't slept well these past few days, and I now regret not having at least waited till morning to leave Ohio. I could have allowed her some real rest before dragging her out of her mom's house.

We've only got two more hours until we reach Chicago, but I suggest we stop at a hotel for the night.

"It's okay," Brittany assures me, her throaty and tired voice betraying her. "I'm okay. I can keep going." She then quickly glances back at me. "Are you tired? Do you want to stop?"

I honestly don't care about much right now. I could care less if we stop or keep driving for the next few hours, but Brittany is always of importance to me and right now she needs to rest. "Yeah..." I say, my head pressed against the car window. "Let's stop for the night."

We get off the interstate in Indiana and pull into a decent looking hotel in the city. While she stuffs some clothes for us in her duffel bag, I silently walk into the hotel and to the front desk.

"Is it just you tonight, Miss?" The receptionist asks after I ask for a room.

"Uh, no. It's me and- It's for two. Room for two."

"Great. Would you like twin beds or a double bed?"

I look back over my shoulder and see Brittany pushing some change into the vending machine by the entrance. We've been sharing a bed for the past few days but that's only because we were sharing her room. Neither of us had bothered questioning it. I was too busy crying and she was too busy holding me, but now there's a choice; a choice I choose to ignore because I'm not ready to sleep without her arms secured around me. "I'll…um. I'll have a double… please."

Just as the receptionist hands over the key card, Brittany arrives at my side and offers me one of two drinks she got from the vending machine. "Thanks," I say, taking the blue Gatorade from her and giving her a small knowing smile before leading the way to the elevator.

"Are you hungry?" She asks, rubbing my back as the metal box we're in ascends. "I think the cafe is still open."

I grimace at the idea of having to be around people. "Do you mind if we call room service?"

"We can do that," she nods, smiling softly.

When we arrive at our bedroom, Brittany drops her bag on the bed, appearing oblivious to the fact that I chose to get a single bed and not two. She rubs her hands together before blowing some air into them and moving directly towards the heater's control panel. After she's done pushing a few buttons, she asks, "How are you feeling?"

I shrug, my back facing her as a mindlessly run my eyes across the lettering of a pamphlet. "I don't know… Numb."

"Is there anything I can do?"

I turn to face her, an appreciative frown on my face. "I wish there was."

"Well," she murmurs, her hands landing on my arms. "How about some food? What do you want to eat?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know? Santana Lopez, a.k.a. The Human Food Vacuum, doesn't know what she wants to eat?"

I smile. "I don't know, Britt. You can choose."

"Mmm," Brittany hums, "I'll get us some cheeseburgers." She kisses my forehead and picks up the phone to call the kitchen.

As she puts in our order, I grab a towel and begin undressing where I'm out of sight. I don't know why I'm still hiding from her, she's seen me half naked more than once, but being fully nude in front of her somehow doesn't feel right at the moment.

Brittany hangs up the phone and turns around just in time to see me finish wrapping myself up in the towel. "Are you going to take a bath?"

I shake my head. "Just a quick shower."

"You should take a bath. I can start it for you," she offers, already standing up. "It'll make you feel better. I'll get the water nice and warm, and I can even feed you some fries instead of strawberries. Doesn't that sound romantic?"

I force out a chuckle. "I'll take the bath, but I think I'm skipping the fries."

"Your loss," Brittany shrugs, and leaves to start the bath.

As I dig through her bag for some night clothes, the silver watch secured around my wrist catches my attention. I bring it up to my chest and hold it there.

I'm only allowed to forget for so long.

"All ready," Brittany announces. "I wish there were some bubbles or bath salts we could throw in there." She comes to a halt when she sees me, startled by the way I'm holding my wrist. "Santana," she says, coming closer. "What's wrong?"

I finally look up, eyes flooded with tears. "She died alone, Brittany. She died alone because I wasn't there. If I had been there, if I had visited her sooner like she wanted me to, this wouldn't have happened. It's my fault that she's dead."

"No, honey," she says, gently. "It's not your fault."

All this crying feels so foreign to me. I hear myself sobbing and don't recognize the sound. Even the tears rolling down my face feel strange, it's only when Brittany's hands are on my cheeks that I feel some familiarity. "I let her die alone," I repeat.

"San, look at me." She holds my face directly in front of hers. "What happened is not your fault. There was no way you could have known, okay? There was just no way. None of it is your fault, San."

I shake my head in disagreement, my breathing becoming steady again.

"Sit down," Brittany directs me as she holds my hands. "We have no control over these things, Santana. You know that."

"It's just…" I say, my voice breaking. "She's absolutely, 100% gone, Brittany. I can't accept that."

Brittany says nothing. Her red, tired eyes looking into my equally tired ones. "It's going to be okay, San. It might not seem like it now, but it'll be ok. You'll be okay," she promises, her forehead pressed against mine.

As tears threaten to spill from my eyes again, I lean forward and kiss her lips, desperate to feel anything but this pain. It works. Her lips make me feel again, even if it's only a spark compared to the fireworks she provoked in me just a few days back on our couch in Chicago.

I press my lips harder against hers, searching for a stronger effect. Her hands come up to my face in an attempt to control the situation by pulling back, but I follow her. No way am I giving up the only thing that's keeping me from sinking to the bottom of the emptiness I feel in my heart. I don't want to be there, at least not now.

I push her back against the mattress and climb on top her, my robed chest pressing against her.

"Santana," she protest between kisses. Her hands are resting over my back but don't seem interested in exploring any further, so in a daring act of encouragement, I unwrap myself from the towel and toss it aside.

Brittany freezes beneath me, her hands hovering over my naked skin as if she'll burn herself if she makes contact. Her once sleepy eyes now wide awake. "San…" she says, looking conflicted.

I avoid her gaze and lower my head to kiss her neck, feeling her reluctantly begin to give in beneath me. I gently suck on her skin and feel her hands timidly start to slide down over my behind. She gives it a soft squeeze and I breathe heavily against her neck because who knew ass groping from Brittany would be such a turn on. Without a single warning, she turns us over and it's now her who's hovering over me. She straddles my hips in order to pull off her shirt and once that's on the floor, she leans down and covers my lips with her own. Her kisses are passionate, yet cautious. She's holding back and I can feel it in every single one of her movements.

On the contrary, my hands are everywhere: on her breasts, on her waist, on her arms. I can't get enough. I need more. I want to connect with her. I want to be one. I want her to make everything go away.

I pull her hand away from my chest and guide it past my waist. Brittany slows her kisses to tender pecks, and to my relief, she doesn't retract her hand when it reaches my center. Instead, she carefully caresses my most sensitive spot and watches for my reaction. I inhale sharply at her touch and shut my eyes tightly with pleasure causing one stupid, single tear to escape and travel down my face. When I open my eyes, I find Brittany staring down at me. Her movements pause and her gaze follows my tear as it trickles down my face. I quickly swipe my wet cheek and try giving her a smile; one that says I'm okay.

She observes me for a moment longer, her eyes full of worry. I can't stand the look she's giving me. She feels sorry for me. I try pulling her back down, but her hand slips away and she rolls off of me. "Let's get you in that bath," she says before carefully wrapping me back in the towel.

"Brittany…" I whine as she pulls her shirt back on.

"C'mon," she says, offering her hand which I accept with a defeated sigh.

As I dip myself into the warm, crystal water, Brittany receives our food. "Are you sure you don't want hand fed fries?" she asks as her arm stretches past the bathroom's doorway to show off a plate of french fries.

I smile and sink deeper into the nurturing water. "No, but will you at least get in here with me?" There's no need for discreteness anymore. I'm naked, and I want her naked too.

Her head peeks into the bathroom.

"Just to relax. I promise," I reassure her. "Please."

Wordlessly, almost timidly, she steps into the room and sets the food down on a nearby countertop. When she begins undressing, I shamelessly watch as she pulls her clothes off one by one and pay extra attention when she hooks her thumbs on the hem of her panties before pulling them down and tossing them on the pile of clothes.

I can feel my eyes roaming over the length of her body with not an ounce of self-control. Her body is absolute perfection, and if it weren't for the circumstances that currently make me feel guilty of enjoying anything, I'd ask her to just stand there.

"Sit behind me," I say when she comes closer. She does as I say and slides her body behind mine, making me feel like a puzzle piece who finally found it's counterpart.

Brittany reaches for a fry and feeds it to me. "See? Romantic."

I laugh - a genuine laugh - and rest my weight against her naked chest. "Very."

"Tomorrow will be a new day, San," she says as she strokes my hair front to back. "It will hurt less as the days go by. You'll see."

I shut my eyes and let her words sink in. If only life had a fast forward button.

/

It's been over two weeks and I'm beginning to think that maybe Brittany's theory of time cures pain is actually a load of bullcrap. Sure, I'm crying less and laughing a little more at her jokes, but it still hurts so much. During the day, when Brittany and Sugar aren't home, I take long naps because that's the only way I can stop myself from thinking and hurting, yet somehow I still manage to sleep all night.

Hunger has become a thing of the past. I haven't been eating much, which worries both Brittany and Sugar. They've been taking turns cooking dinner for us, and Sugar guilt trips me into eating a little bit every night. "We came home so tired today but still cooked this amazing food for you," she says. "At least try it."

Brittany rubs my back every night, and every night she asks how I feel and what I did that day. I wish she'd stop asking. Everyday I give her the same two answers accompanied by a shrug. "I'm okay," and, "Not much."

Brittany tries. She really does. She brings me magazines and movies for entertainment. She cooks my favorites. She cleans up around the apartment. She even brought a puppy one day to see if it made me feel any better. It kinda did, but like everything else, it left the next day and my sadness creeped back in. When I cry, she knows it's best to say nothing and just hold me, and although all this is because of my mom, she knows never to mention her.

However, a few nights ago, as we were lying in bed, she said something that took me aback. "San, I'm worried about you," she said while curled up behind me.

"I'm fine, Britt," I said, beginning to fall asleep.

I heard her sigh lightly before saying, "You've been sleeping a lot."

"Yeah… I'm tired."

She didn't say anything for a long while, then she cuddle closer to me and began stroking my arm. "When we were kids, my dad bought me a hamster, Harriet," she said. "I loved her so much. She was so cute and soft. I thought Lord Tubbington would like her as much as I did so I let them hang out in my room while I went to school, but when I came back home my mom said Lord Tubbington had been too rough with her and she had gone to hamster heaven… I was so, so sad that I didn't feel like doing anything other than sleep and cry... My mom said I was depressed and that it was normal, but I needed to keep going to school because Harriet would want me to become a vet and save other hamsters."

I turned around to face her, our faces half a foot from each other. "What are you saying?"

She tucked some loose hairs behind my ear and looked into my eyes. "I just want to see you happy again. I thought I'd be able to help you get there, but it's killing me that I'm… powerless."

"You're not powerless, Britt. You have helped so much. Just to see you everyday makes me feel better. This would be so much worse if you weren't here. I can assure you that."

"But… I just wish I could do more."

"You're doing all you can. This is just… I need to do this on my own. I need to mourn."

"I know," she said, lowering her gaze. "It just hurts me to see you hurt."

I tilted her chin up and pressed a kiss against her lips. "I'll be okay. You said it yourself, right?"

She nodded, unsure of herself as she played with the lace of my pajama pants. I don't think she meant anything by her actions, she looked pretty sad, but I thought that maybe physical contact would help her as much as it could potentially help me. I began running my hand up and down her side, and it was only when I slipped it beneath her cotton t-shirt that her her eyes met mine. The corner of my mouth twitched upwards, but she only continued to flick her eyes back and forth between my own. I leaned in to kiss her and pulled her closer by the waist. She kissed me back, but just like the last time we were close to doing this, she felt uneasy.

"It's okay," I said, not really knowing what I was talking about. My hand found her breast under her shirt and that's when she pulled away. "What's wrong?"

"We shouldn't," she said, straightening herself out.

"Why?"

She sighed. "I think you want it for the wrong reasons," she said, her voice sounding small.

"Brittany-" There was no point in arguing. She had somehow figured it out. I guess I'm not that hard to read after all.

"You're hurting… And I just… I don't think we should. It wouldn't be fair."

I nodded. "Okay. I'm sorry."

Brittany was right. It wouldn't be fair. She knew I'd be using sex to feel better. I regretted even trying. I care about her too much to do that to her, but sometimes I feel so alone and so sad that it's easy for me to forget that others have feelings too.

"Can I hold you?" I asked.

Brittany noded and shrunk in my arms, silence taking over the room. There was nothing but the sounds of our steady breathing and a cricket chirping outside the window. "I love you," Brittany whispered against my chest just as I had closed my eyes.

I shivered at the sound of her words and stalled for a moment before pushing the same three words past my lips. "I love you, too," I said.

/

Two weeks later…

One late evening, I wake up to sound of clattering pots and pans in the kitchen; a sign that Brittany and Sugar are home. I drag myself out of bed and towards the kitchen but stop a few feet out of sight when I hear my name being mentioned.

"Santana doesn't like raisins," Brittany states.

"She can pick them out," Sugar replies.

"Sugar, it's cereal. It'll take forever to pick them out."

"Then maybe you should go grocery shopping for us next time. You can pick all her favorites," she says, obviously annoyed. I hear them move around in silence for a moment before Sugar sighs and apologizes. "Sorry."

"It's okay," Brittany says. "I'll go get groceries next time."

"No, it's fine. I can do it," Sugar reassures her. "I'm sorry I snapped. I'm just tired from work."

"It's okay, Sugar. I understand. How about you go rest for a while," she says, her voice sounding more upbeat. "I'll finish dinner and call you when it's ready."

"No, no. It's fine. You already have Santana to take care of. I'll help you. Don't worry about me. Plus, you burnt dinner last night. I'm not about to eat overcooked chicken again."

They both giggle, and I walk back to my bedroom with a sinking heart. I hadn't realized what a burden I had become for them. "You already have Santana to take care of." Brittany has been taking care of me. I've been cared for like a child for the past month and a half. I've been dwelling so deep in my own misery, that I hadn't realized I had been dragging Brittany and Sugar down with me.

"Hey," Sugar calls from the doorway. "You're up," she says, surprised. "Dinner will be ready soon."

I nod. "Okay. Thanks." Sugar turns to leave, but I call for her. "Hey. Um. How are you?"

Her brow drops and she thinks about it before answering. "I'm… okay?"

"I ask because I feel like we haven't talked in a while. Since I've been… you know… sleeping, a lot."

Sugar's face relaxes and she takes a few steps into my bedroom. "You heard us talking?"

"I'm sorry I've been such deadweight," I say, dodging her question but not denying it. "And please don't say I haven't. I've been nothing but a burden for weeks."

"Santana, you're not a burden. You're my friend. I don't mind doing a little extra around here. Plus, you're allowed to feel sad right now."

"Maybe, but it shouldn't be your job to take care of me, nor Brittany's."

"It's not our job. It's what we chose to do because we care about you. And yeah, sometimes I get home a little tired and in a bad mood, but that's not your fault."

"Either way, I'm sorry. I'll start getting my shit together."

Sugar purses her lips. "You can take all the time you need. You didn't lose some distant cousin. This was your mom."

I take a deep shaky breath, feeling a knot begin to form in my throat at the mention of her. "I know, but I can't be like this forever. She'd be pissed if she saw what a mopey mess I've been."

"Well, may I suggest a starting point?"

I nod. "Sure.

"Shower. Brittany's too sweet to tell you, but you stink. Bad. Like really bad. Like you went for a swim in a swamp. Like you rolled in the cat's litter box and then she made you her permanent litter box. Like-"

"Alright! I get it. I'll shower."

She smiles. "Preferably before dinner."

"Fine."

"Great! I'll see you in a bit."

"Wait." I stand up from my seat on the bed and encircle her in my arms. "Thank you... You know- You know that I love you, right?"

Sugar holds me tight. "I know. I love you, too. But I can only hold my breath for so long..."

I push her away. "You're a bitch."

"A bitch that smells like daisies, more than you can say," she laughs.

"Whatever," I growl, locking myself in the bathroom.

/

Having surprised Brittany by showing up shower and perfumed to our dinner table really made me feel good, so I decide to keep the surprises going. When she gets home the next day, I welcome her with dinner and a spotless apartment, something that didn't take too much work anyway now that she has gotten rid of all of her cats. Well, all of them except for one. Yeah, Cam stayed, but I don't mind. She's been a great companion. She's silent and keeps her distance. I like her.

"It smells really great, San." Brittany examines the baked dish as it cools off on the kitchen counter.

"And it tastes even better," I say, scooping some of the warm food with a fork and feeding it to her. "Right?"

Her eyebrows shoot up. "Mhm! That's really good," she mumbles, her hand over her mouth.

"Told you. My mom would be proud."

"Is it one of her recipes?"

I nod. "The only one I know how to make."

"Well, it's great" she says, rubbing my shoulders as I pull out a few plates from the cupboard. "So… You're feeling better?"

"Well…" I sigh. "Better than yesterday."

"What exactly did Sugar say to you, anyway?"

"She just made me realize that I need to start taking control of my life again, which I'm glad she did because I found out I feel much better if I do more than sleep all day." I turn around and smile. "Ask me what I did today."

She chuckles. "What did you do today?"

"Well, I cooked for my lady-" I freeze. What did I just say? "Sorry, I…"

Brittany smiles sheepishly. "It's okay."

"Um. Anyway, I- I cleaned the apartment and I dusted off my shooting equipment," I finish, still gathering myself from that weird… Freudian slip?

"Really? Does that mean you're going to get back to work?"

"Well, no. Mallory called me and told me they replaced me at the studio, and I cancelled all my gigs for this month, so I I'm out of a job for now, but…" I pause, wondering if I should bring this up right now. "There's someone who I've always wanted to photograph, so maybe I can do it now."

"Oh," Brittany says as she scoops some food onto a plate. "Who is it?"

"Uh, well, you."

"Me?" She questions with wide eyes and a finger pointed at herself.

I chuckle at her reaction. "Why are you so surprised?"

"I don't- I'm just…" She shrugs. "Why me?"

"Why not?" I ask in disbelief. "You're beautiful, Britt."

She glances at me, her cheeks suddenly rosy. "You're just saying that," she argues as she pulls out a bottle of wine.

"Oh c'mon, like you don't know it."

She rolls her eyes. "You make it sound like I'm self-centered."

"I'm not saying that. What I'm saying is that you have eyes and you have a mirror. It's not shallow to admit it."

She pours some wine into a glass and chugs it, then pours another.

"So will you do it? Will you let me photograph you?"

She sighs. "I don't know."

"C'mon, Brittany." I stand behind her, my chin resting on her shoulder. "I just realized I need to keep busy or else I'll fall right back into my pit of misery. You said you wanted to do more to help me feel better, so here's your chance."

"That's not fair. Don't use what happened to get your way."

I take her by the arm and turn her around so that we're face to face. "If you don't want to do it, then that's fine, but it would really help me. And it'll be fun."

Brittany pouts and glances at my lips. "Where would we even do it?"

"Here. We can set up a background and some lights. It doesn't have to be anything fancy. We can just have fun with it."

She stares at my lips for a few more seconds before saying, "Fine. But only because it'll make you feel better."

I grin from ear to ear. "It will. See?" I point at my cheesy smile. "Already feeling better."

Brittany rolls her eyes with a smile. "You're a dork," she says then pulls me by the neck and kisses me. "I'll do anything for you."

/

"San… Santana…Wake up…"

I groan and wrap my head with the nearest pillow only for it to be yanked from me seconds later. "Brittany!" I whine when the light of day flashes my eyes. "What are you doing?"

"I have a surprise for you," Brittany says, sounding as excited as a child on Christmas morning.

"Show me in the morning." I turn away from her and shrink beneath the covers.

"It is morning. It's 10am."

"Too early," I mumble.

Brittany clicks her tongue in annoyance. "San," she tries one last time before leaving the room. Thirty minutes later, just as Scarlett Johansson is about to tear her shirt open and do to me as she wishes, I'm woken by the covers being yanked completely off of me. My scowl is so evident that Brittany's smirk fades a little at the sight of my face.

"Good morning," she says sweetly, kissing my cheek.

"Brittany, this better be good. You have no idea what you just interrupted," I say. Yeah it was only dream, but it was going to be the most action I've gotten in months.

She raises an eyebrow. "Scarlett, again?"

"How-"

"You talk to her in your sleep. It's kinda hot." She takes my hand and pulls me into the living room until we're standing next to the window that leads to the fire escape. "Are you ready?" she says, excitedly pushing up on her tippy-toes as she speaks.

I can't help but smile and nod. She opens up the window and there on the fire escape sit a few small, rectangular, wooden boxes filled with dirt. My brow furrows. "You got me dirt?" I ask.

"It's not dirt, it's soil, so you can grow a garden… Like your mom's," she says carefully. "We can plant some spinach or some broccoli, and when Summer gets here, we can grow tomatoes and strawberries!" She looks at me, her expression excited with a hint of apprehension. I don't know if she's worried that I might run off crying after she mentioned my mom or that I might simply not like it. She was right to expect tears, but I don't run. "San, I'm sorry," she says when I wipe my cheeks. "I can get it out of here. I'm sorry."

"No, Britt," I say with a sniffle. "This is great. I love it."

"Really?" she asks, not too convinced.

"Yeah." I nod. "It's super sweet of you to do this, and I can't wait to use it. Really." I push myself up on my toes and kiss her lips. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," she says proudly. She pulls a hefty bag in from the fire escape and holds it up. "I got some fertilizer. Do you want to help me mix it in?"

I nod again. "Sure."

As we dig our hands into the cold soil, neither of us can stop smiling, and I don't really know why that is. I catch her looking at me and we both laugh. "What?" I ask through a giggle.

Brittany shakes her head with a smile. "Nothing."

"Britt," I start, my voice a little more serious. "Will you actually be here next Summer?"

She frowns. "What do you mean? Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, before all this happened, you were about to look at apartments so…" I shrug. "Is that still your plan?"

"Oh," she says. I don't think she had thought about that since the last time we spoke about it. She looks as if she's trying to come up with a quick decision in her head. "Um… I don't really know. I think I'd like to stay a little longer. Just til I know you're doing okay."

"It's not like I'm going to jump out this window or something," I chuckle. "I might be a little depressed, but I'm not suicidal."

"I know but…" She looks at me timidly. "Do... you want me to go?""

"What! No. Of course not."

"I know I've been here for way longer than I said I would."

"No, Brittany. I'm not asking because I'm trying to get rid of you, are you kidding me? If it were up to me, I'd keep you here forever." At that, Brittany's face breaks into a shy smile. "I was just wondering. You know you're welcome to stay. I mean, we all get to save money if you stay and we keep splitting rent," I add.

"So you just want to keep me around for financial purposes?" She teases.

"What? No." Some truth is in dire need here. "Look. I'd love if you were to stay. You know having you here makes me happy. I've told you that already. It might be a little selfish, but it's the truth. I really like having you here… close."

Brittany nods silently. "I like being close."

"And…" I pause, averting her eyes as I brush off soil from my pajama pants. "If you can't bare that old couch anymore, then... I don't mind sharing my room with you. I mean, you've been sleeping with me on most nights anyway… Unless you're uncomfortable," I quickly add. "In which case, we can get that pull out couch we talked about."

"I like your bed," she says casually as she begins packing up the fertilizer.

"So… does that mean you'll stay?"

"I'll stay."

"Really?"

She grins wide and helps me stand up. "Yeah. I want to stay. I really do."

"That's great, Brittany!" I say, unable to contain my excitement. "That's really great. It's especially good news for this soon to be garden cause I don't think it'd survive with me as its only parent."

Brittany laughs and squeezes my hand. "Don't worry about that. We'll do some great co-parenting. You'll see."