A/N I've decided story writing is super hard and confusing and that I'm in awe of the people on here that do this all the time. I've heard a rumor that some people on here have like a hundred stories going. They need like an awesome big rainbow cake made for them or something.

Anyway, with this story, I think of memories and I draw equal or related parallels to the Glee world and that's the really easy part. It's the whole 'which parts should I include?' and making sure to explain enough so it translates from my head to yours. That's hard. I don't actually know what I'm doing to be honest.

But anyway, I'd love to hear people's thoughts… don't be afraid to let me know if you have any advice, I'm like the least scary person ever. Or if you relate to something here, I'd love to hear your story too. :)

Chapter 5- Is This Real Life?

Brittany S. Pierce, Present

As she ran her fingers through my hair that time when we were only ten, it was like she was clearing away a bit of the fog so I could finally see her properly. That's how I see that moment. It was like I was on my other planet like always and she came and shone a light like a beacon so I could find my way to her, or at least take those first few steps toward reaching her.

That's what autism is like really, it's kind of like living in a misty world of fog that swirls around you blocking things from getting out and in. Before you realize you're trapped, it's honestly not really that bad, it keeps you from thinking about things too much for that.

The difference between having what they call an autism spectrum disorder and having Asperger's syndrome is that, while all of us start out locked away inside that planet, those with the milder version have the best potential to make their way out. Most do at some point. Those with classified autism don't always. Many stay in their own worlds and don't even realize they're in them in the first place. I guess there is a certain beauty in that, an untouchable otherworldly quality. Gradually as I moved further into Santana's world I lost that and only retained a fraction of what I had before. People noticed. I noticed too.

But I'd do it all over again, anytime.

I felt like as I glimpsed everything that is Santana and her world beyond I expanded, letting everything she showed me fill me up inside. It was like something in me grew, turning into something that allowed me to find her even when she wasn't shining that light on me anymore.

You know what the main part of it was though? Autism by definition means "a retreat into the self."

That moment was really the first time I ever realized that there's something out there much bigger than myself.

Brittany S. Pierce, age 13.

Santana couldn't believe this dumb class. Their art teacher was treating them like elementary school kids by forcing them all to make Father's Day cards.

Brittany wasn't that into it because they wouldn't let her use crayons, but after a bit of pouting she had made one anyway.

In Santana's case, the very thought of Father's Day cards or Mother's Day cards and actually participating in this lame activity made her get on the bitchtown express.

She had even snapped at Brittany before when Brittany offered to help her make her card so she didn't get in trouble.

Brittany had gathered a piece of black cardboard and some glitter that she thought Santana would like. "I'll help you make yours San, between the two of us we can make the best card ever to send to Dr Lopez."

"I don't have a dad, remember? Why can't you get that through your head?"

Brittany had dropped the cardboard and glitter like it was on fire and now sat silently at Santana's side. Santana felt terrible, she hated snapping at Brittany, and she especially hated that it was happening so much more often lately.

Quinn slid into the seat on Santana's other side, already having made a professional looking card in a matter of minutes, even though Santana hadn't seen her pick up any supplies. Maybe she got that nose known as Berry and her little friends to do it.

Santana turned away from Brittany and looked at Quinn, glad that she had something to do other than feel guilty and sit in silence with Brittany.

"So you're going right? To the dance at Dalton?" Quinn whispered to Santana.

"Of course. What are we wearing?" Santana whispered back.

Nobody really knew why, but in Junior High it was completely essential for groups attending a dance to be themed and matching. The Dalton Jr High dances were held every Friday night, although strangely the boys and girls rarely actually danced together. Honestly, the boys mostly talked among themselves, and the girls stuck to their in-groups on the other side.

Quinn frowned prettily in thought of which theme they could take. "80s?" she asked.

"Nope. I heard Ashleigh's groups is doing that already," said Santana.

"How 'bout cheerleaders," Quinn suggested, naming her favorite high school aspiration and also favorite conversation topic since she was in 5th grade.

Brittany sighed. When Santana and Quinn were together these days cheerleading, popularity and boys were all they could talk about. They were determined to make it on the squad next year when they were all at McKinley high.

Santana nodded her approval and Quinn began to plan how they would find dresses that looked a little like uniforms, but Santana's mind was on Brittany. Hearing her sigh and knowing that she'd rather be anywhere but here, Santana quickly glanced sideways at her and then under the table placed her hand gently on Brittany's knee, running her thumb up and down her skin to comfort her, trying to let her know that she wasn't really mad at her about before.

Brittany spent the next quarter hour playing with Santana's fingers like they were the most interesting thing in the world. To her, they probably really are interesting, Santana thought. Brittany had become a lot more comfortable with being touched, so long as it was only Santana. Santana hands felt like they were just an extension of Brittany, like the two of them together were really just a single unit. She could find comfort in Santana now, as soon as Santana touched her it was like her mind ceased to work and her thoughts went blank, but now it was in a good way, like she had fallen inside a cloud and was floating inside, safe from the world, without the need to question anything.

Santana would be lying if she didn't say she used this to her advantage, like just now. She had turned Brittany's brain off not only to calm the girl, but so she could make conversation without Brittany interjecting with her random comments about ducks or whatever. This way, she could score a few points with Quinn and butter her up by telling her how good she would look in her outfit to keep the peace. Santana knew that she couldn't keep doing this forever and Brittany was beginning to ask questions about why they were suddenly talking to Quinn again. Santana realized that she had to talk to her friend and try to explain what was going on. She'd planned to it yesterday and the day before that... and the day before that. Tonight, she promised herself silently, nodding along to Quinn's excited chatter.

"Britts," Santana began hesitantly when they were settled on the couch in Santana's room that night. In the past few years Brittany had gradually become accustomed to finding her way around Santana's bedroom although she would get lost in any other room in the house.

Santana's mom was nowhere in sight and Santana guessed she was probably doing a night shift, or sleeping over at her boyfriend's house.

How do I put this, Santana thought, then noticing she had gained Brittany's full attention, she just jumped right into it. She was never good at beating around the bush. Besides, with Brittany, that kind of thing tended to lead them far away from the bush, out into the forest and then out of the country. "Brittany, okay, you know how I've been talking to Quinn?"

"Oh," Brittany said, "Is she giving you a hard time? Cause you can totally just beat her up. Or do that thing where it's like you have laser beams coming from your eyes."

"No… It's not like that. Look Brittany, I know for a long time it has just been you and me, but things are changing and we don't have enough people," Santana said willing her to understand.

"Enough people for what?" Brittany asked confused.

"I knew you wouldn't get it. Britts, we're gonna be in high school soon, and in high school there are things called labels," Santana stated, her voice indicating it was something to be feared.

"What's a labels? Like a spoon?"

"No, that's a ladle. A label is something people call you based on the way they see you. And you either get a Lima loser label or a winner label."

"You can't have both?"

"No."

"Why weren't labels important before?" Brittany pouted.

"Before high school, everybody is in small classes where there are only maybe two or three people that you really have to convince that you're too scary for them to hurt you. Also, no one really cares because when you're a little kid, you aren't expected to be defined yet, you're kind of in progress. We now have to be out-of-progress and ready made for Sue Sylvester's Cheer squad. From what I've heard, the quickest way to be popular is to join that squad and you get benefits like no other," Santana said beginning to smile at the thought of how much free stuff there would be.

"But I'm not out of progress yet," Brittany said, her bottom lip beginning to tremble, "Does that me definitely a Lima loser already?"

"No… no…no," Santana reached for her but Brittany jerked back out of her reach and nearly fell off her half of the couch. "B, no. You're different, you're special and I like you just the way you are, okay? The rules are different for you, it's just… we've got to pretend that you're following the same rules as everyone else because we can't be the two kids that sit at the back of the class that nobody likes. It can't be just us again them, because there will just be too many of them. Please understand, we need Quinn to help us because she's kind of the person that demands popularity, and I've already heard she's a shoo-in for the cheer squad," Santana said pleadingly.

"I liked it when it was just us against them."

"I did too B," Santana wasn't sure if this was true anymore, but it definitely had been for a long time.

Brittany was still looking hurt, sitting as far away from Santana as she could get on the couch.

"B, I think Miguel wants to talk to you," Santana said in an attempt to cheer Brittany up, referring to the pet "snake" that Brittany had bought her a few Christmas's before when she had found out her dad wasn't coming back.

"Come upstairs and see your Christmas present!" Brittany said as she hauled a still tearful Santana up the stairs and led her over to a brown box with a ribbon tied to the top. "It's your snake!"

Frankly, Santana was a little afraid. She didn't really want a snake, she had just said so to look tough and maybe annoy her parents a little. Her hands shook a bit as she untied the ribbon, and peered fearfully in the box waiting for a cobra to jump out at her. Instead, looking up at her was a tiny little turtle.

"Um… Britts, this isn't a snake," Santana said confused, but relieved. If anyone could have caught a snake and kept it in a cardboard box it would have been Brittany. Santana would have to remember to tell her when she was joking about things and when she wasn't because from Brittany's point of view, it must have looked like she really wanted a snake.

"It is so!" Brittany said enthusiastically, "I looked at all the snakes, but they looked so sad next to this one because this was the only snake that wasn't homeless. I didn't want to get you a poor snake that couldn't afford his own house, so even though he was smaller I just had to pick this one."

Santana burst into laugher. "I love it Brittany. It's the best present ever, honestly," she said loving how much her friends face lit up when she said it, "I'm gonna call him Miguel because he reminds me of my rich old wrinkly great uncle." She picked up the 'snake' and kissed its shell.

"No," Brittany said, "Miguel and I just texted each other before. By the way, he says he wants more lettuce. I guess he likes to eat them with his dead mice and whatever else snakes eat. I texted back that that was kind of Masterchef of him but he didn't reply yet."

Brittany's mood was still flat and Santana knew she couldn't fix that. When Brittany got low, she could be low for days even after whatever had upset her was long over or even resolved. Alternatively, she could be high for days, bouncing off the walls all because she got a free ice-cream about five days ago.

"Britts," Santana sighed, "I need to know that you're with me on this. I can't lose you. The Cheerios will be great. You like dancing, it's just kind of like dancing with a whole lot of pep, which come to think of it already sounds like what you do."

"Quinn doesn't like me," said Brittany in a small voice.

Santana grinned at her. "You've got something she and I don't have right now, Britts." she said.

"What's that?" Brittany asked.

Santana pointed to Brittany's chest. As Santana's mind was reaching greater heights of maturity, to her great distress her body wasn't. She was as flat-chested as ever. Contrary to this, while Brittany's mind remained virtually unchanged, her body was aging up faster than anyone in their class. The boys were looking at Brittany now, they knew she was a little weird sure, but looks and boobs were apparently more important than eccentricities.

"Oh those? I hate those." Brittany wrinkled her nose.

"I don't," Santana said, then felt her face heating up. She wished she hadn't said anything.

Brittany didn't notice in the slightest. "They make my clothes look weird. I prefer my body the way it was before the big pepperoni cupcakes came."

Santana almost choked. "They're called boobs, Brittany," she told her.

Brittany shrugged. "You can have them if you want them," she offered.

"I… can?" Suddenly the room felt a lot smaller. Santana needed some air... or maybe even a cold shower.

"Sure. I'll make them out to you," Brittany said reaching for a piece of paper and beginning to make out a cheque, "desk of Brittany S. Pierce. Is S spelled right San?"

"Yes," Santana choked.

"Okay, pay to the order of Santana Lopez, two pepperoni boob cupcakes," she announced and signed it drawing a few hearts beside Santana's name and giving it to Santana who clutched it to her own front, not sure where to look.

"How long do you think it will take for the order to transfer?" Brittany asked impatiently, when Santana didn't immediately speak.

"Um… I'm not sure Britt. But I'll put this under my pillow," Santana assured her.

"Noooo!" Brittany shrieked and this time Santana was the one who nearly fell off the couch, "that's where the tooth fairy goes. I don't want her to find it."

"In my jewelry box then?" asked Santana after surveying the room.

Brittany nodded and Santana relaxed, tucking the piece of paper away and then pulled Brittany into her arms, careful to not touch her 'cupcakes'. Brittany burrowed into her, her feet dangling off the side of the couch. It had been a difficult conversation for them both and Brittany was still worked up about it, and Santana wasn't faring much better.

Realizing she was clutching Brittany too tightly, Santana loosened her hold so Brittany could lean back into her further and find a comfortable spot.
When she finally stopped wriggling and had pressed herself against Santana's incredibly flat chest, Santana tightened her hold on her again.
She was just relieved that no conversation has transpired where Brittany had decided Santana's boobs were like pancakes.

Santana tickled her. "Hey, I got you something too. It's not as good as pepperoni cupcakes but I didn't want us to start high school without them," she said and pulled two necklaces and two bracelets out of her pocket. They all were yin yang symbols in halves. "It's friendship jewelry. I couldn't decide whether I liked the bracelets or necklaces best so I sto- … so I bought both," she said covering quickly. "You see, that symbol means we're two opposite halves of the same thing. I'm the dark half, you're the light half and we complement each other."

"Oh! San! I love them, they're beautiful!" Brittany told her.

Santana helped her put them on and admired them. She loved the way they looked against Brittany's skin.

After a beat, Santana asked again, "You're with me on this Britt, you aren't going to make me do this alone are you?"

"No," Brittany said tiredly, "I would follow you anywhere. I wish things didn't have to change, that's all. But for you, I'll pretend to be out of progress and that I'm not scared of Quinn."
She closed her eyes and lowered her head back down to Santana's chest. She was moving her feet around trying to curl them around a part of Santana. They often played the feet game in class. When they couldn't hold hands they'd capture each other's feet, touching at the ankles.

Seeing Brittany was still feeling around pointing her toes like at ballet, Santana obliged, and shifted Brittany further on top of her so she could reach better. This time, however, Brittany tangled her whole leg up with Santana's instead. Santana smiled, but then frowned as she saw the tension etched into her best friends face.

Santana knew Brittany hated change, she knew that this made her unhappy, but she didn't see they had any other choice. Things were changing around them faster than Brittany could see, let alone keep up with. The scariest thing to Santana was that she was getting all these feelings. She wasn't sure if it was okay to hold Brittany like this anymore, because every time she did it she kind of wanted to kiss her.
Santana guessed that it was because she had been around Brittany too much and hadn't had as much exposure to guys as a girl needed. She hoped that Quinn would help fix that too. Maybe at the dance she would find a boy that she could kiss and then these strange feelings would go away.

Santana didn't know what she was more upset about. Was it the fact that she was clearly having wrong feelings towards her friend, or that her friend didn't seem to be having wrong feelings back?
Brittany seemed oblivious to any sort of sexual tension, in fact she seemed oblivious to anything sexual at all, and in a way this made Santana angry.
The fact that her mom wasn't here right now (and was never here) made her angry too. She hated her mom's new boyfriend. She hated her dad. She hated being alone and she hated feeling alone right now, even though her best friend was lying there, half asleep in her arms.
Santana tensed, wondering if she could carefully lay Brittany on the couch and go punch something, or even break something. She was always breaking things lately.

"San," Brittany said sleepily, seeming to feel her tense up, "did you see I used the pink crayon to write your cheque?"

Sitting in her 4th grade classroom, Brittany was bent over her desk working hard at something.

"Who is that for?" Santana asked peering over Brittany's shoulder to see what she was doing.

"That's my book report for Mr Jefferson. He yelled at me yesterday so I wrote it all in brown, but there's a little bit of blue because by the end looking at all that brown I felt sorry for him," Brittany said matter of factly. She was very particular about picking the right color for each person based on how she felt about them at the time.

"Oh. I haven't written mine yet. Hey, Brittany, why don't you ever use the pink crayon, isn't it your favorite color?" Santana asked.

"I'm saving the pink crayon, until I'm sure I love somebody. Then I'll always use the pink crayon for them."

Santana's breath hitched in her throat and she felt tears well in her eyes, her rage leaving her as quickly as it came although she knew it would be back. She hadn't noticed at the time, but come to think of it, Brittany had gotten down her box of unused pink crayons that she had been stashing in a box every time she wore every other color out and got a new pack, and she had taken a pink one out and used it. Santana knew Brittany struggled to articulate her feelings, and she knew that maybe Brittany wasn't aware of what love really was, but the sentiment still meant a lot to her. She nodded her head, her chin brushing against Brittany's hair.
The fight had gone out of her, and now Santana just wanted to sleep, exactly where she was.

She was afraid to make any sudden moves in case Brittany realized that they were falling asleep on the couch and not on their separate mattresses in Santana's room, but she knew that if she kept Brittany lying on top of her like this all night in this same position, then her arm would probably be numb by morning.

Carefully she lowered Brittany sideways, laying her head onto a pillow beside them. When she was satisfied that Brittany looked comfortable, she flattened herself out against the back of the couch, curling up against Brittany slowly and shifting closer to her until she was spooning her. She pulled a blanket over them both, congratulating herself over the fact that Brittany had barely stirred.

Brittany gave a contented sigh and Santana knew her dreams would be peacefully blank tonight, as would be her own. Santana spent most of her nights alone in the house and even though she had gotten over her fear of the dark and had stopped hiding under her bed with a torch every time any noise sounded, nighttime was still a lonely and cold kind of time for her.
But, tonight was different, she felt so warm.

After a couple of minutes Brittany stirred and Santana cringed, waiting for the game to be up, for Brittany to spring up and get ready for bed properly doing all her numerous night time routines.

Brittany surprised her when she didn't move, and instead started whispering nonsensical things, indicating her was half asleep.

"Is this real life San?" Brittany asked. It was the only sentence that seemed coherent even it made no sense. Or maybe it did make sense. You always had to listen hard with Brittany, but in her different way, the things she said always did make sense.

It wasn't too crazy to wonder if this moment was real life, because what was happening was kind of unbelievable. Brittany had come so far with her disorder since the day they'd met and Santana was so proud.

"Yeah Britts, this is real life," she whispered back softly into her hair, rubbing her shoulder lightly until she fell completely asleep. In that moment, she wished that they could stay like this forever. High school and Quinn could wait just a little longer, right? Santana had a gnawing feeling that the minute she and Brittany broke apart tomorrow morning this would be a memory and this Santana lying here right now would be a part of her she would never be able to get back. Santana spent the night watching Brittany sleep, clutching her to her body like it was their last night on earth.

A/N Three random things: (if this amuses anyone I'll keep doing this)

1. I still recall her saying "I don't have a dad, remember?" it was a sentence so loaded with pain that it echoes and haunts me even today. No matter who you are and even if you were me, you couldn't have missed those feelings - they were that strong. I've never heard anything like it since.

2. I still have my yin yang necklace.

3. Sometimes she still breaks things when she's mad, but never to hurt anybody. I think it's okay to hate on the kitchenware sometimes. She has rage.