Author's Note: Thank you, thank you all for your awesomeness! I'm glad you're enjoying the alien backstory, and all that jazz. Hope this doesn't feel filler-y, because I assure you, it's all very important! Enjoy!


All through that first night, Brittany didn't sleep, she couldn't sleep. This deep, inner protective part of herself (probably Caderyna, she thought, still having trouble reconciling that they were one and the same) needed to watch Santana, needed to make sure she was okay. While the stone glowed bright on her neck, the tortured girl slept fitfully, shifting between holding Brittany so close they'd nearly become one being, and rolling away violently, curling into a self-preseved little ball. Alternating between crying out brokenly in her nightmares, and having a soft, contented smile on her face. Brittany felt powerless, she knew her girlfriend, her love, her soulbonded mate needed time to process, she needed time to process herself, but it was hard, seeing the small human move so feverishly. It ached Brittany inside, it ached her to feel Santana's pain, it ached her for her own, for the deep, unshakable agony of the tragedy of Reyneva and Caderyna. So she did all she could to make Santana feel safe, to not feel as if their very existence hung in the balance, simply because their great love had once resulted in death, in the fall of an entire kingdom. It was a different life, a different world, a different story, she wanted to tell Santana, but she couldn't, Santana would hear none of it, even in sleep, so instead, Brittany just held her, kissed her, loved her as hard as she could, and hoped that it was enough to get them through.

When the first streaks of pink painted the morning sky, Brittany knew she had to go. She knew Santana's alarm would go off soon, knew that Maribel Lopez would rap on the door soon after, making sure she didn't shut it off, knew that her own mother would be expecting her with Sam at the breakfast table, and knew that she really, really needed to talk to her brother (and Quinn too) about what had transpired the previous day. Slowly, carefully, Brittany untwined herself from the vice grip of Santana's arms, settling her back on the pile of pillows beneath. She couldn't help but stare at her before climbing from bed, the dark hair across her face and skin, warm from sleep, and glowing in yellow light, painting her with the greatest beauty. First bringing Santana's hand to her lips, she kissed there, promising to protect her, before leaning over Santana's drawn mouth, brushing away the dark shock of hair that fell across her face, and burning an even greater promise.

"I love you." She whispered into the kiss. "I love you, Santana Lopez."

Brittany stood from the bed, tears she couldn't fully comprehend running down her face, and she climbed out the window. What she didn't see was Santana, eyes breaking open, tears matching, tears of confusion, of frustration, of dread.

"I love you too, Brittany." She spoke to the empty room. "More than anything."


Brittany made it home in record time, sprinting most of the way, because she had left far later than she should have. When she climbed in her window, she heard Sam already awake, doing push-ups in his room, she assumed. She wanted a shower, she wanted to wash the day and night off of her, wanted to start over, hopefully with some kind of grasp on what was going on. Unfortunately, the shower did little to change anything, and while she sat towel drying her wet hair, feeling so exhausted from the lack of sleep, she heard the news on downstairs, and Sam talking to their mother, smelled bacon cooking in the kitchen. It was hard to believe that everything was still happening as usual, that earth still turned the way it was supposed to, after hearing the news that rocked the world of those who meant the most to her.

"Brittany, sweetheart! Time for breakfast!" Her mother called. "If you don't hurry, Sammy may not save you any pancakes!"

Pancakes. Food. Coffee. Brittany could handle that, she thought, and shaking the images of Santana's pained face, and images, scarier still, of silver blood and a swollen, lifeless corpse, she made her way down the stairs to the table. While she ate, mistakenly dumping more hot sauce than ever on her food, and causing Evan Pierce to joke, as always, that he ought to buy stock in it, Brittany avoided looking at Sam. The two of them simply answered the questions their parents had about if they'd made any kind of decisions about whether or not they'd be applying to college, about the camping trip, about maybe having a family weekend at the end of the month. They both responded appropriately, but Brittany noticed that her brother's laugh sounded as hollow as hers felt, and clearing their plates, they nearly ran out the door.

"How are you?" Sam asked cautiously, the instant Brittany closed the passenger side door of the car.

"I have no idea. What about you?"

"Same. How is she?"

"Not good. Not good at all." Brittany confessed, voice cracking. Neither of them spoke for several minutes, not until they passed the diner, saw Santana, shoulders slumped, getting into Mercedes' car. Brittany's heart quickened, and their eyes met, sharing a small, tentative smile. "For us, it's really beyond messed up, the reason we came here, my pregnant queen dead, and our planet in ruins. But for her...she's supposed to be human, Sam. She is human, except not really. Not anymore, now that she knows this, knows me."

"It's not your fault, Britt."

"But isn't it? Both times, as me, and as Caderyna, I knew I should stay away from her. And both times I didn't. She died, Sam. She was pregnant and happy, we were having a baby, and then she was murdered, and now, who knows what kind of danger she's in. Hummel isn't the only one hunting us, and you know it."

"Yeah. I know. But were you even listening to the story? I don't really get this whole soulbonding thing, and even I got from that story that neither of you ever had a damn choice in the matter."

"Well maybe that's the worst part. Maybe that's the point of all those depressing stories they make us read in school. The greatest loves end in the greatest tragedy, or something. I didn't save Santana's life in the diner, just so she could die another way."

"Why do I get the feeling that you're about to do something really stupid?"

"I don't know what I'm going to do, Sam." Brittany shook her head violently. "I just don't know."

"Okay. Look, you're talking about old books. You know what one stuck out most to me? The story of Oeidipus. The king sent him to be killed because of that prophesy about him killing his father and sleeping with his mother. Turns out the guy doesn't kill him, he gets adopted. Good old Eddie finds out about it, thinks it's his adoptive parents he's destined to do that to, he runs away. Bam. Kills runs into his biological father, kills him, marries his widow. By running from what he was scared of, he made it happen. You can't fight destiny, Britt. You were obviously meant to be with Santana. Her soul found yours, on another planet, years and years later. If you're fated to die, you're going to. Leaving her, if that's what you're thinking, won't change that."

"Pretty funny that we've played sort of dumb in school all these years to stay under the radar, and not be expected to leave Roswell, and here we are, using literature as metaphors for our own life." Brittany rolled her eyes, a little bitter. "I hope that story isn't supposed to make me feel better though."

"No. It's not. It isn't a pep talk, it's a reality check. You can't cheat your fate, even those crappy Final Destination movies know that. All we can do now is fight like hell to make sure none of us die. And also, maybe tell Santana not to hang out at a stream alone and vulnerable."

"It will never not be too soon to joke about that." Brittany glared at Sam. "I'm just afraid. I'm really, really afraid."

"I know." Sam told her softly, patting her forearm. "So am I. But we won't let our guard down. We'll prepare for whatever comes. But you love her, don't let her go because you think it'll protect her."

"Okay." She nodded, looking out the window as they pulled up in front of the school. Brittany saw Quinn, standing outside the door, playing with the straps of her backpack, and she inhaled sharply. "So do you think her hating me is going to get better or worse, now that she knows why?"

"She's Quinn. She's always unreadable. But for what it's worth, I think what happened back then...on Uecridis, was probably less your fault than anyone's. Holly didn't say it, but you, Caderyna, probably trusted your-slash-her brother to keep the queen safe while she, you, whatever, were gone..."

"It's done, Sam." Brittany shrugged, though she felt pretty hypocritical, considering her own guilt. "We're all here now, whatever happened, we can't change it, we just have to try not to let it happen again. Let's just go to school right now, and I guess deal with everything else later."

Shouldering her backpack, Brittany got out of the car, approaching Quinn, with Sam not far behind. There were no words exchanged, they just simply fell into step, keeping their usual routine. When Brittany stopped at her locker, she felt Santana's presence nearby, and she blinked her eyes rapidly, trying to get her overflow of emotions under control. Slowly, she turned around, heart throbbing, as she took in her girlfriend, sunglasses covering swollen eyes, hair pulled back in a messy bun, shoulders slumped, and her overall appearance sort of disheveled. Mercedes looked to Brittany, a silent, desperate plea for her to do something. But Brittany knew she couldn't, knew that even if she were to cross the hallway, to take Santana into her arms, promise her it would be okay, kiss her lips, run her thumbs beneath her eyes and heal the dark circles she knew had formed there during the fitful night of sleep, it wouldn't do anything. Actions, words, neither would help. The only thing that Santana needed was time, Brittany knew it, instinctively, as she watched her lover turn slowly, give her a tentative, watery smile. And time she would give her. Brittany would give her the world, the universe, really, if she asked for it, so time, that silent, simple request, Brittany could give her.

Santana liked control, craved control, she always had. It had been something she'd inherited from her father, she'd always assumed (though now knowing the circumstances of her very existence, she wasn't sure what she could attribute to her human family, and what came from a life past), and he was the one she'd always been forced to acquiesce that carefully held control to. But suddenly, the morning after everything changed, she found herself lacking it, in every aspect of her life. Fate. Destiny. Soulmates. Those words. The words that were used to speak of the greatest of loves, they were terrifying to her. It made her feel like a pawn in the great scheme of the universe, and even though she loved Brittany, she didn't know how to respond to it all, because it wasn't her choice, it wasn't either of their choices. Slowly, she cast her eyes up to meet Brittany's, though her own were hidden behind her dark glasses, and she couldn't help but melt at the sight. That swimming concern, that warm affection, that deep blue love, it suddenly felt all too real, and oh, so terrifying. As the yellow stone burned against her chest, reminding her of all they shared, of all they lost, Santana pulled her lip between her teeth, and she shut her eyes, needing a minute.

"Are you ready to go?" Mercedes asked, the concern in her best friend's voice irritating Santana. She wanted to be left alone, she wanted to think. She wanted to run away and hide forever. She wanted to be wrapped up in Brittany's arms and covered in kisses. She was so confused, so conflicted, and she swallowed the primal scream that attempted to escape her throat.

"Yeah. Yeah I am." She managed, looking one last time to Brittany's face before turning herself away and following Mercedes to Economics.


Santana managed to make it through the school day, though that scream never seemed far off. Her psyche was contorted with conflicting emotions. The desire to run away to keep Brittany safe, after nightmares of her alien's death in a multitude of violent, violent ways still plagued her conscious mind. The desire to run away and fight the loss of control that learning of her past life pressed upon her. To find Brittany, to beg her, no matter what, to never let her go. After last period, rather than wait for Mercedes, rather than seek out Brittany, she kept on her gym clothes, she turned off her phone, ignoring the latest message from her girlfriend (let me know if you want me to come over tonight, I'm here), and she went for a run. She ignored the burning pain that persisted in her ribs, the pain that grew with each block she ran, and more importantly, she ignored all of the thoughts that swam in her head, ignored past life aliens, wakeful nightmares of death, of being stabbed in a swollen, silvery stomach (she was sure that's how Reyneva had died, she could feel a strange, phantom pain there on her own body), of black aliens eyes, of blue eyes and deep love that she wanted nothing more than to drown in. She ran, looping through the streets of Roswell, until she made her way through the back door of the diner, close to an hour later.

"'¡Mija! Where have you been? Your father has been looking all over for you, and- were you running? You are not supposed to be exercising! Your ribs!" Santana's mother grabbed her, eyes wide with concern.

"I'm fine, Ma." She grumbled.

"Don't tell me you're fine! You could hurt yourself worse! Why can't you just listen to what the doctor said?" Hands were all over Santana's body, and she immediately flinched away, curling into herself.

"Don't touch me. I said that I'm fine." Santana snapped, unable to control her boiling anger. "I'm seventeen, I can make my own damn decisions about my body."

"Dicúlpame! Don't you dare speak to your mother like that!" Javier Lopez's booming voice came through the door. "Apologize."

"Sorry." It was more of a grunt than a word, and the elder Lopezes exchanged a glance.

"You are not five years old, I won't tell you to say it like you mean it, you should know better." He reprimanded, and Santana didn't even bother trying to bring herself to care. "We've been waiting for you to come home. I have very, very good news."

"What? The International Olive Conference in Pueblo?"

"No, but thank you for the sarcasm. The Dean of Admissions at UNM finally returned my call today, I've got you an in person interview there a week from tomorrow. Not that you'll need a leg up into the accelerated program with your grades, and your activities. But still, it can never hurt."

"Great."

"Santana. What has gotten into you today?" Javier pressed. "This is the dream, this is what we've been working for your whole life."

"No, Papí." Santana burst out, rage rising in her chest, her need to gain an upper hand over something clawing it's way to the surface. "It's your dream. You're the one who wants me to go to UNM, you're the one who wants me to come back and spend the rest of my life running this diner. You don't even know what I want!"

"We have been talking about this for years. What are you trying to say? You've never once said anything before."

"Because would you have listened if I had? I'm a Lopez, you-" She pointed violently to his chest, her face burning. "Have been telling me that since before I could even talk about to you. It's what Lopezes do. Tell me I'm wrong."

"You watch your tone, young lady."

"All I ever do is watch my tone. Watch my manners. Watch what I show the world. You own a crappy themed diner in this one horse town, you're not the goddamned President of the United States!"

"Santana." Maribel hissed. "Where is all this coming from?"

"Oh, Mamí, you know it's true." She narrowed her eyes at her mother, feeling this intense surge of hatred that the woman had never defended her, never encouraged her to create her own dreams, simply stood by while her father pushed his desires for her future upon her. "I'm done. I'm sick of it. I don't want your UNM interview, I want to decide what I want to do, because I want to do it. I am not a puppet."

"I think it's time you go upstairs." Javier's voice was low, commanding, and Santana rocked up on her tiptoes, almost challenging. "Now. When you're ready to speak with respect, and behave rationally, then you can come to see me."

"Oh, right, I forgot, it's irrational when people don't do what you say. Fine. I'm going. But if you think I'm going to miraculously come back down and go back to pretending, like I've spent seventeen years doing, then you are wrong!"

"Stop acting like a spoiled, indignant child, Santana Marie. Just go." He hissed.

Throat choked with angry tears, Santana whipped her head around, keeping her spine stiff as she made her way up the stairs. She'd gotten about halfway there when she froze suddenly, hearing what was being said in the hushed tones below her, words that made her blood run cold.

"I'm concerned, Javier. She's not been herself for weeks." Maribel murmured. "What if-?"

"Don't say it, amor. I know the boy came to us in concern. She may be hot tempered and rash suddenly, but drugs? I won't believe that. She's too smart."

"I don't know. This just came out of nowhere, and if this had to do with a girl, we would know, wouldn't we?"

Unable to listen to anymore, Santana stomped the rest of the way up to her room. When she slammed behind the door behind herself, she collapsed against it, heavy sobs overtaking her body. She didn't know what to do with herself, she was absolute mess, and she hated being that way. She wanted Brittany, she wanted to be left alone, and because she couldn't decide, she simply wrapped her fingers around the stone, the physical manifestation of their two souls, and she continued to cry, until she was sure there were no tears left to ever cry again. Then, fortified by a second burst of anger, she fixed her face and climbed out her window, knowing exactly what she needed to do.


Over at the Pierce's house, the three blondes sat in Brittany's bedroom. Distracted by her phone, and the lack of a response from Santana, Brittany sprawled out on her stomach across her bed, twisting her hair as sort of a nervous tick. So much, she wanted to run to her girlfriend, especially as she felt a strange fury pulse inside of her, but she wouldn't. She'd give her the time to digest it all, to handle her emotions on her own, much as Brittany had tried to do as she lied awake in Santana's bed the previous night. Still though, it hurt, and it concerned her deeply, and looking again at the phone in her hands, she released a deep sigh.

"Brittany, are you listening?" Quinn's voice snapped her back to attention, and she tossed her phone over on the nightstand, needing it away from her.

"Yeah. Definitely."

"O-kay." She rolled her eyes, knowing that Brittany most definitely wasn't. "Look, I get that you're worried about Santana, but I am worried about our existence as a whole. Why is Holly entirely unconcerned about your people finding us?"

"Can you maybe not?" Sam narrowed his eyes at Quinn. "Blood or not, Caderyna was the queen of the planet we left. The moment she was joined with Reyneva, the two of us became your people."

"Okay, whatever, you knew what I meant."

"No, actually, I don't know what you mean at all. I don't know where you stand, because all you've been talking about for the past hour is death, murder, and interplanetary wars. When Holly sees us again, she'll tell us what we should be concerned about, but until then, we need to look at Hummel as our biggest threat. I saw him in school this afternoon, talking to the crazy fake nurse lady, saying he's working on a new drug prevention program. He's up to something, and that should be where most of our focus is right now."

"I think Sam's right." Brittany offered.

"Of course you do."

"Quinn." Brittany looked at her, pleading. "This isn't about sides, or fighting, or anything. I just think that you're deflecting, when maybe we really should be talking about how we feel about this."

"How we feel?" Quinn snorted bitterly. "Alright, Dr. Phillis, why don't you go ahead and start. How do you feel about the fact that your wife, or your mate, or whatever they call it, got murdered by your family while she was pregnant with your baby? How do you feel that while you were supposed to be queen, the entire planet fell to it's enemies, and we had to give up the throne and sneak away? How do you feel about-"

"Stop it!" Sam screamed, watching as his sister twisted in discomfort. "Quinn, that's enough."

"Is it?" She clamped her eyes shut, and both Sam and Brittany realized that she was crying, scary, silent, tearless sobs. "She's the one who wanted to talk about it! You want to know how I feel? I feel like I've been waiting my whole damn life here to feel like I'm connected to someone, and now I find out that not only did my sister choose you over me, so did my mother. And I shouldn't even be mad, because Reyneva didn't have a choice, she was meant to be with you. And it wasn't even your fault she died, so I get why Polerma picked you. But I'm furious, and devastated. At you, at Sam, at me, at Holly Holliday, and even at Santana. Even though we found her soul again, my sister was slaughtered, nothing changes that. So that's how I fucking feel, Brittany, okay?"


It was just at the end of Cheerios practice, when Santana arrived back at school. It had taken her longer than normal, because even with rage distracting her from the ache in her side, she'd gone easy, forgoing another run in favor of a brisk (and filled with stomps and huffs) walk. There, in the middle of the football field, were a few straggling cheerleaders and her personally appointed second-in-command, the one who's throat she was ready to rip out.

"Hummel!" She seethed, marching straight up so she was in his face. "You and me, let's go, right now."

"What?" His eyes grew comically wide, and his cherubic cheeks turned pink.

"You heard me, it's time we have a real serious conversation, you little conniving snake." Santana turned to the four girls who remained, mouths agape. "Go! Scatter! Find a life!"

"I'm sorry, Santana, but I have no idea what it is you're talking about."

"Bullshit!" She shrieked, holding herself back from lunging at him. "I know it was you! You told my parents that I was doing drugs. Who the fuck are you, and who gave you the right to play around with my life?"

"I-"

"Save it! What's your motive here, Lady Hummel? Fuck up my life and get the top spot on the squad? You want it? Take it! If you think I actually care about something as shitty and insignificant as that, then you're wrong! I told you at the competition that I wasn't on drugs, but you think that's an invitation to go to my parents? Who are you?"

"I am someone who cares about you!" Kurt screamed back at her, not backing down. "Don't you understand the movies my dad used to make me watch about drugs? I don't want to see anything bad happen to you!"

"I am not on drugs!" Santana roared, her voice cracking, and angry tears falling from her eyes. "What don't you understand about that? You don't even know me! We go to school together, we're on the same team, we're both gay, whatever, this doesn't mean we're best friends and that you can even remotely begin to understand my life!"

"Then what is this? If you're anything, Santana, it's constantly in control of your emotions. But lately? You're a mess! If it's not drugs, what are you hiding?" He questioned, and before he could even process what was about to happen, Santana's eyes darkened, and she hauled off and smacked him right across the face.

"Lopez!" A sharp voice shrieked out. "What the hell do you think you're doing? Have you gone absolutely cray-cray?"

"Roz, he-"

"Hit you? Because that's about the only damn excuse I'll take for this."

"No, he-"

"Then you keep your goddamn hands off of him! Why are you even here? You got a doctor's note saying you can be at my practice?"

"No, I-"

"Then get off my field!"

"You've gotta be kidding me right now." She seethed, backing down from where Kurt stood, holding his cheek and staring at her. "Fine. Whatever. Forget this, forget all of you. I don't need this in my life right now."

"Check that attitude of yours, Salsa Caliente, or you're gonna find yourself off of my squad for good."

"Oh!" A tart laugh escaped Santana's lips. "What a punishment! Kick me off the team where Lady Face tells my parents I'm on drugs, and you don't even care enough to listen to me. Whatever, I'm done, I quit!"

"Lopez!" Roz screamed after her, as Santana turned away violently, crossing her arms over her chest, trying to keep herself from having a breakdown. "You can't just quit like that!"

"I can do whatever I want!" She screamed back, storming off the field.

Santana was eternally grateful that by the time she made it to the locker room, everyone else had gone home. She felt like her skin was crawling, and repeatedly, as she stomped back there, she kept checking her arms, realizing that she wouldn't be surprised in the slightest, had strange alien bugs taken up residence in her flesh. She needed to go, she needed to get out of Roswell, to get away from everything, for just a little while, and sinking down onto the bench, cheeks streaked with tears, she dug her phone out of the pocket of her sweatpants.

"Aunt Sara." Santana choked out, the instant she heard the tell-tale click of the phone being picked up. "I really, really need you to come get me."


Neither Brittany, nor Sam, were stunned by Quinn's confession. They hadn't been exactly sure when it would happen, but both knew that everyone had a breaking point, and the circumstances of their existence on Earth seemed to be that point for all three of the women who had once been on Uecridis. For Sam, the least impacted by the news, though he was, truthfully, more than a little shaken over learning that he'd been the one who'd gone to avenge the queen's death, the only one of the four of them who'd committed murder, he felt that he needed to be strong, needed to prevent his sister (as he had earlier, in the car) and Quinn from losing it. So, when she raged, he slowly approached her, laying a tentative hand on her shoulder, a hand he was shocked to find was not immediately pushed away.

"I think…" He started, and watched Quinn give a small nod, allowing him to continue. "I think that once we get to know Holly better, we'll have more answers, and maybe everything will all make a little more sense."

"I'm pretty sure none of it will ever make sense." The dejection in Brittany's voice was thick, and she reached over for her phone again, sighing audibly. "I'm worried about her. I'm trying to give her space, but she is so, so angry, that I swear, it's burning me from the inside out."

"Do you want me to call Mercedes?" Sam suggested, and Brittany just shrugged.

"It all sounds so dumb and clingy. But I can't help it, it's actually unbearable to be apart from her when she's in so much pain, and to not know exactly why."

"I'm going to make the call. She probably knows more than us right now."

"Thank you, Sam." Brittany looked down, sucking in a breath.

"Sam. I was just about to call you." Mercedes revealed in a loud whisper, and Brittany strained to hear through the phone. "Shit has just completely hit the fan over here with the Lopezes."

"What do you mean? Hold up, I'm putting you on speaker, okay?"

"Yeah, please. I need to talk to Brittany."

"What happened?" Brittany felt that throb in her chest grow, and she thought like she might be sick right then and there.

"Santana came home from school and flipped on her parents. From what I got, she told her father he was controlling, and told him she wasn't going to some interview at UNM. Then she snuck out, went back to school, and slapped Kurt Hummel in the face and quit the Cheerios. Her parents are losing their minds. They think she's on drugs, her mom has been crying in the bathroom at the diner for the past hour."

"Mercedes. Is she okay?"

"No, Brittany, she's really not. I've never seen her like this. She called Aunt Sara to drive all the way here and pick her up at school, and when they got back here to pick up her clothes so she could spend the night, Santana was crying, Sara and Mr. Lopez were fighting, and it was a really big mess."

"She went to Sara's?"

"Yeah. And I think that you should go there."

"She's been avoiding my messages all day. She's dealing with a lot, and she obviously wants space."

"Look, Brittany, I know you love her, and you two are cosmic soulmates, or whatever, but I have known her for my entire life. She pushes back when she gets scared, and right now, she's out of her mind. She loves you so much, I know that she does, and she accepted everything else really easy, but this past life thing was a breaking point for her, okay? After today, she needs you."

"Okay." Brittany didn't hesitate, trying to formulate a plan in her head about how she was going to get to Ruidoso without her parents wondering where the car had gone.

"My parents went to my little brother's Little League game in Phoenix, they're gone until tomorrow night." Mercedes told her, as if she could read her mind. "You can come pick my car up here, just don't crash it."

"Thank you, Mercedes."

"Don't worry about it, alien alliance, right? Just help her, please."

"Time out." Quinn interrupted, scowl back in place. "Are we just going to pretend that your girlfriend didn't slap the sheriff's son? That's the exact opposite of laying low. Does she want to get us killed?"

"I'm already on that, Quinn. I know she's an idiot for slapping Kurt, of all people, but apparently he told her parents that he thinks she's on drugs."

"It's what Hummel is feeding him. He tried talking to her about it after she got hurt at the cheerleading competition." Brittany explained. "I think he's actually concerned about her."

"Well great for him, he's concerned. Maybe we should just go right on over and tell him the truth."

"Quinn, stop being a bitch." Sam snapped. "You know that's not what she means."

"Guys, I'm on it. The less we make of it, the better. She had a violent reaction, which isn't really all that out of character for her. What would you do if someone told you parents something like that?"

"If Judy actually gave a shit, I would still lay low, because it's the only way we can survive. Brittany, you need to control her."

"I'm her girlfriend, not her warden, Quinn. I'll talk to her, but judging by the fact that I feel like I'm going to choke on all of her emotions right now, she already knows that she shouldn't have done it."

"She's one of us. She needs to learn-"

"I know." Brittany cut her off with a harsh click of her tongue. Because she did know, of course she knew, and Santana knew too, when she was thinking rationally, but the problem was, Santana wasn't, and Brittany needed to get herself ready to go, to protect her, to make promises to her, to love her even harder, while everything was new and scary. "I'll handle it."


They were halfway between Roswell and Ruidoso, and Santana still hadn't said a word to Sara. She was mostly curled up into herself in the front passenger seat, knees to her chest, staring out the window at the vast, empty desert. Her entire body ached with regret, not for telling her father that she wasn't going to UNM, not for quitting the Cheerios, not even, really, for slapping Kurt, but for effectively altering pretty significant parts of her human life in a matter of hours. She shouldn't be this reactionary, she knew that, but she was just…having a hard time, or something significantly less understated than that. Digging her phone out of her pocket, Santana looked at it, read again, the messages from Brittany. Though she'd yet to reply, she kept looking at them, really wanting to get herself together enough that she could actually send a text message to her girlfriend, her girlfriend who she loved beyond anything, her girlfriend, who she'd found, after being separated by millions of miles and an entire solar system.

"So, sugar baby, are you doing to tell me what's going on?" Sara asked softly, seeking out her niece's hand to squeeze.

"You mean you didn't get the gist of it from Papí's screaming tirade about my ungrateful behavior, and how you better give me a drug test when we get to your house?"

"You know better than anyone that I mostly tune your father out, and I know that you're not on drugs. So what's happening?"

"Aunt Sara, do you believe in soulmates?" Santana unfurled her legs, and turned a little so that she was facing her aunt.

"Ah, so this is about Brittany?"

"Yes. No. I don't know. There's just a lot going on."

"Okay." Sara was cautious with Santana, knowing that if she pushed her, she'd never get to the bottom of what was going on. "But yes, I believe in soulmates."

"It doesn't freak you out?"

"No, why would it?"

"You don't feel like that whole universe pushing you together is weird?"

"Sometimes you say things, and I'm reminded that you actually are my brother's daughter." Sara laughed a little bit to herself. "No, it doesn't freak me out. I think that if you meet your soulmate, even if the universe wasn't drawing you together, you'd still want to be with them."

"Hmm."

"Santana. First love is really scary, but it can also be really beautiful. Did something happen between the two of you that has you so upset?"

"I love her." Santana whispered, feeling strange to say it aloud like that to someone but Brittany for the first time, even though Sara had called it a week prior. "I'm so in love with her, and it all happened so fast, and it's terrifying."

"And she…?"

"She loves me too." She choked on a sob, thinking of unanswered texts and dead aliens and the yellow stone that seems to be pulsing below her shirt. "I think she's always loved me."

"This is a good thing, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it is. But today I'm freaking out, and being a total psycho, and I haven't answered her messages all day because I needed space to think."

"Emotional intimacy is harder than physical intimacy, and if you have both…" Sara trailed off, and Santana's cheeks flamed hot, giving herself away. Sara wouldn't pry though, Santana knew, she was just making a point. "A lot has happened since I saw you last week."

"It did." Santana laughed through tears. "I'm sorry I made you drive all the way to Roswell to get me. But I'm still not all that sorry I told Papí I wasn't going to his dumb college. I think he thinks I'm going to take it back."

"You shouldn't be sorry for either. I'm always here to for you."

"I know. Thanks, Aunt Sara."


Feeling slightly better after her talk with Sara, even though she couldn't really talk about what had truly set her off, Santana went up, immediately upon arriving at the house, to shower. She'd had every intention of calling Brittany when she got out, talking to her, apologizing for being kind of a jerk (because even though she needed space, it didn't mean she had any right to make her worry like that). But apparently, her body had other plans, and exhausted from lack of sleep, and emotionally drained, Santana ended up falling asleep on top of the covers in the bedroom Sara kept for her, the one that sometimes felt more like her own than the one above the diner, wearing only a grey terry robe. Finding her niece curled up on her side, looking just as she had as the smallest child, Sara smiled to herself, draping a blanket over the girl's sleeping form, and retreating downstairs, hoping Santana's mind would unpuzzle itself in sleep. She was sitting at the table, going through some invoices for supplies before she had to go visit one of her patients in the hospital, when the doorbell rang.

"Brittany." Sara was surprised when she opened the door, seeing the girl who didn't look much less disheveled than her niece. "What are you doing here? Come on, come in."

"I'm sorry to just show up here." Brittany blushed furiously, trying to smooth out the invisible wrinkles on her jeans and stand a little taller, though after no sleep and a long drive from Roswell, she was pretty sure she was mostly just walking dead. "It's just, Mercedes called me, and she told me about what happened, and I already knew she was upset today. I'm sorry. I feel like such a stalker, but…I'm just really, really worried about her."

"It's okay." Sara smiled softly, taking Brittany's hand. "She didn't tell me much, but I think she'll want to see you as much as you want to see her."

"Oh, good." A deep sigh of relief hissed through Brittany's lips, having been worried all day that maybe it was all too much, maybe Santana would rather resume her normal life, soul be damned.

"She fell asleep right after we got here."

"Is it…?"

"I'll show you where she is." Sara nodded, and led Brittany up the stairs.

After telling Brittany that she'd planned on leaving money for Santana for pizza while she was at the hospital, and that she was more than welcome to stay overnight, Sara went back downstairs. Slowly, nervously, Brittany opened the door, finding Santana sprawled across the bed, her dark hair covering her face, and her body curled up like she was protecting herself. Brittany had to press her hand against her heart, the swell of love and affection she felt actually painful. So badly, she wanted to gather her girl in her arms, kiss away the past twenty-four hours, make everything better. Instead though, she sat on the edge of the bed and watched that beautiful creature sleep. A long time passed, long enough for Brittany to hear Sara's car pull out of the driveway, leaving them alone in the house, but Santana remained asleep, stirring only occasionally.

"No! No! Stop! Don't hurt her!" Santana shrieked out in sleep sometime after the sun began to set, twisting violently, and Brittany immediately jumped up off the bed. "Let her go! Let her go! Please! Please!"

"Santana. Santana." Brittany pressed a hand to the side of Santana's cheek and barely spoke above a whisper, remembering something about not waking someone from a nightmare, but unable to bear seeing her like that.

"You can't! Don't kill her! Brittany!"

"I'm here. I'm right here." Tears streamed down Brittany's face as she pressed a kiss to Santana's forehead, trying to soothe her. Shuddering hard and wrenching herself upwards, Santana emerged from the pull of sleep, sweating and sobbing. "It's okay, it's alright. It was only a dream, everything is okay."

"They…and…you…and…can't breathe." Santana gasped for air, and Brittany sat beside her, wrapping her arms around her and rocking their bodies back at forth.

"Just a dream, just a dream. I promise."

"Brittany." Santana buried her face in Brittany's neck, steadying herself. "You're here."

"I'm here. Mercedes called me."

"I'm a mess." She didn't move away from Brittany, only wiped the tears from her face with the sleeves of her sweatshirt. "A big fucking mess, and I just…I don't even know."

Brittany didn't say anything else, she just held Santana, ran her fingers through long hair, let Santana listen to the beat of her heart, and let herself feel the pulse in Santana's temple against her chest.

"I went a little crazy today. I just want to have some kind of control over my life, and I feel like everything is out of my hands. Oh God, I slapped Kurt, I slapped the sheriff's son, no wonder everyone thinks I'm on drugs. Fuck, Britt, I'm sorry, I totally fucked up, and-"

"Hey, look at me." Brittany coaxed, tilting Santana's chin up so she could see her conflicted dark eyes. "It's okay."

"It's not though. He's going to tell Hummel, and ugh, I am putting you in danger because I was so focused on not putting you in danger, that I lost all control."

"Honey. I know that you slapped Kitty Wilde after the homecoming dance Sophomore year, because she told you that you looked like a hooker in your dress, and that you once elbowed Susie Pepper in the stomach for breathing too close to you, and then told Mr. Martinez that it was a muscle spasm."

"Yeah, but getting grounded by my dad for not behaving respectably is way different. It's Hummel, and…" Santana sniffled, hiding her face in Brittany's hair.

"And you reacted exactly how a lot of people would act. Kurt told your parents something untrue about you. I really don't condone violence, but I do understand how that, combined with everything else you're dealing with, would make you snap. We've all made mistakes, Santana, but like I've had to tell Quinn for years, not every step will lead us straight to being discovered." Brittany accepted Santana's soft hum as agreement, and just held her for awhile, trying to let her heart steady itself and her breathing slow, before she spoke again. "I know you don't talk about it, and you get really uncomfortable when it's mentioned, but you really don't want to go to UNM though, do you?"

"I don't think so. I've never really been allowed to want anything else, so I just figured I'd go. But I don't know, today my mom was nagging me about going for a run, and then my dad came in about the stupid meeting he set up for me, and I snapped."

"It's okay to want something different than what's expected of you." Brittany told her, giving Santana an out, an out from all that she was involved in, if she wanted to take it.

"It's all a lot right now, but I want you, Britt. Today…today I was trying to push away all the things that were expected of me, college, and cheerleading, and even you." Santana confessed quietly, cupping Brittany's cheek, looking deep in her eyes. "But I don't think I'll ever know how to not want you. All day, I had to look at your messages, all day, I kept thinking that the only thing that would make me feel like my whole body wasn't going to splinter apart and float off into the universe was to hold onto you. I thought maybe I could just stop all of it…and maybe I wouldn't be so angry, and maybe it would keep us safe, and alive, and…but I can't."

"I was ready to let you go this morning." Brittany whispered, her nose brushing Santana's. "And then Sam reminded me that you can't change fate. There's nothing romantic about what happened to us, to you, in that other life, it's awful, and every single minute, for as long as I live, I'm going to fight to make sure it never happens again. But us? The story of how we loved so hard and so fully that we found each other like this? I can't let it go. I love you. I love you so much, Santana. I'm terrified of what it means, but I want every moment I have to be with you."

"I love you too, Brittany. But why does it have to be so sad? God, I just had a nightmare about you dying, and I kept having them last night. I just want our story to be a happy one."

"We don't know the end yet. Caderyna and Reyneva, that was just the beginning. I'm kind of just holding out hope that maybe Brittany and Santana get their happy ending."

"I just need to feel you." Santana brought her lips to Brittany's, kissing her, drinking all of her in, releasing a sharp hiss when she felt Brittany's tongue dance with her own.

Santana, remembering she was wearing nothing but a robe, a robe that had become untied at the fitful end of her sleep, blushed a little at her exposure, but Brittany simply smiled and pressed her hand over the pendant between Santana's breasts, feeling again the way Santana's heart beat through it.

"Come here." Santana's voice was raspy as she lied back, inviting Brittany to fit herself between her legs and lie on top of her. "Please."

Complying eagerly, Brittany settled herself on Santana, still kissing her, pulling back, occasionally, to marvel in the way Santana's dark eyes seemed to hold every secret of the universe. She watched as Santana grew needy, desperate, craving some kind of physical reminder that in the here and now, they were alive, they were okay. Brittany knew that in any lifetime, in any world, she would give her beautiful girl anything it was that she wanted. While Santana's body heaved with want, Brittany removed her clothes, pressing her nakedness to her girlfriend, hissing and moaning as tan hands wandered over every freckle and mark that covered her body.

"I wonder if you were made to be perfect, or if I was born to see you that way." Santana breathed heavy in Brittany's ear, wrapping her legs around a slim waist and attaching her lips to a hammering pulse point, growing faster still at Santana's reverent words.


"I really want to be with you, Reyneva." Caderyna confessed, sitting on the same bank they found themselves on each afternoon. Whole body purple and shaking with nerves, Caderyna untwisted her smallest finger from where it held the queen's and took her whole hand instead. "I don't know what it means, really, to belong with someone, but somehow I still know that it's you who I do. I don't want my time with you to be limited to afternoon walks, and dinners, because you're so careful not to startle me. I want to...I want to share your life. I want to be your mate, in all the ways."

"Cady. My Cady." Reyneva managed, so overcome by the words she knew it was hard for Caderyna to make, her understanding of all the feelings that overtook her still very new.

"Please don't be sad. I didn't mean to upset you. If I was mistaken, if you've changed your mind..." Caderyna rushed out, her antennae drooping, and Reyneva quickly brought her small hands to Cady's face.

"No. No, my love. It's all that I want. From when I was small, I imagined what it would be like if I was a lucky one who had another half out there. But you, you in reality, Caderyna, are so, so much greater and more beautiful than I ever could have dreamed. You, the way you make me feel, it's just...it's all the good there is in one perfect being."

"Neva." Caderyna found it so hard to focus on swimming black eyes, and she looked out to the stream, the place where it all began, before refocusing. "You called me your love."

"I did."

"Is it...may I call you that too?" Caderyna asked, and Reyneva simply brought their mouths together, savoring the feeling of the way they seemed to be made to touch. "I want to stay with you forever."

"That's all I want too."

"There might be one other thing I want." She spoke to quietly, so nervously, that Reyneva feared what she'd say, but urged her to speak anyway. "I'd like for you to take me away, love, from where others can see us, and I'd like to feel what it means to truly be your mate."


"Are you alright?" Brittany stopped the spirals she traced on Santana's sides, and focused entirely on her face.

"Yeah." Santana panted, eyes glazed over a little. "It's just them, us. It was who I've been seeing all along, but now, they're so much closer, and you were so beautiful then too. Kiss me. I want you to see."


"Every minute with you opens up my eyes to something brand new." Caderyna murmured sleepily, her head resting against Reyneva's torso, feeling the strong pulse that ran through her body as they lie on the soft brush of the forest floor. "I don't think I'll ever tire of you."

"I hope not, not when you've told me you want to stay with me forever."

"I do. Forever and ever. Much of which can be spent doing what we just were. You were-"

"So were you, love." Reyneva laughed, silencing Caderyna with her mouth. "I'd like if tonight, you came to my bed with me, rather than going to your own. If you'd like, that is."

"I'd more than like. Now that you're so deep within me, I'm pretty sure I won't sleep without you near."

"You may not sleep with me near." She teases, impressed when Caderyna understands immediately, finally beginning to fully grasp the way she speaks and jokes, in a pattern so foreign to her.

"That kind of sleepless night, I'll take."

"We can sleep now though, if you like. The trees will shelter us from prying eyes, and I like to rest beneath them."


"You saw." Santana spoke against Brittany's mouth, and blue eyes shined with tears, amazed at seeing home, of seeing Reyneva.

"I did, and it was amazing. But right now...I only want to see you, this you."

"Then I'm yours to see."

Brittany let her eyes roam Santana's entire body, taking in all she'd missed in the darkness of their tent in the woods. She couldn't stop her mouth as it came down, kissing the sensitive spot where Santana's shoulder met her clavicle, making her shiver. She took her time, mapping every inch of skin she could with her lips, taking a dark nipple into her mouth, holding Santana as she writhed and ached, kissing again the fading bruise on her side, trailing her tongue over a toned stomach, nipping at a protruding hipbone. To Brittany, it were if Santana had been designed to be worshipped, and worship her, she would. With her mouth, Brittany would soothe away every doubt, every worry, would make them both forget, for the shortest time, that a world of uncertainty existed for them outside of that bedroom.

Where it had started with Caderyna and Reyneva, their lovemaking became simply about their human forms, the physical and emotional needs of only Brittany and Santana. As Brittany moved lower, Santana parted her thighs further, exposing herself to Brittany in a way she'd always been too guarded to do with another (wholly confident facade aside). But Brittany wasn't just a partner, she was a lover, a soulmate, and in a strange sort of way, for two so young, the equivalent of her wife. At seeing Santana fully bared, at breathing in the scent of her want, Brittany felt her breath hitch, felt her whole body thrum with it's own need. She looked up at Santana then, at the rapid rise and fall of her chest, the terry robe slipped down past her shoulders, but still covering her arms, her lips parted and swollen, silently begging her girl continue, and Brittany smiled, bringing Santana's hand up to her mouth, kissing the palm of it and squeezing before laying it to rest over the pendant around her neck. Santana's other hand found it's way into blonde locks, affectionately tangling it here, and tracing with her thumb the shell of Brittany's ear, trying to control herself at the sight of the girl she loved, naked between her legs.

"Britt." Santana sighed, curling her toes to keep from lifting her hips when Brittany's nose nudged her bundle of nerves, and the very tip of her tongue poked out tentatively. "Baby."

Brittany, eager to take care of Santana, began exploring her with her mouth, taking note of each moan, each sigh, each tender utterance of her name, storing it deep within her brain, wanting to memorize each and every thing that made her feel good. When she wrapped her lips around Santana's clit, moaning at the way it it pulsates against her tongue, she felt the first tremor quake through the body below her, and she lifted her eyes up, needing to watch her fall apart. Santana had pressed the back of her hand to her mouth, and was struggling to keep her eyes open, but not daring to close them. Brittany, not quite ready for Santana to come, slowed her mouth, ceasing her suckling, in favor of the flat of her tongue, and inciting a low mewl from Santana as her two fingers slipped easily inside of her. She pulled her mouth away completely then, and watched, mesmerized, as the digits disappeared into Santana's wet heat, watched the way they seemed to be made to fit there, made to pleasure her. It was the gentle tug on her hair that broke her away from her trance, Santana's small voice calling her back up.

Before Brittany could make it all the way back up to lie face to face, her fingers still buried deep within Santana, she felt a strong thigh press deliberately between her own, and she couldn't help but grind down on it, her whole body alight and craving. Santana wrapped her arms around Brittany's neck, swallowing the deep moan in a kiss, unsure who's it was, Brittany's, at the pressure Santana was putting on her sex, or her own, tasting herself on her lover's lips for the first time, but the reverberation of it was overwhelming, nonetheless. Santana thrust her thigh up, as Brittany curled and scissored her fingers, searching deeper, deeper within her at every motion, making her shake, making her beg. Even as Santana fell apart though, trembling with the power of her orgasm, she kept her rhythm steady for Brittany, trying, trying to bring her over the edge with her. Her tongue twisted with Brittany's, and still keeping one hand on the back of the alien girl's neck, Santana brought the other down between her legs. Choking back a moan at just how much wetness coated her thigh, Santana pressed her fingers against Brittany's sensitive nub, rubbing until the girl above her cried hot tears of ecstasy into Santana's neck.

"Beautiful." Santana breathed heavy into Brittany's ear, fingers tickling up Brittany's naked back as her body trembled and panted I love you's escaped her lips. Trying to gain her composure, Brittany meant to move a little, but Santana clamped her thighs together, holding Brittany inside of her. "Stay. Stay like this, just a little while. I feel whole this way."

"Okay." Brittany whispered. "I feel it too."

"You came here for me. Oh, God, Britt." Santana felt herself start to panic a little, and Brittany held her close. "You drove from Roswell, and your parents, and Sara."

"My parents think I'm at Quinn's, and Sara is at the hospital. It's just us right now. And Santana?" She wanted to take the embarrassment from Santana's face, to kiss every bit of it away. "I'll always come for you, when I can feel that you need me. I promise you that, alright?"

"I almost said wanky and ruined that." Santana's smirk was unavoidable, and Brittany nudged her nose, brushing her lips over swollen ones, glad to see her playful. "I'm going to get better and stronger and not be such a mess over this, I promise you that."

"San." Brittany tested the shortened name, and felt Santana smile at it. "You just found all of this out twenty-four hours ago, you went through your whole life as this normal, small town girl, and in a matter of a few weeks, I kind of turned that all upside down. I think you're doing a really good job."

"You're just saying that because you're in love with me, and because we are both very, very naked."

"I'm not. Listen. Together, we're going to deal with what comes. We're going to love, and be happy that we found each other, and we're not going to break up because either of us thinks it's safer. And if there's a threat against us, you and I, and Quinn, and Sam, and Mercedes, we're going to kick some serious ass, because I'm not losing you."

"Okay." Santana nodded, because terrifying or not, she found the idea of fighting so survive significantly less displeasing than tearing herself from Brittany, of denying what was very clearly her destiny. "You're not driving back tonight, right?"

"No. Mercedes lent me her car, and-"

"Mercedes lent you her car? She won't even let me drink coffee in there. She makes me wash my hands before I get in."

"Guess she likes me better." Brittany teased. "Or she was so worried about her best friend, that she didn't really care about coffee stains or fingerprints. Plus, I'm not sure if you heard, but I kind of have supernatural powers. I'm pretty sure those things don't stand a chance against Brittany Susan Pierce."

"Babe, I'm pretty sure nothing stands a chance against you." Santana laughed wholeheartedly, and then her stomach let out an embarrassing growl. "I guess we can't really stay like this forever, can we?"

"Probably not." Brittany shook her head, pecking Santana's lips. "But Sara told me that she was leaving you money for pizza, so if you want, we can get dressed, eat, and then maybe talk some more?"

"Yeah, Britt, that sounds perfect."