A/N: Here it is, the final chapter. I took a lot of time thinking about how to end this story, I hope I did it well. Let me know : D
As Santana walked from the field to the Cheerios' locker room, she knew she was in a mood. It wasn't a good mood either. Nor was it one of her usual being a bitch for fun moods. It was a bad mood. Where everyone and everything annoyed her, and she had no patience for anything, most especially annoying underclassmen trying to suck up to her.
"I'm sorry that your parents dropped you on your head when you were born, and the resulting brain damage might excuse some of your decisions, like your taste in clothes, but it doesn't explain why you're talking to me." She stopped walking to face one of the two new freshmen on the team. "Who are you?"
"Ma-"
Santana held up a hand, stopping the girl from talking. "That wasn't an invitation to tell me your name. The fact that I don't already know it means the answer to that question is no one. You are no one…say it with me. You are…"
"I am no one" the girls said, one looking close to tears.
"Good. So the second question is, why are you talking to me?"
One girl stared at her with wide eyes, her mouth shut tight. The other was staring at the floor. Santana rolled her eyes and walked away.
Just as she was about to walk into the locker room, she was stopped yet again.
"BOOBS MCGEE"
She paused with her hand on the door, closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
"Yes coach?" she asked, forcing her voice to be respectful. Coach Sue waited till she had walked right up in front of her to speak.
"Where's my daily report?"
"It's 7:45 coach"
"Do you want a medal for knowing the time?"
Santana frowned, her anger, which was already so close to the surface rising. "Well how am I supposed to give you a daily report when the day has just started?"
"That's not my problem is it?" She clenched her jaw. "Something to say?"
"No coach. I'll have your report to you by lunch."
"Sloppy. If I knew this was how you were going to run my squad I wouldn't have made you head cheerleader." She looked at Santana as if waiting for her to respond. "I guess that's what I get for hiring an immigrant."
Santana fists balled up, and she had to bite her tongue hard to keep from saying anything. Getting back on the Cheerios had been hard enough, and becoming head cheerleader was more than she'd hoped for. She could not afford to get into it with Coach Sue while she was still on thin ice. Her coach, who she was convinced was actually evil, smirked at her, like she knew the power she held.
"Do better"
"Yes coach" Santana said, though all politeness was gone. "Sorry coach."
Finally, she made her way into the locker room. She didn't care that she'd probably be late to her first class, she needed a shower. A long one. She set her clipboard and pen in her locker, took out her towel and went into the shower.
"Santana?"
She'd finished actually getting clean a while ago. Now she was just standing under the steady stream of water, trying to relax her muscles. She didn't bother responding.
"Why are you still in the shower? You're going to be late."
She didn't respond again.
She usually would have but she wasn't in a good mood, and already wasn't too happy with Brittany. She didn't want to risk being mean to her. Not when they'd just started dating.
"Are you coming to class?"
"Why wouldn't I come to class?"
She shut off the water, not feeling any more relaxed than when she'd gone in. As she wrapped the towel around herself she saw Brittany shrug, biting her bottom lip. That was a sign that she was uncomfortable.
She walked out of the stall to her locker and started getting dressed. Brittany didn't watch her like she usually did when no one was around. Santana was glad. She wasn't in the mood on so many levels.
"Do you want me to wait for you?" Brittany asked as she began oiling herself. Santana shrugged. In truth she wanted to say no. Not because she didn't want to be around Brittany, but because trying to keep herself in check was making her more stressed out. She wished she knew why she was in a bad mood, at least then she could tell Brittany.
Brittany sat down on the bench, her hands in her lap and head bowed. Santana struggled with herself for a while, but as she put on her bra and underwear, removing the towel from her body, she turned to face Brittany.
"I'm not in a good mood Britt."
Brittany looked up, a small smile on her face. It confused Santana at first, but then she realised it was pride.
"I know" Brittany said, standing up. She walked up to Santana, putting her hands on her waist. "Thanks for telling me though" she kissed Santana quickly and gently. Her energy seemed to have been completely transformed by Santana's statement. From nervous and awkward to cool and slightly playful. "Do you want space?"
Santana cocked her head to the side, surveying Brittany and her options. She wanted to say yes, but she wasn't sure if that would hurt Brittany's feelings or prove her to be a bad girlfriend. She didn't want to mess up. There had been enough of that last year to last a lifetime. She was about to shake her head when Brittany spoke, her hands rubbing up and down Santana's arms.
"You can say yes. Sometimes it's okay to need a little space."
Santana looked down, still feeling like she was doing something wrong as she nodded. Brittany kissed her forehead and let her go. The fact that she could breathe a little easier disgusted her to no end.
"Let me know when you don't want space anymore"
"Okay"
When the door had shut behind Brittany, she sat down on the bench, her clean Cheerios shirt in her hands. "What is wrong with you Santana?"
The rest of the day didn't bring with it any reprieve from her mood. She got a lecture from Puck and Finn about choosing the Cheerios over glee, and how she should go to Mr Schue's office immediately and re-swear her allegiance to him. She got an earful from Rachel, who she was now avoiding, about loyalty and morals, and another tongue lashing from Coach Sue when she submitted the report she'd asked for. She was not pleased that it didn't include the afternoon practice.
"What am I supposed to do with this?" Sue had asked when she'd read through the report. "Where's the second practice?"
"It's at 3:45 coach"
"EXCUSES!"
Santana's head was now aching as she sat in her car. She needed the space and time away from everyone to feel sane again. Right now Brittany was at glee club.
It was strange, but she really didn't feel all that bad about not being there. She was too overwhelmed as it was, with her parents only ever talking about universities, and becoming captain of the cheerios, not to mention the stress of finally getting to date Brittany but trying to hide it from everyone. All in all, not having to deal with the petty drama of the glee club, or the unnecessary work that was coming up with a performance every week was a plus in her book. Eventually, she would go back. Of course she would, she loved glee. But she hadn't been kidding when she said she could use a break.
It was this however, that had her and Brittany on a bit of a…rocky place. They weren't mad at each other, but there was just a bit of a disconnect. Brittany didn't like that she'd set fire to the piano, and she didn't like that Brittany hadn't had her back. They weren't petty enough to fight over it, but they hadn't really talked about it either, and that was a problem.
If she was going to have any peace of mind at all, she would need to talk to Brittany.
Her phone alarm went off, making her jump. As she shut it off, she sighed. She was so tired and drained, the last thing she wanted to do was go to Cheerios practice, but there was no getting out of it. Becky would be all too happy to tell Coach that she was slacking. She stared up at the ceiling, counted to ten, then sat up and jumped out of her car.
She met one of the juniors standing a few feet from her car. She wasn't surprised. This girl was in line to take over from her, so she was basically her assistant. It was her job to know where Santana was at all times, and to be close enough that she could easily be called on when needed. She silently handed Santana the clipboard and pen.
"Are they all there?"
"No" the girl said, moving out of Santana's way. "I left them all heading there though."
Santana checked her phone for the time. As her coach would say, sloppy. It was 2 minutes to 3:45. She debated with herself for a second, then broke into a sprint. She reached the field in less than a minute. Brittany and a few other seniors and juniors were there, but about half the team weren't. She watched the clock until it turned 3:45, then she turned towards the school and watched. Every girl that arrived from that point had to do 50 suicides. She wrote their names down as well. She'd keep an eye on them.
"Stop!" Becky shouted. Santana was glad. What she was watching was just….awful. She walked to Becky, who was shaking her head.
"We can't show this to coach." Santana said.
"Well what are you gonna do about it bitch?"
"We're co-captains you know? If the team sucks it's on both of us."
Becky shrugged. "That's what you think." Santana rolled her eyes and turned back to the group.
"Hold this" she thrust the clipboard into Becky's chest. Walking amongst the group of cheerleaders, she picked four girls out and pulled them to the front. The two freshmen, a sophomore and a junior. "Do a backflip." They stood awkwardly. "Do you not know what a backflip is?"
"No but…who are you talking to?" the junior asked. Santana scowled.
"All of you"
They all stood up straight, and did a backflip. Santana looked back at Becky who rolled her eyes. Only the junior had done the backflip properly. One of the freshmen had fallen, and the other just barely managed to do it, but her landing was more than unstable and she stumbled into the sophomore.
"Do it again" Santana said. The second time wasn't any better. She glared at them for a moment, conveying how disappointing that display was, then she went into the group of cheerleaders again, and pulled out Brittany and two other girls from her class. "Move" she ordered the four underclassmen. They rushed out of the way. When she and the other girls were in a line, she looked straight ahead, lifted her head and did a backflip. To prove her point, just as she landed she did a second one, and then flipped, landing solidly with her hands in the air. She didn't have to look to see that the other three girls were beside her in the same position. The looks on the faces of the four girls she had first called out told her they had been perfectly synchronized.
Straightening her shirt, she marched up to the four girls. "If you can't do that by end of tomorrow, you're off the squad." Their eyes widened. "Now go run laps, I can see your rolls of fat every time you raise your hands" she looked at the sophomore and smirked evilly as the girl tugged at her shirt. When they had ran off, she turned back to the group of girls, ignoring the look Brittany was giving her.
"We're running it again. Hopefully without those four fucking up we'll be able to do it smoothly." All the girls got back into formation. Before Becky started the music, she looked at the girl to her left. "Grab my leg the way you did last time and you'll lose the arm." The girl nodded frantically, whispering a 'sorry' just as the music started.
She kept them at practice for an extra thirty minutes, until she was satisfied with what they had accomplished, and by the time they were all leaving, Brittany was the only one not looking dead. Santana caught up with her as they walked to the parking lot. She was walking with the other two girls she had called out to do backflips with. Ignoring them, Santana linked her pinkie through Brittany's and pulled her away. Brittany didn't resist, smiling and waving at the two girls.
"I don't want space anymore" Santana said. Brittany smiled sweetly at her and nodded.
"Okay"
They didn't talk until they got to Santana's house and were up in her room. Santana had just come out of the bathroom and was for the second time that day in front of Brittany in just a towel.
"So what's wrong?" Brittany asked. She was sitting on Santana's desk chair, swivelling back and forth while sucking on a lollipop.
"Woke up on the wrong side of the bed I guess."
"No" Brittany said, now spinning around completely.
"What?" Santana asked, dropping the towel since she now had underwear on.
"It's not cause you woke up on the wrong side of the bed. I slept over here, and you woke up on the same side you wake up on every day."
Santana stared at Brittany, utterly confused. They'd had a conversation like this before, so Santana knew Brittany understood what the saying meant. She'd explained it to her herself. Just as she was starting to get irritated by Brittany's aloofness, Brittany stopped spinning, took the lollipop out of her mouth and moved to sit on the bed.
"I think I know what's wrong…do you want to hear it?"
Santana cocked her head to the side. "Sure"
"Promise you won't get all…sharp and thorny" Brittany asked, looking down at her hands.
Santana's smile was crooked as she moved to sit on the foot of her bed. "I promise"
"I think that everything's going well for you right now…your parents are home all the time and interested in your life, you're captain of the Cheerios," she looked up and grinned at Santana, "we're dating." Santana smiled. "And you feel like it's going to end"
Santana twirled a lock of hair as she thought about what Brittany was saying.
"Why would it end?" she asked quietly. Brittany looked at her like one would a child who was struggling to understand something.
"When you come out" she told her quietly. "You don't know what's going to happen, but you think things are going to change."
"You don't?" Santana asked, a little harsher than she'd intended. Brittany shrugged, looking down at the lollipop she was playing with.
"Not really. I mean we won't be hiding anymore, but otherwise…"
"Brittany, everything's going to change. Once people know, they're absolutely going to treat us differently."
"They might not"
Santana scoffed, standing up. "Come on! You saw what happened to Kurt."
"Yeah but that was mostly Karofsky, and we all know what that was about."
Santana's irritation was mounting. All her anger of the day and stress of the week just bubbling out.
"Stop acting like I'm being irrational. It wasn't just Karofsky. Yeah he was the worst, but he wasn't alone. There was Finn and Puck, and then there was Azimio and Kyle and Jeremy. I was one of them too Christ! This is a real thing Brittany, with real consequences. Things are 100 percent going to be different."
"Okay…" Brittany said pacifyingly. "Maybe they will be, but it doesn't have to be worse. Santana I see what living this double life does to you. I see how straining it is, how scared you are. Maybe once it's all out in the open it'll be easier."
"Why are you bringing the fire into this?"
"I haven't said anything about the fire. You're being paranoid."
"I know you Brittany." Santana said exasperatedly. "Stop beating around the bush and just say what you want to say."
"You're the one who brought it up, I was talking about pretending you're not a lesbian."
"Just say it!" Santana yelled.
"Fine. If you weren't so scared of people finding out about us, then you would have no problem being loyal to glee. You wouldn't be holding on so tightly to the Cheerios, and you wouldn't care that people knew you actually loved glee club."
"It's not that simple" Santana said, crossing her arms.
"I know. I'm not trying to say that it is, and I'm not saying it's easy, but this….the way you're living now…this isn't easy either."
Santana turned around to look for pants, taking a minute to think. She didn't want to admit that Brittany was right, but she was. She couldn't take the stress of pretending and looking over her shoulder, all while acting like she didn't care, any longer. It was too much, and the cracks were showing.
Pulling a pair of sweats from her drawer and putting them on, she turned to face Brittany again.
"I've never been bullied. Literally never in my life, and I've been slushied once, by fucking Karofsky. I can't…I don't know how to handle it."
"You don't have to" Brittany shrugged, putting the lollipop back into her mouth. Santana sighed, burying her head in her hands.
"Brittany" she said in exasperation. Brittany giggled, kneeling on the bed and moving till she was right in front of Santana. She peeled away Santana's arms.
"You're Santana Lopez" Brittany said around the lollipop. "No one would ever dare to bully you. Remember when you thought quitting the Cheerios would mean we got bullied…" Brittany raised her eyebrows. "We didn't"
"This is different."
"It's not. Some people are just…bullyable."
"What?" Santana couldn't help but laugh.
"Kurt. I love him, but he's just so easy to bully. He's small and defenceless and kind of annoying sometimes. But Santana Lopez is like…the opposite of that. Trust me, you'll be fine." As she spoke, her eyes drifted down to Santana's exposed chest. Santana smirked.
"Oh yeah?" she asked, her arm wrapping around Brittany. "Why's that?"
Brittany licked her lips, both hands snaking into Santana's pants and cupping her ass.
"Cause your super sexy" she said, her lips a hairs width from Santana's. Moving back, she pulled Santana until she was kneeling on the bed as well. "And confident" Santana lifted her shirt up, forcing her to lift her arms so it could come off, then pushed her down onto the bed. "And strong."
Santana kissed down her neck till she reached her chest, and as Brittany's fingers tangled in her still damp hair, she moved down further, kissing along the waistband of Brittany's pants.
"And smart" Brittany moaned when she nibbled on the spot where her hip-bones were visible. Santana smirked up at her, slowly dragging down her pants.
From there things moved quickly. Santana lay between Brittany's legs, one of them over her shoulder, and without any teasing or build-up, which didn't happened often, she ran her tongue through Brittany's slit. Brittany moaned loudly, her grip tightening in Santana's hair as she pushed her closer. She dropped the lollipop, which she had removed from her mouth at some point, on to the bed. One of Santana's hands snaked up Brittany's body until it reached her breast, then proceeded to pinch and tweak the nipple. Brittany's hips rose from the bed as at that exact moment Santana's tongue brushed against her clit.
"Shit" she hissed.
Santana moaned at her cursing, doing it again.
"Shit" Brittany said again.
Her breathing was ragged and her grip tighter still, and Santana loved it. Sucking particularly hard on the throbbing nub before her, she pushed off the mattress. On Brittany's long and drawn out moan, she let go, moving up her body until her mouth was at the nipple she'd been playing with. Brittany opened her eyes, her lips parted as she breathed heavily. Unable to resist, Santana moved up further, kissing Brittany, her left hand moving between Brittany's legs.
Brittany's eyes fluttered when she felt Santana enter her. Her hips rose off the bed slightly and her arms wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her as close as she could. Santana buried her head in Brittany's neck, kissing and biting, but allowing herself to relish the feeling of being with Brittany. Of their bodies rubbing together and Brittany's hot breath in her ear as she slipped in and out of her. Of how warm and wet and soft Brittany was. Of how right it felt.
"Fuck Santana….harder"
Santana lifted one leg over Brittany's and ground down, using her hips to push her hand in harder. They both moaned.
"Fuck yes" Brittany said, grabbing Santana's ass and jerking her hips up to meet Santana's hand. She opened her legs wider, removed one hand from Santana's pants and pulled her head up roughly by her hair, kissing her fiercely. Santana's hand did not stop its movements. "I'm gonna cum"
Santana pulled back, wanting to see Brittany when she finally fell off the edge. It was always her favourite part of sex. More than the pleasure she herself felt. Brittany was just so beautiful and open, and if she could Santana would take a picture.
When Brittany began pressing her legs together, her nails digging into Santana's back and ass and eyes falling shut, Santana pressed kisses all over her neck and up to her cheeks, loving the breathy way Brittany moaned her name. She increased the pace to match Brittany's wild humping, rubbing her clit with her thumb to help drag out her orgasm.
Finally Brittany stopped shaking, her body relaxing into the mattress. Santana's hand slowed to a stop, but remained inside her. Brittany opened her eyes and smiled.
In the silence before either of them spoke, they heard the front door open and close, and the sound of Santana's father's voice. Santana's eyes opened in panic and she sat up, pulling her hand from Brittany quickly. Brittany winced.
"Sorry" Santana whispered, rushing around the room. She threw Brittany her shirt and pants, grabbed her own towel and ran back into the bathroom, closing the door silently. Brittany pulled on her clothes and snatched a book from Santana's study table. Just as she opened it, she heard the shower running, and then Santana's door opened.
"San-oh hi Brittany"
"Hi Mr Lopez" Brittany said cheerily, trying not to think about what she and Santana had just been doing. "How are you?"
"Oh you know….work, work and more work." Brittany nodded sympathetically. "How are you?"
"Senior year, lots of work, glee's a lot of fun, Cheerios is tiring but fun too."
"That's good. This is your last year. You should make the most of it."
"I'm trying to" Brittany said, grinning.
"Good, good. Santana?" Brittany pointed to the bathroom door. Stephen nodded. "Please tell her to come find me when she's done."
"Sure Mr Lopez!"
"Thanks Brittany. See you later"
Nearly a minute after the door shut, the water was turned off and Santana's head poked out. Brittany pressed her lips together, picked the lollipop that had been forgotten on the bed and put it in her mouth, looking at Santana. Santana swallowed, leaning her head against the door frame.
"Yeah. I know…"
Brittany shook her head, sighing. "C'mere"
Santana pushed off the door and walked to Brittany, falling into her lap and sighing.
"I'm sorry" she whispered.
"It's okay."
"It's not."
"It is. It won't be like this forever, and I can wait."
Santana turned onto her side to look up at Brittany. "You shouldn't have to."
"You shouldn't have to come out till you're ready."
"I want to be ready"
Brittany smiled, bending down to kiss Santana's head.
"I know"
After a moment of silence, Santana took Brittany's hand, intertwining their fingers.
"I'm sorry I lit that piano on fire"
Brittany ran her thumb over the back of Santana's hand.
"I'm sorry I didn't defend you in glee club"
Santana half smiled.
"It's okay"
Santana woke up on her own for the first time in a while. Instead of a baby crying, or an alarm for work, her mind simply switched on, as if it had decided she'd slept enough. She didn't feel tired or sleepy, but the digital clock on her bedside told her it was too early to go in to work. After a few minutes of watching Brittany sleep, something she hadn't been able to do in a long time, she gently kissed Brittany's forehead and got out of bed.
She went downstairs to put on a cup of coffee, and found herself lost in thought as the sound of the machine filled the kitchen.
Samantha's question about what had triggered her Bulimia had been bugging her for two weeks. She'd had two sessions since then and each time Samantha had asked her for an answer. But Santana didn't know. She wasn't sure anything had happened to specifically trigger it. All she knew was that she was exhausted and then she'd realised she and Brittany hadn't had sex in months. Had she been a little self-conscious about that? Maybe. Her first thought had been that Brittany didn't want to have sex with her because she was gross and adding weight. That had been the first time in years that she had even thought about her weight, but what triggered that thought? Santana couldn't say. It was just how her mind worked. How it had always worked. Always jumping to the worst case scenario, always assuming people were thinking the worst of her.
There was no reason for it, she was just born that way.
So the last two sessions with Samantha had been difficult to say the least. Samantha was adamant that Santana wasn't digging deep enough. That she was refusing to open old wounds and really look into what had been going through her mind when she'd first locked herself in the bathroom. So she pushed her. Santana had to give it to her, Samantha was a tough woman. She'd fully expected to be kicked out after a particularly spiteful comment on her part, but Samantha had simply taken a breath and tilted her head.
"If I was wrong, you wouldn't be this defensive Santana." Samantha had said. Santana had stormed out.
For a few days she'd vented to herself, because she wasn't sure Brittany would be happy to hear what she had to say, about therapy, and Samantha and how they were both stupid. But then the truth of it had set in and she'd begun to wonder. Why was she being so defensive? What was it about this particular topic that turned her back into her high school self, in denial and refusing help.
Santana jumped slightly as the coffee maker beeped.
With a fresh cup of coffee, Santana went back upstairs to check on the babies. It was still a bit early for either of them to be up, but sometimes Jesus would wake up and stay quietly in his crib, staring at the mobile. This was how Santana found him when she walked in, lying flat on his back and staring wide eyed at the slowly spinning mobile. Kyler was still asleep.
Placing her cup on the changing table, Santana lowered the side of the crib and climbed into it. Jesus crawled to her, laying half his body over her stomach with his red resting on her boob.
"Morning my baby."
Her left hand started making gentle circles on his back as she closed her eyes. The only time she didn't feel out of control of angry lately was when she was with her sons. The way they were always so happy to see her, always happy for hugs and kisses, made her feel like she could just exist for a moment, without having to think about why she was so messed up.
"I'm sh-bad at a lot of things Jesus." She whispered. "And I might be a mess right now….maybe always, but you will never be. I promise I'm going to take care of you. I'm going to make sure you grow up loved and adored. I'm going to make sure you never know what it's like to feel like a mistake. Like you have to earn love, and any mistakes you make can cost you it."
She opened her eyes and looked down at the baby on her chest.
"You are the light, the love and the pride in my heart and in my life. You are and always will be the source of my greatest happiness, no matter who you grow up to become, and I promise to make sure you know that. That you feel-"
Jesus placed his palm over Santana's mouth, making her giggle. He'd developed the habit of doing that whenever he was cuddling or being fed a bottle. Brittany had realised he was asking for a kiss, since she and Santana often kissed the boy's hands when they were holding them across their chests trying to get them to sleep.
Obliging him, Santana took his hand and pressed it to her lips, kissing it several times and then holding it against her lips.
"I love you amor."
When Jesus had woken up enough to be hungry, Santana took him downstairs. The clock on the microwave said 7:07, which meant Brittany was about to get up, so after Santana made up Jesus' bottle of milk, she decided to make breakfast.
When she was younger, like maybe five or six, Santana remembered loving the days her mother would cook, because she would play salsa music as she cooked and dance around the kitchen. It didn't happen often because her mother was rarely home early enough to cook dinner, and left too early to make breakfast, but sometimes on her days off or over the weekends she didn't work, Santana would beg her to cook, and the two of them would dance and laugh as her mum taught her easy recipes.
They were the few memories Santana had before her image of her mother was tainted by her anger and resentment, and they reminded her that her parents weren't bad people. They weren't bad parents. They weren't the Pierces, all warm and affectionate, but they loved Santana, back when she used to let them.
She knew these things, yet she couldn't bring herself to forgive them. She thought she had, but now she was a mother herself, and she couldn't imagine leaving her sons to do anything by themselves. Couldn't imagine not picking them from school or showing up to their football games or dance recitals. She couldn't imagine leaving them in the house until it got dark, to put themselves to bed, and then leaving so early in the morning that they had to eat breakfast alone. There was a disconnect between the part of her that was a daughter who recognised that her parents had done their best, and the part that was a mother and thought their best wasn't good enough.
Trying to reconcile the two had been giving Santana headaches. So instead of trying to, she decided to learn from her parents. Some of these small things had stuck with her after years of anger and fighting with her other, which meant that the small things mattered. So she ran upstairs quickly and got her phone. She was going to make breakfast while she sang and danced, and give her sons small things like that to remember when they were older.
Santana sat in her car for nearly an hour, debating about going in the Samantha's office. She knew she didn't yet have an answer to her question, and in trying to get her to find one, Samantha was going to tear into her, call her out and expose her insecurities. She knew it was necessary, but that didn't mean she liked it, or that she could stop herself from fighting back. Having someone dissect her entire life, telling her in actual words all the ways she was messed up, all the things she was deprived off, all the unhealthy ways she learned to cope, was not a fun thing. It was not an easy thing. And it was not something Santana was wired to accept.
Still, she'd promised Brittany she was going to get help, and Brittany was always saying how proud she was that Santana was doing this. How proud she was of how much she'd grown, and how much she loved her for doing this for herself. She knew that if she told Brittany she was done, Brittany might not fight her on it, but she knew Brittany would be disappointed. Santana didn't think she could handle that. It would be like promising Brittany she would go to prom with her and then chickening out. She hadn't been mad then either, but the disappointment had been agony for Santana. She'd never felt so ashamed of herself in her life.
Taking a deep breath, she got out of the car.
"Why don't you tell me about your grandmother?"
Santana actually felt her entire body flinch.
"I don't talk about her."
"Do you not think that's a problem?"
"I think it's a boundary."
"Do you talk about her with Brittany?"
"No."
"You don't talk about her at all?"
Santana narrowed her eyes and bit her tongue. She'd insulted Samantha enough in the last session.
"Santana, she raised you. Right?"
Santana didn't respond. She didn't nod or speak, she didn't even blink.
"You told me that you spent most weekends and holidays at her house. You stayed with her when your parents were out of town until they thought you were old enough to stay on your own. She was the one called to school when you were in trouble, who took you to hospital when you were unwell. Right?"
"You're testing me Samantha."
"I'm just to say that your refusal to discuss someone who was such a big part of my life is an indication that she may be a big part of your trauma as well."
"Stop."
"Said she wasn't a nice woman."
"Stop it." Santana pointed threateningly at Samantha, feeling the rage building inside of her.
Samantha sighed.
For a few minutes neither of them spoke. Santana was trying hard to keep her thoughts away from her grandmother, who she never let herself think about. It was the only way she could go through life without fighting the urge to cry.
"Santana, do you think it's possible, that the voice in your head that told you being gay was wrong, is the same one that tells you you're fat? That your grandmother-"
"Shut up!" Santana jumped up. "Just shut the hell up. What the fuck do you know about how my abuela raised me?" Her voice shook as she yelled. "What the fuck do you know about what it means to raise a Latina girl? You don't know what she had to prepare me for. You don't know how strong she had to make me."
She grabbed her purse from the couch and stormed out of the room, slamming the door so hard it echoed down the hall.
Tears were streaming down her face as she got into the elevator to the basement, and by the time she was getting to her car she was screaming. She too out her keys and then threw her purse at the windshield of the car, kicking the car tire as soon as she was close enough. Her hands were shaking so much it took her nearly a minute to unlock the car, and when she had, she beat the steering wheel as hard as she could, over and over again until she didn't have the strength to anymore.
Her abuela was harsh, that wasn't news. She was rude and could be mean, she was judgmental and opinionated, but she'd been there for Santana all of her life. She'd helped her with her homework and read her the bible. She'd braided her hair and taught her how to cook and made her disgusting home remedies when she was sick. She was the one reliable person in Santana's life until Brittany had come into it, and it broke Santana in more ways than one when he grandmother had turned on her and kicked her out.
Who the hell did Samantha think she was to bring her abuela up like that? Even Brittany knew not to talk about her. Santana never talked about her and Samantha had just….
Santana wiped her eyes harshly, leaving her cheeks slightly pink, got out of the car and marched back into the building. She threw the door to Samantha's office open with so much force that it banged against the wall behind it, and advanced on Samantha. She was sitting behind her desk now, rather than on the chair opposite the couch like she did during sessions.
"You don't know her." Santana said in a low, threatening voice. "You don't know what she did for me."
Samantha looked calmly up at her. Closing the laptop in front of her and joining her hands over it.
"My abuela was there for me when my parents weren't. When they chose work over me, she always had time for me. She taught me everything and made me who I am."
Samantha nodded.
"Exactly."
Santana frowned.
"What?"
"We are all moulded by the people that raise us. The people around when we are kids are the ones that inform who we grow into. You have severe insecurities, anger issues, trust issues, and for a while, internalised homophobia. You have underdeveloped emotional intelligence and an acute fear of rejection. And who raised you?"
Santana took several steps back, shaking her head.
"Your grandmother instilled in you the idea that other people define your worth Santana."
"No…my parents-"
"Your parents weren't around and that in itself does have consequences I'm sure, but you've told me yourself that when you were struggling with coming out, it was because a voice in your head kept telling you it was wrong. That who you are is wrong. This was not something you learned because of your parents' absence. This is something you were told."
Santana dropped heavily onto the couch, still shaking her head. She knew her abuela was the person she was most afraid of coming out to, because she was the most religious in the family, but now that she thought about it, her grandmother hadn't even told her who she was was wrong. She'd said the sin wasn't in the thing, but in talking about it. She was ashamed because now Santana's secret was out and people would know. Wasn't that exactly what Santana had been afraid of? People finding out? What people would say behind her back?
Her grandmother wasn't a nice person, Santana had said this before, but had she really been in denial about what that meant. Had she actually been abused all her childhood?
"She…" Santana took in a shuddering breath, forcing her tears back. "She raised me on insults."
Samantha stood up and walked to her usual seat, crossing one leg over the other.
"She…all my life she called me names and…she told me I wasn't good enough. I thought I got over it. That I was used to it. That it made me strong and gave me thick skin."
"You might be used to it, but being used to something does not make it okay. And as children we internalise the words of the adults around us. If they tell us we aren't pretty, we believe them, and forever strive to attain whatever standard of beauty we think will please them."
"But she loved me."
"I'm sure she did." Samantha nodded. "She may have been raising you the way she was raised. It doesn't matter Santana."
Santana's eyes widened.
The day she had first thought that she and Brittany were becoming lazy, they'd been talking about the Cheerios. Brittany had said,
"Can you imagine if Coach Sue saw us now?"
And Santana had thought, 'She'd be almost as disgusted as my abuela.' Catching the words on the tip of her tongue.
It was only a few days later that she'd asked Brittany if she thought she was fat, and a few days after that, that she'd thrown up for the first time.
It was because she'd thought about what her abuela would think of her.
"Her love was conditional" Santana said. "Either you did things the way she wanted them done or she stopped talking to you. Before I came out, that had never happened to me. I'd learned to read her. I knew how she liked things. What to do to keep her happy. I modelled myself after her so she would love me."
Samantha nodded.
"Oh my god" Santana breathed.
Santana couldn't believe she was actually lying across the couch in a therapist's office. She looked like she could be in a cheezy movie, about to have an epiphany that would change her life. Her head was aching from all the crying she'd been doing, so she had her eyes closed. It had been at least twenty minutes since anyone last spoke. She didn't have the energy to continue the conversation, and Samantha seemed content to let her think in silence for once.
And she had been thinking. She had been thinking through high school, trying to figure out how much of who she was back then was entirely constructed by her abuela. But something wasn't adding up.
"So what changed?" She asked, her voice slightly hoarse.
"Huh?"
Santana opened her eyes, turning her head to look at Samantha.
"What changed? If I was doing everything I could to keep my grandmother's love, what changed that I stopped?"
Samantha smiled at her.
"Will you stop doing that?!" Santana snapped. "I don't need you to look at me like some child who doesn't understand something simple. Just fucking tell me."
"You tell me."
Santana rolled her eyes, sitting up.
"Okay. If you're going to continue being useless-"
"Santana you are the one who was there. You're the only one that knows what happened to make you feel that you could demand or expect more from your grandmother. Something that made you believe that you deserved to be loved for who you are, rather than changing yourself to be loved."
Santana clenched her jaw.
"Brittany?"
"Is that a question?"
Santana knew that Brittany had represented something different, for Santana. A hope that life didn't need to be so full of anger or fear. She'd seen how free Brittany was, so unconcerned about what people would think or say, so secure in who she was that it never even crossed her mind not to do or say the things she wanted to. Santana had wanted her to be more like her, that was for sure. She admired that about Brittany. But could she say that Brittany had changed how she saw love, or how she saw herself, so much that it made her realise she deserved more from her grandmother?
Maybe not at the time. At the time all Santana knew was that Brittany loved her in a way that no one in her life ever had. In a way that let her be who she was and was still always there. No matter how rude or mean she got, no matter how many times she lashed out and it would have been completely understandable to walk away. Brittany had shown up for Santana every time she needed her, and it allowed Santana to safely work through her emotions, until she was comfortable enough to talk about it. Comfortable enough to come out.
Her grandmother never talked about feelings. She said talking about it was being dramatic. Making your problems other people's problems for no reason. Family issues were to be kept within the family, and ones issues with themselves were to be kept to themselves. Doing otherwise, telling people about your problems was weakness, and her abuela had no time for weak people.
"The world is hard Santanita" she often said. "You must be hard too."
"Brittany." Santana said, surer this time. "Brittany let me be soft."
Brittany sometimes thought that people didn't really understand just how infatuated she was with Santana. She loved her, sure, everyone knew that, but she was also a little like some of her fans. When she was bored, she could sit alone, scrolling through the pictures she had of Santana on her phone, or stalking Santana's social media. It had always been like that. After all, she'd been fascinated by Santana from the moment she saw her. She had been so fascinated in fact, that she couldn't resist going to talk to her. She was a social person and usually went up to people she didn't know, it was true, but she hadn't gone to talk to Santana because she wanted to make a friend. She'd gone to talk to Santana because she needed to hear what her voice sounded like.
She remembered when she and Santana had just started talking to each other. It was about a month into school. They'd talked a couple of times, but only on what Brittany considered very boring topics, like boys and shopping. This was usually during lunch or before Cheerios practice, when all the girls on the team were together. Otherwise, Santana only ever seemed to talk to Quinn.
One of the Cheerios told Brittany that she and Quinn had come from the same middle school, and that was why they were already close friends. Quinn socialised though. She talked to all the Cheerios, and tried to hang out with the senior Cheerios whenever she could. Santana didn't, and that intrigued Brittany.
So finally, a month into the semester, Brittany made sure to sit next to Santana at the lunch table. Other than glancing at her, Santana didn't really acknowledge her presence. For the first few minutes she sat silently, just watching Santana. She seemed as bored with the conversation as Brittany usually was. It was the same conversation they usually had; 'Who is the hottest in their class? Who is the hottest on the football team? What a loser Michelle is! Oh, did you see what Kurt wore today?' It was so very boring that Brittany usually just zoned out, losing herself in a daydream. Today, she watched Santana.
She found herself laughing at how many times Santana rolled her eyes, or muttered something under her breath that she couldn't understand.
"Did you know Pocahontas is the only princess we hear speaking a different language?" she blurted out. The whole table went quiet, Santana slowly turning to look at her. She knew what she'd done. Her mum had told her she needed to stop doing that, and a lot of people at her old school called her weird for it. Sometimes when she wasn't paying attention, her mouth would say out loud whatever it was she was thinking. Her mum said people found it weird because they didn't have all the context of what she was saying. They didn't know her thought process. Her cheeks burned as she saw some of the looks she'd been used to seeing in middle school on the other girls faces.
After a long very awkward moment, the conversation picked up again. Santana didn't join back in though. She turned to face Brittany properly, her back to Quinn and the other girls.
"That was super funny, but totally random"
Brittany smiled. Santana hadn't called her weird. She liked that she said what she thought. Most people were too afraid of hurting people's feelings that they didn't speak their minds. Brittany always spoke her mind. She liked that Santana did too.
"You didn't mean to do that though did you?"
Brittany shook her head, still slightly embarrassed. Santana chuckled. "Did you see the look on their faces though?" she lowered her voice so Brittany had to lean closer to hear her. "I'd pay good money to see that again. The most interesting thing to happen since school started by far."
Brittany felt warmth spread over her. Pride?
"More interesting than Puck getting a mowhawk?"
Santana scoffed, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms.
"I'll admit it was funny on the first day. But do we really need to talk about it all week?"
"When Lord Tubbington got a haircut, my dad talked about it every time he saw him"
Santana was looking at her again, frowning.
"Lord…who?"
"Tubbington. He's my cat. When we got him I was obsessed with Paddington bear, and I used to call him Paddington, then one day my dad tried to wash him in the bathtub, and he really didn't like that, so I started calling him Lord Tubbington so he'd think he was the king of all tubs and wouldn't be so scared of them anymore."
Santana stared at her for a beat, and Brittany remembered being scared that she'd once again done something her mother had told her to stop doing, but then a smile had slowly tugged up the sides of Santana's mouth, and she was grinning. It was the first time Brittany had ever seen Santana grin. She thought she looked very pretty.
"Did it work?"
"No" Brittany said sadly. "He never goes anywhere near the bathroom. My dad says we should just pour water on him whenever we can to keep him clean."
"Don't cats clean themselves?" Brittany nodded knowingly. "So it's not that big a deal"
"It wouldn't be, but he's pretty….large, and can't really reach everywhere."
"You have a fat cat called Tubbington?" Santana laughed. "That's brilliant"
"Thanks" Brittany grinned.
"What are you guys talking about?" Quinn asked.
Brittany was fascinated by how fast Santana's face changed from relaxed and happy, to annoyed. She turned to scowl at Quinn, and Brittany almost wanted to stand up and walk to the other side of the table so she could still see her face.
"Something more interesting than you I bet."
"Something more interesting than who's going to be on the football team?"
"If you can believe it" Santana said sarcastically. Brittany had to smile.
"You know Finn's going to be on it don't you?" Monica or Lily or…Brittany couldn't really remember most of the Cheerios' names. They were all the same person to her. All except Quinn, who clearly wanted to stand out, and Santana, who Brittany was still trying to figure out. She seemed to hate the Cheerios, and complained endlessly about how much work it was, so Brittany didn't understand why she was even on the squad.
"And this matters because….?"
"Come on! He's totally into Quinn."
"Oh" Santana said, sitting up straighter and putting on a peppy façade. "Really? Oh my god! Britt did you hear that?" Brittany grinned at the use of the nickname. Santana dropped back into her seat, rolling her eyes. "You guys are pathetic. I would rather chase a fat cat around with water than talk about Quinn getting to be squashed by the giant manatee."
"We could use a water gun." Brittany laughed.
Only Kelly….Brittany was pretty sure her name was Kelly but spelled weirdly, laughed. Quinn looked annoyed, and the rest of the girls just looked confused.
Santana stood up, picking her tray. "By all means, please continue to gossip about Quinn's endless disgusting prospects, even though we all know she's too much of a prude to do anything about them."
Brittany watched her push back her chair and take a few steps before she turned back, jerking her head in the direction of the cafeteria door. "You coming?"
Brittany jumped up immediately, nearly knocking over her tray. "Where are we going?"
"To find some water guns"
After that, they started to hang out with each other a lot more. Brittany found herself anticipating her time with Santana like it was a big trip to Disneyland. She'd rush to get to the classes they shared together, even though she knew Santana almost always showed up late, just so that she could extend their time together by even a few minutes.
The first time Santana used the term 'best friend' was a few days after Santana's birthday. Brittany had been sitting in the gym with Quinn, waiting for the rest of their class to show up. She was sitting on the lowest level of the bleachers, watching the door. Quinn was standing in front of her, talking about how she was sure Finn was going to ask her out any day now. Brittany nodded, and offered up a weak 'Oh yeah' or 'Totally' occasionally, but her focus was on the door. She stood up as soon as she saw Santana. She was walking backwards, talking to Puck and a few other boys that Brittany did not yet know the names of.
"Britt?"
"Yeah…totally" Brittany said absentmindedly. She took a few tentative steps forward, but didn't go far. Santana wasn't the type of person you just walked up to. She wanted to make sure Santana wanted to see her before joining her. Finally, after finishing whatever she had been saying to the boys, Santana turned around. Brittany watched her eyes lazily run over the room, taking in who was there and subsequently where she would sit. Brittany secretly hoped she was looking to see if she was there. As she entertained that thought, Santana's eyes found hers. The cheek splitting grin Santana flashed her was enough confirmation for her.
Just as she began to move forward, Quinn caught her hand.
"Brittany, I was talking to you."
"Sorry…I thought you were finished. I'm just gonna go say hi to Santana real quick."
She gently pulled her hand from Quinn, smiled at her, and then bounced towards Santana.
"Hey" she said, stopping in front of her.
"Hey Britt"
There was a gentleness in the way Santana said her name that always made Brittany feel giddy. She was never that gentle, not even with herself. When she said her own name, she said it like she thought it meant something. Like her name carried some sort of weight that people ought to respect. When she said Quinn's name, she said it with snark. Like she thought Quinn's name was some kind of inside joke, or like it was something to make fun of.
When she said Brittany's name, she said it delicately, like Brittany was something special.
"I hope you don't think I'm going to go sit with Quinn"
Brittany turned back to look at Quinn, who was now sitting with some of the other cheerleaders in their class, watching them. The thought that Quinn looked a bit upset crossed her mind, but then Santana was taking her hand and leading her to the other side of the room, and it disappeared.
She followed Santana to the top of the bleachers at the end of the room and sat down next to her.
"Gym is such a fucking waste of an hour."
Brittany had never heard anyone curse as much as Santana did. She used curse words in almost every sentence, even when it wasn't really necessary. Brittany liked it though. Sometimes it made an ordinary sentence funnier than it would be. Like when she said 'you've got to be shitting me'. It always made Brittany laugh, cause she imagined someone taking a dump on Santana, and how pissed off she'd be.
"It's kind of like a free period" Brittany said shrugging. "I don't get why they call it gym though. When I go to the gym, it's nothing like this."
Santana turned away from judging her classmates to fix her with a look Brittany had been getting from her a lot since they became friends. It was a mix between confused and amused, like she didn't know if she was serious or joking. After a while she turned back to survey the room.
"You're not wrong" Brittany smiled. "They should change the name to an hour of watching sweaty out of shape losers attempting to play sports."
"Is that what we're supposed to be doing?" Brittany asked, looking out at the room as well. "I thought this class was about getting in shape."
"It's supposed to be, but Coach Tanaka is fatter and lazier than anyone in here. He'd rather just make us play a stupid sport so he can sit on his ass and eat chips."
"So wait…people don't get thrown out if they don't lose weight? Like in biggest loser? Does that mean I don't get an A if I have abs by the end of the year?"
Santana's eyes flicked down to her stomach, a smile spreading across her face. When her eyes returned to Brittany's she chuckled. "No Britt, but that is a totally genius idea."
Brittany's eyes went wide. She had never been called a genius. Never.
"Really?"
Santana laughed fully this time, pointing down at their classmates.
"Getting to watch one of those nerds getting kicked out every week because they're too fat?" Santana laughed harder. "That's quality entertainment. It would definitely make the idea of having to come here all year more bearable."
"Would you laugh at me?"
Santana turned to frown at her. "Why would I laugh at you?"
"For getting kicked out."
Santana burst out laughing. "Have you seen yourself?" Brittany looked down at herself.
"Sure. I see myself every day in the mirror."
"Right" Santana giggled. "So you know there's no way in hell you'd be getting kicked out. You and me, we're like the hottest bitches in this gym." She scoffed. "In this damn school."
Brittany grinned. It was easy for her to agree that Santana was the hottest person at their school, but she liked that Santana thought the same about her. She didn't often compare herself to other people, mostly because since kindergarten she'd always felt that she was a little different from everyone else, but as she looked at the other kids in the gym, she had to agree with Santana. Sure, there were some girls who were pretty, like Quinn. Quinn was very pretty. But Santana had said hot, and hot, to Brittany at least, meant sexy. It was more than just being attractive. It was being undeniably attractive. Alluring.
Santana was undeniably attractive. She strutted down the halls, swaying her hips and smirking like she held all the secrets of the universe. It was what made people follow her around when she wasn't even nice to them.
In later years, Brittany began to describe Santana as aggressively sexy. The in your face kind of sexy that forced you to look at her and feel something. The in your pants kind of something.
"I'd even record the whole thing and watch it over with mi abuela."
Brittany cocked her head.
"Mi abuela? Is that your cat?"
Santana laughed. "No. That's how you say my grandmother in Spanish."
"You speak Spanish?" Brittany asked in awe. Santana laughed again, though she was giving her that kind of confused, kind of amused look again.
"Yeah."
"That's super cool. You could totally help me with mine. I don't really understand Mr Schue when he's teaching."
Santana crossed her leg over the other, rolling her eyes.
"That's cause Mr Schue is not speaking Spanish."
"Really? Oh no! That means I've been taking the wrong class for months." She was close to tears, feeling embarrassed by how stupid she must look.
"What?" Santana asked, placing a hand on Brittany's shoulder. "Brittany….hey. No, you have been going to the right class. Mr Schue is the Spanish teacher."
Brittany blinked completely confused.
"But you said-"
"I just meant that he's a horrible Spanish teacher. I don't think he even really knows Spanish."
"Oh"
They sat in silence for a few minutes as Brittany tried to calm down. When their gym teacher walked in and blew the whistle, they stood up and began descending the steps. At the bottom, Santana bumped her hip with Brittany's.
"Yes."
"Huh?"
"I'll help you with your Spanish"
Brittany smiled wide, ecstatic that she was now going to be able to spend more time with Santana outside of school.
"Really?"
"Totally. It's what best friends do right?"
She didn't think any amount of time spent with Santana would ever be enough. Santana was now, in just three months, Brittany's favourite person.
When Santana got home from Samantha's office, Brittany wasn't home yet. As such, since she'd gone to work with the twins today, the house was empty. Santana tried to keep busy. She washed the dishes in the sink left over from breakfast, and put a load of laundry in the washer, but there wasn't much to do after that. Eventually she found herself sitting in her room, bored and trying not to think. She'd done enough thinking for the week.
"Oh" she said, quickly getting up and heading into their closet. In the corner was a red wooden box that Santana hadn't thought about in what felt like a decade. She carefully took it out and walked it back to the bed, where she sat cross legged and opened it.
It was almost full, which shocked her. She couldn't remember if it had been full the last time she'd opened it, which must have been in high school, or if Brittany had been adding to it all these years. The latter thought made her heart swell.
One by one she took out letters, some long some short, sticky notes with cute drawings or short messages like 'I love you' written on them, pages torn from books that she and Brittany had scribbled each other's names on, with love hearts all over them, pictures they'd stashed away and the friendship bracelets they wore before Brittany had bought Santana the charm bracelet. She smiled down at each item, feeling tears pooling in her eyes.
Brittany had given the kind of love that Santana thought was fake. The kind that made you giddy inside, and do crazy things that you never thought you would. Inside this box was everything Brittany had done to fix Santana. To heal her. Every note or letter from Brittany was one step closer to Santana getting to who she was during senior year. Years of work, heartache, fights, tears, but Britany had gotten her there. She hadn't given up, hadn't pushed her too hard, hadn't gotten irritated. She'd just been the voice of encouragement, there every step of the way to remind her that she was loved.
As she read the letters, Santana found that she actually remembered exchanging them. She remembered the days and what had led to the letter, or what class they were in when Brittany had taken over her book and drawn a cat in the corner of it, which she then tore off and stuck in her pocket.
She remembered the way Brittany's eyes had shone with happiness the first time Santana had slipped a sticky note in her locker with the pun 'Paw-don me, but are you fur real?!' which had started a cat pun war between them that Brittany had of course won. Santana couldn't remember ever laughing so hard before, and every day she'd opened her locker with a sense of excitement, which puzzled her, because it was all over a damn sticky note. With a bad joke no less. Yet it was the kind of foolish happiness she had never gotten to experience before.
Then she saw a picture of her and Brittany in the motocross gear that they had to wear when going out to ride. The one and only time Brittany had taken her to her old motocross track and convinced Santana to ride. Santana actually laughed out loud as she remembered that day. She'd been terrified to get on the thing, because though she loved Brittany, she wasn't sure she trusted her to handle her on a machine as dangerous as a motorbike, with no adult present. She'd screamed when Brittany had actually started moving, clutching Brittany's waist painfully. Brittany had laughed at her.
It was a solid ten minutes before Santana calmed down enough to semi-enjoy the experience, but then it had been ruined by another rider zooming past them, splattering both of them and the bike in what had felt like an avalanche of mud. Santana had been furious as they returned their bikes, but the old man and woman that ran the place had laughed, along with Brittany, and forced them to take a picture. Looking down at it Santana could still see the anger on her pouting face. Yet there was a hint of a smile behind her features, like she couldn't bring herself to really be mad at Brittany. And Brittany looked like it was the best day of her life, though Santana often thought that about Brittany in pictures together. Maybe it was because Brittany allowed herself to feel that happy all the time, where Santana was reserved for most of it.
Taking out the friendship bracelets, Santana wondered what 13 year old her would think about where she had ended up. Brittany had given it to her because she was so sure they would be friends forever, now Santana had a ring that said the same thing. She'd been so embarrassed by the bracelet back then. She'd hidden it from all of her friends, and tried as much as possible not to wear it, because she knew what they would say. They'd laugh, call her childish and ask her if she was still in the fourth grade, which she knew would piss her off and force her to deny it. Probably calling them stupid in the process. Santana cringed even now at the thought of how hurt Brittany would have been if she'd done that. So 13 year old her had refused to let a single soul, except Brittany, know about the bracelets. She'd told Brittany it would be even more special if it was their little secret. Brittany had accepted it without question, even going so far as hiding her own. When she'd given Santana the charm bracelet, Santana had taken the opportunity to get rid of the ones Brittany had made, but Brittany had been sad to see them go. So Santana had taken a wooden box she found lying around in her house and put the bracelets inside.
"This is where special things go Britt." She'd told her. "Things more special than everything else that they can't just be put anywhere."
And thus, their box of things was born. Brittany had taken it home and returned it the next day painted red, because it was Santana's favourite colour. They'd been putting things in there all through high school, and when it came time to go to university, Santana had left it with Brittany.
It had come as a shock to her when Brittany unpacked it from a box when she was moving into their apartment in New York. She'd assumed Brittany threw it out when they broke up.
It was the perfect roadmap of their relationship, from friendship to true love, and Santana was sure that aside from her children, this box was what she would run back into the house to save if there was a fire.
She carefully put everything back, somehow managing to keep her tears in, and closed the box.
Looking at what they'd thought were the most important things as teenagers had put her conversation with Samantha into perspective. She decided in that moment to keep adding to the box, so that another ten years from now she could open it again and see how her relationship with Brittany had grown. So that she could marvel at how far they had come, and so she could remember all of the love she has in her life.
She had been through a lot as a child. She'd been raised to be tough and she'd learned to deal with things on her own, which were not inherently bad, but now she had sons, who she had to raise better than she was. That was why she was going to keep seeing Samantha. So that she could make sure she wasn't unintentionally teaching her kids to be like her. So that like Brittany was for her, she could be a source of happiness and freedom for them.
"Honey I'm home!" She heard Brittany calling from downstairs, followed by the yelling of both babies. She smiled and stood from the bed, making her way to her family.
A/N: The end!
This story was a lot of fun to write, so thank you all for reading. Santana has a long way to go, but I think ending with a feeling of hope is the way to go. If there's any interest in the second story, let me know. I have a few chapters ready but I don't know if anyone cares, or if you're happy to let the story end there. Part 2 would take place a few years in the future...Idk let me know.
That's it for now. Thank you all! D