Keep Me Where the Light Is Chapter 19: I'll Walk Slow, a glee fanfic

Keep Me Where the Light Is (Part 19)

Well, love was kind for a time
Now just aches, and it makes me blind…

This mirror holds my eyes too bright
And I can't see the others in my life…

Were we too young? Our heads too strong?
To bear the weight of these lover's eyes.
'Cause I feel numb, beneath your tongue
Beneath the curse of these lover's eyes…

But do not ask the price I paid
I must live with my quiet rage
Tame the ghosts in my head
That run wild and wish me dead
Should you shake my ash to the wind
Lord, forget all of my sins
Oh, let me die where I lie
'Neath the curse of my lover's eyes…

Cause there's no drink or drug I've tried
To rid the curse of these lover's eyes
And I feel numb beneath your tongue
Your strength just makes me feel less strong…

And I'll walk slow, I'll walk slow
Take my hand, help me on my way
And I'll walk slow, I'll walk slow
Take my hand, help me on my way…

(Lover's Eyes ~ Mumford & Sons)

Monday, October 24, 2022
6:00 PM

The elevator dinged loudly, announcing its arrival on the tenth floor of a posh apartment building in uptown Manhattan. The sound shook Brittany from her wandering thoughts, and she looked over at the bronzed-skinned, handsome man standing next to her.

Dominic Serra stood about five feet and ten inches, not much taller than Brittany herself. He had thick, dark hair that was starting to turn silver around his temples, yet his face maintained a youthful appearance and his hazel eyes glimmered under the bright lights of the elevator.

The muscles in Dominic's arms flexed as he picked up Brittany's larger suitcase then, smiling, he said to her, "I'm in 10E…it's this way."

He turned to the left and started down the hallway. Brittany looked at the apartment numbers as they walked past each of the ornate, green doors…10H, 10G, 10F.

"Here we go," Dominic said cheerfully as he swiped his plastic key card above the door knob. He pushed open the front door then stepped aside and motioned for Brittany to enter ahead of him.

The blonde dancer walked hesitantly down a small entry hall, hearing the dark, hardwood floor squeak beneath each of her steps. Seeing no signs of anyone else, she was suddenly unsure if being in her choreographer's apartment was a good idea.

"You can just set your bags here for now," Dominic told her, setting down her suitcase in an open area of his living room.

She followed his path inside glass-framed French doors and instantly noticed how pristine Dominic's apartment was kept. Everything was a mixture of white and black…white-painted walls with elaborate wood details, ebony wood floors, modern white sofas, black leather side chairs. Everything was dusted and polished and neatly in its appropriate space.

Brittany felt unkempt as she stood in such a tidy, extravagant interior, and she fidgeted and pulled her gray hoodie tighter around her slim frame.

Using an electronic light switch near the glass doors, Dominic turned on several lights then turned toward Brittany with a large smile, "Hungry?"

Brittany nodded first, trying to push her voice out of her dry throat, "Yes."

"Great!" the older man exclaimed, clasping his hands together enthusiastically, "Let's cook!"

He led his young protégé up the hall toward the back of the apartment and switched on another set of lights, revealing a large, modern kitchen with all the luxury befitting a seasoned chef with its oversized counters and shiny, stainless steel appliances. Dominic had continued the black and white theme in his kitchen with white tile on the floor and walls and black cabinets and marble counter tops.

"This is a beautiful apartment, Dom," Brittany complimented.

"Thank you," he smiled genuinely, tightening the ties of an apron around his trim waist, "My wife chose most of the fixtures. My ex-wife, that is."

"Oh?" Brittany was unaware of Dominic's home life, but she had always assumed he was gay.

He took some ground meat and a package of fresh pasta from the large refrigerator as he continued, "Yeah, my marriage broke up two years ago, but I got the apartment…along with the mortgage."

The humor in Dominic's voice was lost on Brittany. All she heard was "marriage" and "broke up", and her thoughts instantly went to Santana, causing her to bite at her lower lip and look down.

"I'm sorry," he said with an empathetic grimace, realizing what he said. Pulling a large boiling pot from the lower cabinet, he stated, "That was insensitive of me."

"No, it's fine," the blonde waived off before she took a deep breath and looked up, forcing a smile, "I'm fine. Everything is fine."

Dominic stopped his activity at the center island's sink and looked toward Brittany. "You use that word a lot lately," he observed.

"What word?" she asked with confusion, wrinkling her nose.

He took a breath before turning the handle to start the water pouring into the large pot then answered, "Fine."

Brittany shrugged, fidgeting with the container of pasta in front of her on the counter.

"Are you really fine?"

The attractive blonde had not realized how automatic that response had become for her. She did not even know what her true feelings were currently, because passing off herself as normal to hide the fact she was barely functioning had become her only goal. In Brittany's mind, if she could convince those around her then there was hope she might convince herself.

"Brittany?" Dominic nudged his young dancer from her moment of self-reflection.

When she looked up at him, she had fresh tears in her blue eyes.

"Hey…," he stepped around the center island and put his arms around her, "You know…it's okay to admit you're not fine."

Being physically comforted by her boss felt awkward to Brittany until she realized how much her body was craving that type of solace. Brittany put her arms around Dominic, her closed-off emotions finally escaping as a sob, and she confessed, "I'm not fine."

Wednesday, October 26, 2022
7:01 AM

Cate Boyd sat outside on the rooftop of her West Village apartment early Wednesday morning. She was slouched down in a green, metal garden chair with her long legs stretched out in front of her and propped up on the raised edge of the bricked building. A chill passed through her slim frame as her brown hair blew in the cool, October wind, and she sang casually to herself while she strummed familiar chords...

Sitting in the morning sun
I'll be sitting when the evening comes
Watching the ships roll in
And I'll watch 'em roll away again…

Sitting on the dock of the bay
Watching the tide roll away
I'm just sitting on the dock of the bay
Wasting time…

I left my home in Georgia
Headed for the 'Frisco bay
'Cause I had nothing to live for
And looks like nothing's gonna come my way…

So I'm just…

Sitting on the dock of the bay
Watching the tide roll away
I'm just sitting on the dock of the bay
Wasting time…

Looks like nothing's gonna change
Everything still remains the same
I can't do what ten people tell me to do
So I guess I'll remain the same…

Cate was playing low enough that she heard a sound behind her near the door that led back inside the stairwell, causing her to pause her song and turn her head toward the noise.

Standing there in a thick, flowered house robe, holding a steaming mug of coffee, was Quinn Fabray.

"I thought I might find you up here," she smiled as she spoke, moving toward Cate who lowered her feet to the ground and sat up in her chair.

"Hey, baby," Cate returned the smile and leaned forward to prop her guitar against the wall of the roof's edge. She held out her left arm and motioned Quinn closer, "Come keep me warm."

"You need a jacket this early in the morning," Quinn commented, tugging on Cate's long-sleeved thermal.

"I only need you," Cate assured the blonde as she pulled her gently into her lap and wrapped her long arms around Quinn's pregnant belly, angling her head upward to kiss her, "And your kisses."

"I didn't mean to interrupt you," the younger girl said sweetly, leaning in to kiss Cate again, "I was enjoying your song."

"It was my dad's favorite," Cate responded.

"I miss him," Quinn shifted in Cate's lap, thinking of Stuart Boyd. He was the complete opposite of her own father. He had been one of the most genuinely kind and humorous people Quinn ever met, and all of his best traits were the parts she loved most about his daughter.

"Me too," Cate gave a small smile at the bittersweet memory of her late father.

"Sip?" Quinn offered as a distraction.

Cate tipped the oversized mug to her lips, swallowing a large gulp of the warm coffee. She grimaced slightly which got a chuckle from Quinn.

"Still not used to decaffeinated, huh?" Quinn quipped.

"Never!" Cate laughed, hugging her girlfriend closer and rubbing her chilled face on the fluffy fabric of Quinn's warm robe.

Quinn settled further into Cate's embrace and tilted her head toward the rising sun. "The sunrise is beautiful, isn't it?"

"Whenever I was in San Francisco…after we broke up…," Cate started somewhat hesitantly, squeezing Quinn again, "…I would go out on this pier near my apartment and watch the sun come up. I would sit there all morning sometimes, just listening to the seagulls and to the water as it splashed against the dock, and I would look at the sun and wondering if you were looking up at it too. It made the world seem a little less huge."

Quinn did not respond immediately. The pain of what happened between them was still evident in Cate's voice, and knowing she was the direct cause of that pain brought tears to Quinn's green eyes.

Finally, Quinn swallowed hard and said, "I'm very sorry, sweetheart. I thought I was helping you."

"Helping me what?" Cate's brow furrowed and she looked up at Quinn's face.

Quinn shrugged, "You are so talented, Cate…you deserved a chance to make it big. Not settle down in Smalltown, New England. Not because of me anyway."

"That wasn't what I wanted though," Cate insisted.

Quinn took another sip of her coffee, contemplating before finally revealing, "I thought I was setting you free."

"You pushed me away," Cate responded, adding softly, "Rather than face your demons."

Quinn sat up. "What demons?"

"Commitment," Cate answered.

"You think I have a fear of commitment?" Quinn laughed and shook her head, her blonde ponytail falling over her shoulder, "Why would I?"

"Your parents," Cate speculated, "Your father."

"That's silly, Cate. If I have such a fear of commitment then what's this," Quinn gestured from Cate to herself.

The older girl gave a half-smile, "Commitment."

"Exactly," Quinn smirked in victory.

A silence fell over the couple, and Quinn settled back against Cate's chest. They cuddled close for a minute, looking up at the golden sun that had moved higher in the Eastern sky. A loud garbage truck and several car horns could be heard from the city traffic as the day pushed into full swing on the streets below them.

"It's not marriage though," Cate finally added delicately.

Quinn pondered in silence, thinking about the way that statement came out of Cate's mouth. It had an edge of disappointment and a hint of longing. Perhaps, though, Cate's theory was correct, because as the word 'marriage' moved through Quinn's brain, the concept scared the hell out of her.

The young professor had several images flash in her mind…her father's face when he rejected her, kicking her out of their house on the night he found out she was pregnant at sixteen…her mother as she sobbed and explained to Quinn how she discovered her husband's affair, her betrayal and humiliation visible…Alison's accusations and harassment toward Quinn when none of it was warranted. It was most certainly true that those experiences affected Quinn and how she viewed love and commitment.

She turned her head back toward Cate. Catherine Boyd, the girl who appeared out of nowhere and changed the course of Quinn's entire existence. She was the girl whose love and loyalty never faltered even after all these years and the girl who hardly blinked when Quinn revealed that she was unexpectedly pregnant again and wanting to raise her child this time.

Quinn cast her gaze downward then back up before saying adamantly, "I would marry you."

The declaration took Cate by surprise, not so much the words as how confidently Quinn said them.

"You would?"

Quinn nodded, "I never want to be without you ever again."

Cate smiled broadly. "Then…marry me."

Quinn laughed at the look on Cate's face. She put her hand on the round bump in her mid-section for emphasis, "Now? Like this?"

"Sure, why not?" Cate suggested, "I want to be able to say, 'Nurse, help! My wife's in labor!'"

Quinn laughed harder and playfully slapped at Cate's shoulder, "You are such a goof."

"So is that a yes?"

"Yes," Quinn smiled and nodded, "Yes, I'll marry you."

Cate beamed, "Awesome! Oh wait though…I only get one shot at this so it has to be official."

"Official?" Quinn was confused.

Cate pushed the attractive blonde to a her so she could stand up. She looked around the rooftop for anything she could use to properly propose.

"What are you looking for?" Quinn giggled.

"A ring," Cate answered.

"A ring? On a rooftop?"

"Ok, anything round then," the older girl clarified, still searching the immediate area.

Quinn pulled out the ponytail holder that was in her blonde hair, "Here…will this do?"

The tall brunette smiled and took the round holder from Quinn's hand then dropped to one knee and cleared her throat before speaking.

"Wait…," Cate said again.

Quinn could not stop giggling at the slight madness of the moment. "What now?"

Cate stood again and took the coffee mug from Quinn and set it down then bent again on her knee, holding both of Quinn's hands.

The brunette bit at her lip, her nerves unexpectedly flaring, unsure of what to say. "Your hands are cold."

"Yes, and I really need to pee," Quinn stated with a wink to break the sudden tension.

That comment made Cate laugh which relaxed her, "I love you, Quinn. Since the first time I met you, I knew you were different than anyone else."

"Way back then?" Quinn flushed under the sentiment.

"From the very beginning," Cate confirmed, a warm expression moving across her pretty face, "You were everything that I never knew was missing from my life."

Quinn saw moisture form in the corners of Cate's clear blue eyes, and she instantly felt emotional too. "I love you so much, honey."

"A lifetime with you isn't enough. Ten lifetimes maybe," Cate winked, adding, "With you…with our child, our family."

"I would spend eternity with you, my love," Quinn assured the older girl.

A tear escaped and rolled down Cate's left cheek, and she asked, "Quinn Fabray…will you marry me?"

Without hesitation, Quinn responded, "Absolutely. It would make me the happiest girl in the world."

Cate smiled widely and chuckled as she wrapped the black fabric band around Quinn's left ring finger three times until it was secured. "Is that too tight?"

"It's perfect," Quinn cackled at the oddity of her engagement "ring", "It's one of a kind…just like you."

Cate stood and pulled Quinn as close as her baby bump would allow, kissing her deeply.

"Now I'm the happiest girl in the world," Cate assured Quinn.

5:41 PM

Brittany was walking down the backstage corridor of the Gershwin theatre late Wednesday afternoon, following the matinée performance of Funny Girl, when she heard her name called behind her.

"Brittany!"

The blonde chorus dancer turned to see the show's lead performer moving quickly in her direction.

"Wait up!" Rachel Berry yelled toward the taller girl.

Brittany slowed her gait and told the rest of the chorus, "You guys go on."

Austin Royle smiled and gave her an encouraging pat on the shoulder as he passed her and continued toward the dressing rooms.

"Hey, Britt…," Rachel said, slightly out of breath from the show's finale and from her quick trek to catch up with her sister-in-law, "I feel like you've been avoiding me lately."

"Why would I do that?" Brittany dismissed the notion even though internally she knew she had.

Rachel shrugged. "I thought we could go get a quick dinner between shows?"

Brittany bit at her lip and fidgeted with the bottom hem of her costume, clearly uncomfortable with the idea.

She acknowledged to herself that Rachel had tried hard to be supportive in the past few weeks. The tiny brunette had insisted Brittany stay with her instead of a rundown hotel when she first moved out, but there was something undefinable inside Brittany which wanted nothing to do with Santana or her family. Brittany only knew she was angry and hurting…and distance was the only way she felt she could work through it.

"I don't know, Rach…I need to…," she trailed off.

"Brittany…please?" Rachel pushed, reaching out to touch the taller girl's hand.

"Okay," Brittany relented with a heavy sigh, adding, "I'll come to your dressing room once I change."

"Great," Rachel beamed, letting Brittany walk off ahead of her, grateful for the small breakthrough.

Once both girls changed out of their costumes, they made their way out to street level and over to a little dive the cast loved that served Thai food. Once they ordered at the counter, they found a small table near the large window.

"How have you been doing?" Rachel asked the girl across from her.

"Good," Brittany auto-responded, turning her head to look out at the pedestrians on the sidewalk that ran along Broadway.

Rachel stared quietly at her, choosing her topics carefully. "Have you picked your costume yet?"

"Costume?" Brittany turned back toward Rachel with a look of confusion.

The petite brunette took the paper wrapper off her straw, putting the clear tube down into her water. "Yeah…for Kurt and Blaine's Halloween party? It's Monday night."

It had not occurred to Brittany that the holiday was next week though she did know about the annual party the guys' threw since she and Santana went every year.

The memory from the year before flashed in Brittany's head, and she smiled unintentionally when she thought of Santana in her tight red devil costume with horns on top of her head and a triton spear she carried around all night, playfully poking Brittany anytime she passed her.

The blonde sighed. "I'm not going," Brittany stated, her voice emotionless.

Rachel moved her fork and knife, lining them up evenly on the napkin underneath, as she thought whether she should broach the topic of Santana. She took a deep breath and opened her mouth to say something when she was interrupted by their waitress who appeared from behind her.

"You have tofu curry?" the young girl asked in broken English.

Brittany pointed toward Rachel.

"I did," the starlet confirmed, raising her hand as if she were answering a question in math class.

"Chicken Pad Thai?" the waitress clarified before setting Brittany's plate in front of her.

"Thank you," the girls said simultaneously with polite smiles.

"You need more water?" the waitress asked.

"Not yet," Rachel answered, seeing that neither she nor Brittany had taken even the first sip of their drinks.

After the waitress walked away, Brittany picked up her fork and stabbed a piece of chicken. Dining out was a luxury for her at this point even if this was a cheap restaurant, and she savored the spicy flavors in her mouth.

Both girls continued to chew in silence until Rachel paused and took a sip of water, deciding to mention, "I overheard a rumor backstage."

"About?" Brittany responded flatly, not one to buy into stage gossip.

Rachel cut a large piece of tofu in half, saying, "About you."

"About me?" Brittany's brow furrowed. Chewing, she asked, "Okay…what was it?"

"That you were seen arriving and leaving with Dominic Serra," Rachel threw out, looking down at her plate before adding, "All week."

Brittany finished her bite and washed it down with water before responding, "Gossip is gossip, Rachel."

"So it's not true?" Rachel sounded somewhat relieved, "You aren't staying at his apartment?"

"Just because it's true doesn't mean it's not gossip," Brittany's voice had an angry edge to it.

"Brittany!" Rachel said louder than she intended. She looked around the small interior, seeing a table of four older cast members in the center of the restaurant and lowering her voice to barely above a whisper, "He is your boss."

"He is very kind to me," the tall dancer defended, "And we aren't doing anything wrong…so why shouldn't I accept his help?"

"Because it looks bad," Rachel insisted, "You are married."

"I am separated," Brittany emphasized, "Anything about my marriage is between me and Santana…who, by the way, hasn't made any effort to contact me but has drained what little we had in our bank account. I think she's sent a pretty clear message."

"She's trying to turn things around, Britt," Rachel offered, "Grayson said she's not drinking anymore."

Brittany set her fork on the table and looked down at her plate, her appetite leaving her.

Rachel wanted Brittany to hear the latest, telling her, "I spoke to her this morning. She has a job. It's her first week and her feet were aching, but she sounded upbeat. Almost like the old Santana."

Brittany turned her head to look out the window again. The old Santana…is it even possible for Santana to go back to how she used to be, Brittany wondered…will I ever be the same again?

"Brittany?" Rachel prodded, "Santana loves you deeply…you should never doubt that."

The blonde shook her thoughts away and looked back at Rachel, acknowledging, "I don't."

Saturday, October 29, 2022

1:37 PM

"I need another beer over here, hot stuff?" a Caliente customer hollered across the packed dining room, holding up his empty Corona bottle.

"Just a minute please," Santana called to the older, portly man.

The dark-haired beauty rotated around which caused the drinks on her heavy tray to slosh over the side and run off onto the arm of a woman seated at one of Santana's other tables.

"Hey, watch it!" the woman responded angrily.

"I'm so sorry," Santana told her, "I'll bring you another napkin. Just let me serve these drinks."

"Miss? You said you'd bring us some more chips and salsa…that was over ten minutes ago," a girl said to her from a large table of university students.

"Yes, I know…they're making a fresh batch in the kitchen. I'll get them out to you in like two minutes," Santana explained as she set the last of her drinks on a nearby table.

The frazzled Latina walked over to a side station and picked up several paper napkins then walked them over to the lady who still seemed agitated about the spill. As Santana passed another table of newly-seated patrons, she paused and assured them, "I'll be right back to get your drink order."

When Santana approached the bar to pick up her next delivery of margaritas, she told the bartender, "I need a Corona with a lime, Jason."

"Is that for you?" Renee asked with a chuckle.

"I wish," Santana sighed heavily, leaning into the wood of the bar, "but right now, I could use a nap more than a drink."

"Not as easy as it looks, huh?" the dark-skinned girl winked.

"I definitely have a new appreciation for how hard Brittany worked all those years," Santana said sweetly.

The seasoned waitress had worked several years with Brittany at Caliente and knew just how hectic and surly the weekend brunch crowd could get. "Well, I think you are doing a damn fine job for your first week, honey!"

"Thanks, Renee," Santana smiled back at her, grateful for the encouragement, "I'm off in fifteen minutes…pray for me that I survive until then."

"Fifteen minutes today, but you'll blink and you'll have been here five years like me," Renee teased, setting the final frozen margarita on her tray and walking off, saying over her shoulder, "Hang in there, honey!"

"Santana!" a booming voice said behind the Latina.

She turned to see Frap approaching. "Frap…I'm going. I promise," she assured him, picking up a cocktail and setting it on her tray.

"Well, hold up a sec," the older man instructed, "You and I have something to discuss."

"Is it the tray of food I dropped yesterday?" Santana grimaced. She had hoped her boss would not hear about that incident. "I'm really sorry…I cleaned it up myself. I'll replace the plates if I need to."

"Santana…take a breath," her boss patted her on the arm, "Shit happens, it's okay."

The brunette let out a long flow of air, hearing a customer at one of her tables calling, "Miss, can we get some service over here?"

"Just a second," Santana said loudly.

"Listen, darlin'…you're as out of place here as a bastard child at a family reunion," he said with a straight face, slipping a white envelope into the pocket of her black apron which was tied around her slender waist.

"What's that?"

"Your pay…in cash," Frap answered, "For the next few weeks, plus extra to cover tips."

"Are you firing me, Frap?" Santana sounded panicked.

"Noooo, darlin'. I want to help you…the best way I know how," he clarified, "Call your agent. Use your time next week to go on some auditions."

"Frap…." Santana shook her head, at a loss for words.

"Don't think…just take it and go. We both know you belong on stage, not mopping up refried beans."

Santana put both arms around the gruff old Southerner, hugging him tightly then she kissed his cheek.

"Alright, alright. Now go…before you set my restaurant on fire or something," he waived her off.

"Thank you so much, Frap," the young Latina told him, smiling widely and untying her apron.

"Hey, hot stuff! My beer?" the same guy yelled at her again.

Incited by the old guy's crassness, Santana picked up the clear glass bottle of Corona beer and walked it over to him, slamming it hard onto the table, articulating slowly and harshly, "Here is your beer, sir! And if you call me 'hot stuff' one more time…I will stick it so far up your ass that you will choke on the lime."

With that, the beautiful brunette turned and walked out of Caliente, waving excitedly to Renee as she passed her.

Author's Note: Life has been extra crazy lately, so thank you all for your continued patience. I hope you enjoyed this update. I'm requesting that you please take a moment to let me know what you thought, because your feedback is what motivates and encourages me to do the next chapter.

Some of y'all have sent me private messages here or on tumblr, sharing your personal situations and how this story has affected you. I am moved by each of you. You are all so very brave to face your personal obstacles with strength you might not have realized you had.

I also want to take this opportunity to thank my girlfriend, Shay, for her endless support. She is my constant inspiration, my muse, and I adore her and love her with everything I have. Thank you, sweetheart!