Keep Me Where the Light Is (part 11)
I wish I could do better by you,
'Cause that's what you deserve
You sacrifice so much of your life
In order for this to work…
While I'm off chasing my own dreams
Sailing around the world
Please know that I'm yours to keep
My beautiful girl…
When you cry a piece of my heart dies
Knowing that I may have been the cause
If you were to leave
Fulfill someone else's dreams
I think I might totally be lost…
You don't ask for no diamond rings
No delicate strings of pearls
That's why I wrote this to sing
My beautiful girl….
(The Girl ~ City and Colour)
Saturday, August 27, 2022
5:28 AM
Brittany took a deep breath before she pushed on the door of Santana's ER exam room. She barely had time herself to absorb the news about the miscarriage before the nurse appeared again to tell her Dr. Yates was ready to speak to Santana and wanted Brittany to be present.
Thankfully, Santana's parents made a hasty exit without asking to see their daughter. Brittany did not care if she ever saw Hector Lopez again though she felt bad about Mrs. Lopez getting caught in the middle once more. Santana's mom had proven to be very supportive of the girls during the planning stage of their wedding and the years that followed.
When Brittany walked in the room, she saw her wife curled on her left side under a light-weight hospital blanket. Santana looked so small and fragile that the blonde's legs weakened under her and her bottom lip quivered, her fortitude immediately wavering. She was grateful the brunette was facing the opposite direction so she could pause a second and take a settling breath, willing herself to be strong for Santana.
"Hey, sweetheart," Brittany said sweetly, her voice catching in her throat, as she walked up and ran a soft caress down the back of her wife's head, causing Santana to turn and look up at her.
Brittany surveyed the Latina's face which was usually so beautiful and brown, finding it tearstained and pale from the loss of blood. Santana looked as depleted as Brittany felt. What stood out to the blonde though were Santana's chocolate-colored eyes, because they were now dazed and nearly vacant.
The nurse told Brittany as she escorted her to see her wife that nobody notified her yet of the miscarriage, but Santana's eyes could not conceal from Brittany the fact that, internally, she already knew.
"Are you in any pain?" Brittany asked timidly, not knowing really what to say, as she brushed Santana's dark locks out of her face.
She shook her head no.
Brittany looked around the small exam room and saw a chair against the wall so she pulled it over to sit next to Santana. "Dr. Yates said she would be here in a few minutes to talk to us," Brittany informed Santana, trying to speak slowly and gently.
Santana nodded and cast her gaze downward.
Brittany swallowed hard before continuing, "They wanted to give me a chance to talk to you first though."
Brittany lowered the silver railing on the gurney then took her wife's hand, pulling it up to her lips and kissing it as her mind searched for the appropriate words. The longer the room was silent, the more Brittany could feel her emotions trying to overtake her, so she went down the path of direct honesty, "Santana…I'm sorry, but..."
Before she could finish her sentence, Santana reached up and put her fingertips over Brittany's mouth, softly pleading, "Don't say it. Please…please don't say it."
Brittany couldn't hold onto her tears any longer, and she felt them roll down her face and off the end of her nose as she repeated, "I am so sorry."
Santana started crying too, telling her wife, "I tried so hard for us."
"I know you did, honey," Brittany leaned toward the brunette, putting her arms around her shoulders, their foreheads touching, "and I love you so very much for it."
The couple cried together for several minutes, not having any more words to ease each other's loss.
There was a knock on the wooden door before it opened, and Dr. Samantha Yates walked in with a clip board in her hand. She gave the girls a sympathetic smile as they looked over at her.
"I know this is difficult," she validated as she stepped to the bed, patting Brittany's shoulder then reaching down to pat Santana's lower leg.
"I should have called you sooner," Santana acknowledged, her voice cracking as her throat strained to force out the words she tried to speak, "I knew things felt different for a couple of days."
"Don't second-guess yourself, Santana," the doctor attempted to soothe her patient's doubts, "When this occurs, there is usually little we can do medically to prevent it."
"My body failed again," the brunette declared, fresh tears escaping her eyes, "and this time, my baby paid the price."
"Honey, don't think like that," Brittany wanted to reassure her, "This is not your fault…it's not anybody's fault."
"You'll be more comfortable once you get into a room," Dr. Yates advised, smiling sympathetically toward Santana and Brittany, "As soon as they locate one for you then they will get you moved upstairs."
"Do you think she'll be able to go home tomorrow?" Brittany asked.
"I'll be by to see you in the morning. We'll see how things look then, ok?"
Santana nodded at the doctor then leaned again into Brittany.
8:11 AM
Santana was finally assigned to a room on the fifth floor of the hospital by seven o'clock that morning. It was a double room, but fortunately, there was nobody in the other bed at this point to disturb her.
Brittany sat in a padded chair at the side of Santana's bed with her feet tucked up under her as she leaned on the arm of the chair, feeling so tired that she was no longer sure if her eyes were actually opened or if she were dreaming all of the activity from the nurses and hospital staff who came in and out to get Santana settled.
"You need to go home and get some sleep," Santana nudged Brittany's elbow.
The blonde shook her head and yawned to give herself a jolt and force her eyes wide.
"You have to be rested enough to dance by two thirty," Santana reminded, her voice still weak.
Brittany leaned forward and took Santana's right hand, rubbing the pad of her thumb over the brunette's knuckles, wanting desperately to pull her close and protect her from all that was happening.
"Britt…," the Latina prodded.
"I already called Dominic and told him I need a replacement for today and tomorrow," the blonde revealed.
"Why would you do that?" Santana reacted, "The chorus needs you."
"Because…my place is with my wife," Brittany assured her, "I think you need me more than they do."
"I'm fine, Brittany," Santana pulled her hand away.
The blonde narrowed her eyes, unsure if Santana was overeating or if her own senses were just heightened. "Don't you want me here?"
"I don't need you to hold a bedside vigil over me," Santana declared as her fingers played with a loose thread on her beige blanket, adding, "I'm not the one who died."
Brittany bit at the corner of her lower lip, the harshness of Santana's statement stinging. "You're sure you don't want any of this?" Brittany asked her wife, motioning to the breakfast tray that sat untouched on top of the bed's table.
"No…take it away please," Santana said softly then turned over onto her other side, facing toward the window.
Brittany took a deep breath and picked it up, carrying the tray out into the hallway to put it on a nearby food storage cart. As she turned, she saw Grayson coming down the hall with Rachel Berry, the two of them moving slowly and looking at the room numbers.
"Hey, we're down here," Brittany waived to get their attention.
Rachel walked ahead of Grayson and immediately put her arms around her sister-in-law's waist, saying sincerely, "I'm sorry, Brittany."
The blonde nodded and hugged her back, responding, "I've heard that a lot this morning."
"I wish I knew something better to say," Rachel confessed, looking up at Grayson who looked as exhausted and disheveled as Brittany looked in her black sweat pants and oversized white t-shirt.
"I know, Rach, and we both really appreciate your love and support," Brittany acknowledged, knowing Santana would find comfort in Rachel's presence, "Let's try not to focus on what happen around Santana, ok?"
Rachel agreed, taking Grayson by the hand and following the taller girl back inside Santana's room. She swallowed back tears as soon as she saw her sister in the hospital bed, reminding herself to be steadfast for Santana. The tiny Diva walked up to the Latina and kissed her cheek.
Santana turned and said, "Hey."
"Hi…I brought a couple of the magazines I know you love," Rachel said in an upbeat tone, pulling them from her large purse, "I also brought a book. I can read to you if you want…or you can read to yourself…whichever you prefer. Oh, and I called ahead for a delivery of sandwiches for everyone's lunch later…from your favorite deli, of course. I can only imagine how awful the hospital food is here."
"Rachel, stop talking," Santana paused the charade, turning onto her back and reaching out her arms, "Just be quiet and come hold me."
The smaller brunette sat on the side of the hospital bed and squeezed Santana tightly, her brave front crumbling as her voice trembled, "I'm just so heartbroken for you guys."
"I know," Santana confirmed, squeezing back.
"I love you," Rachel said the only thing she knew to say, "You know that, right?"
"Yeah," Santana replied, telling her, "Thank you for coming."
"I'm going to sit here with you as long as you need me, ok? All day long."
"Wait, all day? You need to transform into Fanny Brice in a few hours," Santana reminded her.
"No, I told them I need to be with my family today," she replied without hesitation.
"First Brittany calls in…and now you?" Santana lamented, shaking her head, "Alton and Gale are going to hate me."
"Nobody is going to hate anybody, honey," Brittany told her, folding her long leg under as she sat on the other side of Santana's bed, "Dom was very supportive when I called."
"Alton was really sweet when I called too, Santana," Rachel said firmly with a smile, rubbing the Latina's arm, "He said…'that's what understudies are for, dear'."
"Okay then…," Santana relented, instructing, "…Britt…Grayson…you two need to go home and get some sleep."
"Yeah, I need to get cleaned up for an Ad pitch we're doing for some international clients," Grayson let them know.
"Then go…I'll be fine. Rachel will stay with me."
"I don't want to leave you, honey," Brittany shook her head.
"Gray…take her home. Please?" Santana insisted.
"Brittany, you look even more exhausted than I feel," Grayson confirmed delicately, "Let's go get some rest and you can come back later."
She held onto her wife's hand, careful not to dislodge the IV line taped to the top of it, confiding, "I need to be with you."
Santana paused. She felt rather detached from everything that happened over the last few hours, wanting to just shut out the world at this point, but when she looked up at Brittany, Santana could see such pain and worry in her wife's face.
She sighed heavily and pulled Brittany toward her, reminding her, "I love you. I need you to take care of yourself so I can lean on you."
Brittany looked over at Rachel who smiled and nodded encouragingly then she looked back at Santana, kissing her and running a soft touch down her cheek.
"Go home, babe," Santana pushed one more time.
Brittany took a deep breath, feeling fatigue throughout her entire body, and finally relented, "Okay."
9:00 AM
Brittany ultimately appreciated an opportunity to take a cab with Grayson from the hospital back to their building once she remembered she forgot her wallet inside her apartment.
"You have your house key with you, right?" he clarified as they got out of the cab's backseat.
Brittany patted her sweatpants even though there were no pockets in them. "Uh…no," she responded, "I don't think I even locked the front door when I walked out."
Grayson grimaced, knowing how chaotic the scene had been, as he pulled his set of keys from the front pocket of the jeans he threw on before hurrying to join Brittany at the hospital.
When they stepped up onto the stoop of the building, Brittany looked back at the typically mundane side street, picturing the flashing lights of the ambulance in the early morning dark and thinking how quickly things transition from normalcy to things never being the same again.
"Come on," Grayson prompted, holding open the front door of the building.
The two climbed the stairs to the fifth floor, pausing on the landing in front of Grayson's apartment.
"Will you be okay?" he asked his upstairs neighbor.
"Yeah," she told him weakly, the climb up the stairs being nearly too much for her tired body.
"You're sure?"
She forced a smile, answering, "Yeah."
"I'm going to take a power nap before I shower and head to the office. I've got that presentation at noon," he reminded her, "I'll have my cell though if you need me."
Brittany turned back before moving up the next flight of stairs, "Thank you for all your help, Gray."
"I wish I could have done more," he smiled sympathetically at his friend.
Brittany nodded, replying, "Get some sleep."
When she reached her front door, sure enough, it was unlocked. She saw her keys still hanging on the hook where she last put them, and she crouched to the floor and checked inside her dance bag, finding her wallet in its usual place.
Brittany stood up and stopped in the middle of the sunlit apartment, not moving, not looking around, without any real thought forming inside her head to influence what her next action should be. Her stomach rumbled from hunger, but she ignored it, staring straight ahead as her eyes scanned the space in front of her. The room around her seemed foreign to her now, especially without Santana there. Everything seemed so different even though everything was exactly the same.
She blinked several times in quick succession, feeling her eyes sting, remembering she was headed to lie down before she stopped. When Brittany reached their bed and saw the dried blood on the white floral sheets, the totality of what happened finally consumed her and she dropped to her knees on the floor, pulling the dirty sheet off of the bed and clutching it to her chest.
The only time Brittany experienced loss in her life was when she was twelve and her grandfather died suddenly from a heart attack. She remembered everyone around her talking about how he loved his family and lived a long, wonderful life. She also remembered Santana being there to comfort her.
This felt entirely different though. Loss of a child, even an unborn child, was more devastating than imaginable to Brittany, because it meant the loss of potential. Any potential of seeing what their child might look like or how their child might sound and any potential of who their child might grow to be was gone, leaving only a deep ache in Brittany's gut.
She bent over, folding her arms around her mid-section, caving into the ache. The more Brittany tried not to cry out, to suck the pain back inside, the more it fought against her to break through to the surface until the pain finally escaped as a wail from the deepest part of her.
9:51 AM
"Eli!" Frap yelled from behind the restaurant bar.
"What?" the young Hispanic guy appeared from the kitchen.
"I need you to go down to the basement and get that case of Corona to ice down," Frap instructed him, handing over his personal key to the store room, "This should have been done already…we're about to open."
"Sorry, Frap," the NYU student grimaced as he apologized, "I got sidetracked with set up."
"Don't apologize…just move," Frap snipped, shaking his head and walking toward the front of the restaurant.
When Frap got to the entrance, he was surprised to see Brittany Lopez-Pierce standing there.
"Hey, kiddo," the older man greeted her with a giant smile, busying himself with a stack of menus, assuming she was there to pick up brunch to take home. When she didn't move or respond, he looked again at her, observing her greasy, blonde hair pulled into a tousled ponytail and her mismatched outfit, "You look like yesterday's dog shit."
"Thanks," Brittany shrugged, confessing, "It's been a long night."
"Just coming in from partying?" Frap teased, knowing Brittany's social life was much tamer in the last few years.
Brittany reached up and hugged her former boss and friend, crying into his shoulder.
"Hey, what in the world is this about?" Frap returned the hug, patting her softly on her back.
Her emotions were now on autopilot, and all she could do was cry harder.
"Shhhh, sweetheart," he tried to soothe her, "It can't be all that bad, can it?"
It took her a couple of minutes to compose herself to be able to tell him, "Santana's in the hospital."
"Oh no, what happen?"
Brittany wiped at her eyes and nose while tears and snot started running down over her lips as she tried to talk more. "She lost the baby."
"Brittany, I'm so sorry," Frap replied.
She nodded, "Yeah, I know…everyone is sorry."
The gray-haired man sighed, "Not much can be said to ease this sort of pain, sweetheart."
"I know," she sniffed hard, her head pounding from all the crying she had done in the last half-hour.
Frap pulled her by the hand and sat her down at a table near the bar, giving her a glass of water. "Have you eaten?"
"No," she answered after she took a long drink of the clear liquid.
"Sit tight," he instructed, walking toward the pick-up window in front of the kitchen. He reappeared quickly with a plate of Mexican rice. "Eat some of this."
"My stomach hurts," she told him, "Actually…my everything hurts."
He unrolled a fork from a red, cloth napkin and handed it to her, "Eat."
She stared back at him, internally assessing if she could hold down solids.
"Don't make me feed you from the flying airplane spoon like I did with my nephews," Frap said in his typical Louisiana drawl.
She accepted the fork from him and took a couple of bites, remembering she always liked the rice at Caliente and certainly ate enough of it over the past eight years since first waitressing there.
"Still good?" he asked.
She nodded, taking another bite.
His heart hurt for his young friend as he watched her hand shake with each bite. Frap was always the type to make quick conclusions about people and places which is exactly how he decided to buy the Caliente Cab Co. He loved it, so he bought it. He was the same with the people in his life. Either he liked you or you hated him because he had no use for you.
With Brittany though, he more than liked her. He adored her immediately upon meeting her, because she was nearly as quirky as he was. He also saw over the years that she had a heart of gold.
"Why did you come here?" he inquired.
"I went home first when I left the hospital," she paused to take another drink of water, hoping it would keep her from crying again when she thought of the blood, "There was just so much blood. It was all on the bed…on the floor…everywhere."
"Oh sweetheart," he grimaced.
"I'm just so exhausted, Frap…but I couldn't stay there and clean it up," she confided, tears reappearing in her bright blue eyes, "Not today."
There was a noise of someone coming up the basement stairs behind them. Frap turned to see Eli struggling with the case of beer bottles, moving toward the nearby bar.
After the young guy set the box on the floor, he handed back the key ring to Frap, "Here ya go."
"Thanks," the older man said, "Get them on ice then cover the front for me."
Brittany took another few bites of rice as she watched Frap remove a key from his key ring before handing it to the blonde.
"You need rest so you can be strong for your wife," he acknowledged with a warm smile, "Take this extra key and let yourself into my apartment. There's a soft bed in the guest room. There's even a bathtub in the guest bath…go soak and clean up, and then you can get some sleep."
"Frap…," Brittany shook her head, "I didn't come here looking for a handout."
"Good, cause I ain't no charity," he winked at her.
"Are you sure?"
He stood up and put his arm around her shoulders, "I love you, kid…and I hate like hell what happened, so let me do something to help you feel better."
Brittany hugged her former boss once again, responding, "Thank you so much."
"Stay as long as you need," he told her.
Sunday, August 28, 2022
10:37 AM
Santana opened her eyes Sunday morning to see Quinn Fabray sitting in the chair next to her bed.
"What are you doing here?" Santana asked her best friend.
Quinn smiled sweetly and closed her book, setting it in her lap. "I know you told me not to come, but I felt like I needed to be here with you guys."
Santana sighed and pushed the button on her railing to raise the top portion of her bed, "Where did Brittany go?"
"She went down the hall to return some paperwork to your nurse," Quinn replied, "Do you need something? I can get it for you."
The brunette shook her head.
"You sure? Water? Anything?"
"Q, stop. You're as bad as Rachel," Santana quipped, "I couldn't move all day yesterday without her wanting to refluff my pillow."
"We just want to do something…anything…to make you feel better," Quinn admitted.
"It's okay. I'm good," Santana told her, putting her hand over on Quinn's hand, "I just wish the doctor would come by and release me."
The door to her room opened as Brittany returned.
"Damn," Santana said, "I was hoping you were Dr. Yates."
"Sorry," Brittany responded with a slight smile.
"Would everybody stop saying that to me?" the Latina requested loudly, extreme frustration in her tone, "Sorry. I'm sorry. Sorry. For christ's sake, sorry does nothing for me."
Quinn and Brittany froze and looked at each other.
"Santana, calm down please," Quinn requested softly.
"Well, I'm so sick of hearing that word," the brunette retorted angrily, "Sorry doesn't bring my baby back!"
There was a silence that fell over the former high school cheerleaders.
Brittany finally stated softly, "It was my baby too, Santana."
Santana hung her head, realizing what she said hurt her wife.
Brittany circled around to the other side and crawled up on the bed next to Santana, pulling her over onto her, needing desperately to reconnect with her beloved, "I know you're hurting, Santana, but you're not alone in this."
Santana melted into Brittany's long body and started crying, losing some of her pent up anger and telling her, "I love you, Britt."
"I love you too," the blonde assured her, "No matter what…you will always have me, ok?"
The couple held each other close for several minutes until the ring of a cell phone broke the silence.
Brittany pushed herself up on her elbow to look over Santana at the bedside table where the Latina's phone was sitting while Quinn dug inside her purse.
"It's mine," Quinn announced, hearing it louder as she grabbed it and pulled it out, looking at the incoming number.
"Aren't you going to answer it?" Santana asked, looking back over her shoulder at her best friend.
"I don't know this number that keeps calling me," Quinn sounded agitated as the phone went silent, lighting the screen and reading the area code, "It's a 347 number?"
"That's New York City," Brittany told her, "What do they say when they call?"
"Nothing…that's just it. They've called me several times this past week, but they never say anything and they never leave a message."
Santana thought back. She wondered to herself…Could it be, Cate?
"Uhh, Quinn…," the brunette turned in the bed toward the blonde professor, "I didn't tell you this when it happened…maybe I should have."
"What?" Quinn narrowed her eyes, unsure exactly where Santana was going with her statement.
"A few days ago, I uh…I ran into Cate at a bakery…near our apartment," Santana revealed.
"What? You never mentioned it to me either," Brittany sounded as shocked as Quinn looked.
"What did you say to her? What did she say to you?" Quinn uncrossed her legs and sat forward in the chair, "Is everything okay with her?"
"She looked great," Santana recounted, "She lives in the West Village now. I gave her your cell number before she walked away."
"Did she ask about me?" Quinn bit at her lip, unsure she wanted the answer.
Santana grimaced before responding hesitantly, "She was with somebody."
Quinn's heart sunk as quickly as her hopes had risen.
"Call the number back, Q," Brittany suggested.
Quinn sat there pondering the possible outcomes before saying timidly, "Should I?"
Santana and Brittany both nodded.
"What do you have to lose?" Santana ventured, wanting to see Quinn as happy as she had been when she was with Cate.
Quinn unlocked her iPhone and swallowed hard, her mouth feeling quite dry at the prospect of this number leading her to Cate. She pulled up her list of missed calls, selecting the 347 number then hitting redial.
She slowly put the phone to her ear, feeling her heart thumping in her chest as she waited. Quinn's green eyes scanned nervously back and forth from Santana to Brittany until finally there was a voice that answered, "Hello?"
Quinn's breath caught in the back of her throat as she said, "Cate?"
There was a long pause before the voice on the other end replied, "Hi, Quinn."
Author's Note: The response to the events in Chapter 10 was overwhelming. As upset as you guys were, you never faltered in your support of this story. Thank you so much for that.
Please keep in mind that the original characters I create and the other Glee characters such as Rachel and Quinn are weaved throughout this story for specific reasons. I hope readers will find that these non-Brittana characters come into play in unique and interesting ways just I did with the additional characters in Her Smile Heals Me. Everyone was there for a purpose. Nobody was written as filler. I leave that to the creators and writers of the actual Glee series.
To address specific concerns raised that KMWTLI is not focused enough on Brittany and Santana, allow me to point out that Brittany and Santana are now adults and live in NYC and have independent lives which bring them into contact with other people just like each of us in our daily lives.
How are they to get from point A to point B to point C without talking to their best friends, their family members, co-workers, and/or their neighbors or shop keepers or students or anyone else with whom they come into contact? I can't realistically have them link pinkies as 28-year-olds then skip through Manhattan doing every single thing together nor can I base an entire multi-chapter story on Brittany and Santana locked together in a basement and only speaking to each other while cuddling.
Please trust me enough as the writer of this story to have the big picture in mind. I know you guys want them to be happy, and I know you guys want to see them interact. To have a well-rounded fic though, I need to paint a colorful and interesting picture. As you read each post, you are only getting a glimpse at sections of this larger painting. I promise you, once it is completed, it will all make sense. I won't let you guys down, ok?
Anyway, moving on…if you enjoyed this chapter or have any comments then please leave a review. I do indeed read and consider them all when writing the next chapters. Thanks again for your support! Kim