The Road to Unicorn

by RainManWithBoobs

No act of kindness, no matter how small, is ever wasted, for everyone you will ever meet is fighting some kind of battle that you can't see. Brittana.

17. Highways And Byways

Guestfrombefore - Of course I remember you! I got your first review while I was trying to finish writing Chapter 14, and it was just one of those days, like I'd write a line and then I'd burst into tears because sometimes reliving this stuff, even the little things that seem insignificant (or especially them) is so hard. I know I can't get too worked up or I will blank out like in the last chapter, but I really wanted to finish it, so it was like this weird day and night of writing, crying and meditating, and wondering why I do this to myself. Anyway, my point is, I got your first review in the middle of that, and it just reminded me of the big picture and exactly why I 'do this to myself' because doing this has allowed me to process everything with other people's support so I'm not alone. I also didn't know that it was possible for anyone but Santana and Kurt to actually like and understand me, and I had no idea before I started how much I needed to know that. I name everything and everyone so I was trying to name you, and so far I came up with brightside 'cause you made me see the bright side that day, but maybe I've got to keep thinking or you're happier just being called guest. :) Either way, I'm always glad to hear from you.

Miara848 – I just wanted to tell you that you're so adorable with your comments *hugs* and that Santana and Brittany totally start making a birthday pie instead of a birthday cake (like I was originally going to write) in honor of you in this chapter. :)

sadpanda15 – I think you're the first person apart from me that has ever used the word incredible to describe my Santana, and it makes me so, so happy. :) I feel like it helps the universe balance all the insults that have been thrown at her a little bit more, because even her friends called her 'bitch' or 'slut' or... much worse. They mostly just called me a 'retard.' Anyway, thanks so much for saying I could one day think of getting published, wow!

Okay, I wish I had time to reply to everyone, but I don't, and if I said everything I wanted to this page would stretch on forever, so I better just do some general comments.

-Katie- I wanted to give you all an update on Katie and I as we are now, because she generated a fair bit of interest and I don't think she'll fit into the end chapters where I bring everything up to date. She's in her senior year now at the same school I went to, and I am so proud of her. I have a lot of admiration for her steady practicality and I'm convinced that she could do anything she ever wanted to do, and in the same way, I think she has recently come to admire my mad professor creativity, it's just, we never have much to say to each other because we don't seem to speak the same language or like the same things. But, that doesn't mean we don't love each other.

Sometimes we have good moments. Recently during the production of Chapter 10, she came home ranting that her English teacher was 'the world's biggest douchebag' and she had actually failed her on her last short story, but had given her a chance to do it again. Usually she never fails anything, so it was strange and I was sad because I knew how she felt. She's the same teacher I was specifically talking about who failed me on my Othello/Cats short story and... everything else I ever wrote. Katie was upset and I'm not used to her being down on herself. She tried to start writing it, but couldn't. So, I offered to write it for her and see if I could get her an A since I'm kind-of-sort-of maybe a writer now. I worked so hard on that 1500 words, putting everything I had into it, and Katie said it was really amazing. She submitted the draft, and it was clear in the comments that Mrs D. didn't even understand the plot and it wasn't even that complex. So we 'dumbed it down' and in the end it looked so bad that if I posted anything like that here, you'd all ask me if I'd been smoking some of Puck's weed. Then, it got an A. She didn't feel bad anymore after that. We rolled our eyes and ate icecream.
She will graduate, and they will play 'The Scientist' by Coldplay during the end procession because they do that every year. And then after, I will make sure she goes wherever she wants to go, if I have to drag her there myself. I get that she's reluctant to leave me still, but it's time. I've saved some money up for her, it's not a lot, but when I give it to her she will have no excuse. I think I'll be so happy to see her go, because she deserves it, and I hope she will send me a million pictures of herself living her life to the fullest held back by nothing or no-one. I think I'll be so happy about that, that I won't even cry when I see her off, until she's gone. Then, I will cry a lot.

-Mercedes - She got some love too, which is great. I wish she was real, because being around an open, powerful woman like her who would have likely been quite motherly towards us, would have been so great for Santana and I, and may have actually changed this story(?). I'll try and find a place where her awesome presence won't actually rewrite the story but I don't know if I can sneak her in. :(

-Puck- He got a mention too I think, and I will just say that I would not consider anything a happy ending if it still had Puck or another guy still in it.

The 2nd episode of Season 4 provided me with much fodder that I could work in with this chapter, and even one or two parallels that I might use later on. It's been a long time since Glee has given me much useable material for this, so I am super happy. :)

I can't say the same for the 3rd episode though… ugh.

Also, incoming adult stuff, I was going to tone it down a bit… but then I didn't. o.O

---

Chapter 17 – Highways and Byways

Brittany S. Pierce, Present

Legend has it, that a unicorn can only be tamed by a virgin.

The scholars say the word 'virgin' apparently means more than one thing. It's about purity and chastity, but it was never clear whether it was of the mind or body. Being everything good in this miserable, stinking world would probably about cover the requirements for being a 'virgin' of the mind.

Too fierce and swift to be captured by hunters, the beautiful and rare unicorn could only be lured by the gentle virgin as she sat alone under a tree in the forest.

Perhaps it was the virgin's self possession and independence that attracted the unicorn, but in any case, as soon as the unicorn lay her head into the virgin's lap, that symbolized the marriage and the taming between the two.

Leonardo Da Vinci wrote: "The unicorn, through its intemperance and not knowing how to control itself, for the love it bears to fair maidens forgets its ferocity and wildness; and laying aside all fear it will go up to a seated damsel and go to sleep in her lap."

Lewis Carroll had his own take on unicorns. When Alice met a unicorn in 'Alice through the looking glass' neither Alice nor the unicorn could believe their eyes, believing each other to be only legends.

"Well, now that we have seen each other," said the Unicorn, "if you'll believe in me, I'll believe in you. Is that a bargain?"

"If you like," said Alice.

Those things are all I ever wanted for us. I wanted Santana and I to believe in each other, and I wanted her to stay away from the hunters, and to trust me enough to lay her head in my lap at the end of the day, so she could rest and not have to be so strong anymore.

---

Brittany S. Pierce, age 17

"No, Britt, I want the big sister," Santana said, then shook her head when she saw which measuring cup Brittany's hand moved too. "Um, okay, maybe the grandma then?"

Brittany moved to the shortest one and nudged it towards her.

"What? How is the grandma the shortest? What about the little sister… or what about the tiny baby cup, wouldn't they be shorter?"

"There aren't babies in this set, and little sisters are tall," Brittany announced, moving the large 'little sister' measuring cup towards her.

Santana grabbed it as she passed it to her, relieved. That had been the one she was after and they could be here all night before she ever figured out Brittany's height ordering system that she used to name the cookware.

It was 12am, and about fifteen minutes ago she had realized with a sickening thump in her heart that Brittany's birthday had gone by and she had completely forgotten.

They'd spent the evening watching Buffy together. Brittany had fallen asleep in her lap so it was only Santana watching the title character turn nineteen in the episode. Seeing Brittany was dead to the world, she had switched the episode off just before that British guy got his Fyarl demon on. As soon as the screen went black she had realized that Brittany's birthday also had to be coming soon. Then, with a start, she'd realized what day it really was. For that matter, she'd realized what month it was. Brittany had never said a word to her about missing her birthday. Time never really stops, no matter what, Santana thought. Everything just goes on without me.

Feeling as guilty as she ever had, she had shaken Brittany awake and told her that she was going to make her a cake right now, and Brittany could help if she wanted to, or she could stay asleep, she didn't mind. Brittany had raved incoherently about apples for a few minutes, and Santana amended her choice to a birthday apple pie instead, tickling her until she got a better response. The sleep finally clearing from her eyes, Brittany had then understood that this meant she got to cook with Santana, and had jumped to her feet, instantly full of energy.

So far, neither of them had any idea as to what they were doing.

"Here's the babies," Brittany said grabbing a measuring spoon, "did you need them?"

"Wow, Britt, how does your little family keep up with feeding all these babies?" Santana asked, looking at the array of measuring spoons, and humoring her.

"Well, they all work in the food industry, maybe they steal a little on the side," Brittany deadpanned.

Santana couldn't for the life of her figure out if she was serious. She got back to measuring out flour and sugar while she watched Brittany sit and play with her family of cups. "We'll measure everything out first, then we'll put it all together all in one hit," she said, "I think that's how my Abuela did it."

"Abuela can hold the egg," Brittany informed her solemnly, pushing the 'Abuela cup' towards her.

"Are there any boys in your family, Britts?" Santana asked, noticing that Brittany kept clutching the tallest one. She wondered if it could be the father.

"Hmm," Brittany hummed, then brandished the egg beater like a weapon, "here's one."

"Oh my god! Put that down, you'll hurt yourself," Santana said nervously. Brittany could never be trusted with stuff like that. She hadn't allowed her near her hair straightener ever since she'd tried to give it a bath, and she hadn't allowed her near her gardener's shears ever since she'd tried to imitate Edward Scissorhands, and had tried to turn their shrub on their front lawn into Channing Tatum. Santana had to admit the likeness wasn't bad. She'd have done a request for Sarah Michelle Gellar if Brittany hadn't almost chopped her own arm off.

Brittany sighed. Santana never let her near any sharp stuff, electrical appliances or shrubs and she couldn't imagine why. Maybe she didn't want to share her toys because she was an only child. Brittany imagined that the shrub in particular was laughing at her, she bet it didn't want to share Santana around either, and was totally keeping a tally of how much extra time Santana spent with it when Brittany wasn't around.

"We don't need any boys then, Britt," Santana said putting the beater away.

Brittany grabbed the tallest cup she'd been holding before, and made it join handles with a smaller one that was from a different set, made with darker plastic.

"So, is that you and me?" Santana asked, smirking.

"How did you know?" Brittany asked, her eyes going wide.

Santana shrugged. "Lucky guess."

Brittany hummed to the cup with the darker plastic, and then eventually added her own lyrics to the tune.

You realize you're the perfect size,

Wanna put all that I got in you,

'cause baby, we gon' make pies (and mark them with 'B')

.

I'll have my own Master Chef show

And when you see my apron you'll stare

'cause on 'Cooking a la Brittany'

There's nothing under there (under there)

.

Gonna pull out a plum, with my finger or my thumb,

Don't want no sour flour, or no salt on my tongue,

When we're makin' love, baby, it's my recipe,

And when I give you sugar, then you're sweet to me.

.

My cup, my cup!

Sayin' what's up to my cup, my cup…

Santana dumped the entire cup of sugar she had just poured out over Brittany's head, giggling. Brittany was the queen of silly songs, but Santana had never thought she'd get serenaded this way. She'd been re-imagined as a sour patch kid, a raisin and a teapot in the past, the latter during Brittany's Beauty and the Beast phase, but until now, never as a measuring cup. If she has to see me in inanimate objects, why can't I be like a pair of shoes or something to her or something cool? Maybe as like a pair of boots or something, because I have a pair of those that totally have personality, she thought.

Brittany shook herself off, smiling at her, sugar going everywhere as she flicked her hair around. "I can't get this song quite right," Brittany said, "maybe I'm working with the wrong kind of cup. Maybe I should use like… a jug or something."
She pulled at her clothes as she dusted off some more sugar. She had thought really hard about what she was going to wear to Santana's place, but they had ended up in pajamas so quickly that she kind of felt silly about it now.

"My jugs, my jugs?" Santana questioned, raising an eyebrow and watching to see if Brittany would get it, "that totally sounds more like a song about my boobs."

Brittany shrieked with laughter. "Oh, I can write a song about your boobs, watch me! I'll call it The Cupcake Song."

"Oh no you won't!" Santana said, charging at her from the other side of the countertop. She was self conscious about the size of her boobs, and she always had been. She didn't want them brought into the spotlight and added to Brittany's top fifty album hits.

Brittany saw her coming, and thought she looked more like a rhino than a unicorn in that moment, but it was only an illusion.

Santana hadn't even made impact, when in her excitement, Brittany lost balance of her own accord and stumbled forwards.

Not colliding with her at the point she thought she would have, Santana's momentum was thrown, and she knocked both of them over, until they lay sprawling on the kitchen floor, Santana lying half on top of Brittany.

"Are you alright, Britt?" Santana asked anxiously, immediately needing to check she hadn't crushed her to bits. She wasn't usually such a klutz. Usually she could steady both herself and Brittany in situations like this.

Brittany nodded. Even more so than she had before, Santana treated her like she was so fragile, especially after that night at Finn's house. It was sweet of her, but she didn't like Santana getting worried for her all the time.

"Don't get up," she said softly, feeling Santana scramble to get off her.

"Yeah?" Santana asked almost shyly, lying her head back down on Brittany's chest.

"Yeah," Brittany confirmed, a bit surprised that she stayed. She wrapped her arms around Santana and shut her eyes. There were songs playing in her head, not about cupcakes, but about other things.

Santana licked some of the sugar off her arm and Brittany giggled. She was totally going to get all sticky, if she wasn't already.

Santana kept going, snaking her tongue over Brittany's neck and then getting some off her nose.

"When I give you sugar, then you're sweet to me," Brittany murmured.

A tiny giggle burst from Santana's throat. "Not as sweet as you," she told her, embarrassed that she'd really just said that.

Brittany's mind worked overtime. She loved it when Santana touched her. It felt so different to when other people touched her. It was like Santana was a butterfly, and when she touched her, she became a butterfly too and they fluttered their wings at each other and that created this feeling.

She remembered their moment in the pool, before everything had gone wrong, and wondered if they could go back to that, right back to that almost perfect moment that had gone so wrong, where they had been underwater, and Santana had wanted to be touched, and had guided Brittany's fingers inside her bikini bottom. She remembered the hunger in her eyes, as if those kinds of flutters meant more to her than anything in the world.

Her thoughts interrupted, she felt Santana begin biting her, nipping her gently with her teeth in all the places she had licked. Brittany felt her body shudder at the sensation.

"Santana?"

"Yeah, Britt?" Santana said, leaning over her and making the tiniest bites at her earlobe. It was super sugary there. She was going to get cavities.

I love you. "Um, do I taste nice?" Brittany said.

"The best," Santana assured her, "and better than our lack of birthday pie at this rate." She moved her head sideways and ran her tongue over Brittany's bottom lip before taking it between her teeth and pulling it into her mouth.

"Mhhhf nna nnnneeeonne," Brittany told her, her speech unintelligible around Santana's mouth.

Santana released her. "Is that your own secret language, Britt?" she asked smirking.

If I had a secret language, I'd say I love you, Brittany thought.
"I said, I don't need a pie or cake or anything, Santana. It is okay that you forgot. There was… stuff," Brittany said vaguely, not wanting to ruin the moment with the mention of what happened, but still wanting to let Santana know it was okay. She never wanted Santana to feel guilty about being so sad that she forgot things.
She leaned up and pressed her nose into Santana's, and was rewarded when Santana's tongue came all the way into her mouth. Santana tasted a bit like she had just eaten an entire candyfloss machine, and Brittany loved it.

"Gonna go into a sugar coma," Santana whispered to her, pausing for breath.

"That sounds so awesome," Brittany said, imagining a magical place in her mind that they might go to, where gummy bears were the evil dictators oppressing everyone to float on candy clouds and be happy forever. She'd like to go there with Santana, and she knew just how she could get there.

She wasn't too sure exactly how this worked, but Santana got the message when she saw her hand creeping down lower against her shorts, finding its way into Santana's pocket.

Without a word they got up, and Santana switched off the lights so they were in complete darkness, their entire surroundings pitch black. Brittany felt scared at first, because she knew how high Santana's ceilings were; every time she stepped into a room she always wondered if she was going to lose gravity and float all the way up to the ceiling, and now the lights were switched off, she wondered if she already had.

Brittany felt disoriented and lost until Santana's fingers brushed hers and locked around her wrist. It has to be dark, Brittany thought. She never wants to see me when we do this.

"Chair, step, step, door," Santana said to her softly, whispering to her as she guided her back to the kitchen. Brittany thought it was so amazing that Santana could see in the dark. She was like a cat.

When they reached the counter, Santana patted it. "Sit up here, Britt," she said.

Brittany didn't know why she wanted her up there, but feeling Santana's hands circle her waist, she obliged her and jumped up, drawing her legs apart so she could squeeze Santana in between her knees.

Santana's hands had never left Brittany's waist and she rubbed them up and down against Brittany's sides, her fingers occasionally getting caught in the fabric of Brittany's pajama top. She moved down lower to Brittany's thighs.

"Do you want to take these off Britt?" she said pulling at the shorts with the little cartoon ducks on them.

"Yeah," Brittany said, nodding. She lifted herself up on her hands, while Santana pulled them off. Now she had better access, Santana started massaging Brittany's thighs, working her way upwards, noting how Brittany trembled the closer she got to her center.

"It feels like I have to pee, only I don't," Brittany said confused by the sensation. If she hadn't floated up to the ceiling before, she was sure she had now. It was like her body had this urge, or this call for some kind of release. The closest she could describe it, was like that moment when you really had to sneeze, or if you really had to pee. It was all Kiki's fault.

Santana rubbed small circles as close as she dared, then lay a hand on Brittany's underwear as if in defeat. "I don't want to ruin you," she said. Brittany was too pure to be touched by her. Santana's own first time had made her feel dirty, and like she had lost a part of herself. She could never do that to Brittany. She also wasn't sure if Brittany could really handle going further, and she didn't want to upset her.

"I like this," Brittany said simply.

"You like watching me pour my cereal," Santana muttered, keeping her hand on Brittany's crotch, wondering where her sweet spot would be. She didn't seem that wet, but new things always overwhelmed and confused her, so this didn't really surprise her very much.

"Yes, I like that too," Brittany agreed.

"Are you like, attracted to me," she said barely audibly, kind of hoping Brittany would hear her, and not at the same time.

Brittany placed her hand over Santana's, and manipulated her fingers to start drawing patterns again. "Yes," she said, leaning her forehead down into Santana's. "Kiki is very attracted to you, and so am I," she said honestly.

Santana smirked. She remembered when Brittany had named her vagina. It was some time after Cheer Camp when they were fourteen. Brittany had said that that after her alien experience, she was convinced that part of her had a mind of its own, and therefore that part needed a name. Apparently Kiki was also a descendant of royalty and spoke in a British accent. She referred to her ever so often, telling her what Kiki was thinking, and sometimes complaining that Kiki couldn't watch movies with them because she couldn't see through all those layers of clothes. Santana didn't think much of it. For all she knew Brittany probably really pitied her vagina and its lack of getting a say in everything.

On the other hand, it's really hard to know with Brittany, she thought frowning. It's hard to figure out what she's really thinking when she keeps talking about just wanting to smell my armpits and stuff. Maybe it was pheromones, or the fact that I keep wearing that Hello Kitty deodorant she bought me, but I don't know if that actually counts as attraction.

"How would you know if you're attracted to me," she asked finally, an edge of defensiveness creeping into her voice.

Brittany thought hard about it. She had heard that being sexually attracted to someone, meant that you looked at them, and then you had to want to take all their clothes off. It was all about intent, and like, your body took over your head and forced a new action thought bubble over it, like in those Sims games that she never played anymore because last time she turned it on, her Santana-Sim had got bit by a vampire and the Brittany-Sim had just stood there, and she wasn't over that yet.

Brittany didn't understand why that one thought was so important, and why when other people felt like that, their other thoughts always fell away and left them with just that one thing. Right now, her body said that it liked Santana touching her, but her mind was much more open.

Sexual attraction seemed so important to everyone at school. Other people's attraction had ruled Santana's own life, and she had felt like she had to give in to other people's intentions, because if she didn't, they would label her as 'frigid' or 'a loser.'

It was like all those guys at school looked at Santana, and then only one highway opened up in their minds, and that always led to sex.

Why does that highway, always have to be one-way? Brittany wondered. Didn't that mean there was only one choice. What if it wasn't the right choice, especially for the other person that you were driving across that highway?

Why were some people always dragged along that road when they didn't even want to go, they were just there because the other person needed to get there? Didn't that mean you were looking at them as a prop instead of as a person, like what you wanted was more important than they wanted, like their feelings didn't even matter so long as you reached your own destination?

In Brittany's mind, there were a million highways she could take when she looked at Santana. Maybe, her body urged her to go in certain directions, but her heart was her only compass.

What she felt for Santana right now wasn't all about sex, it was about Santana and being close to her. If the best way to be close to her was for them to have sex, then that was what she wanted. If the best way to be close to her was to listen to her talk then that was what she wanted instead. There were a million highways she and Santana could take together, and she loved every single one, so she'd let Santana draw the map, because all the highways still led to her.

There's nothing better than just loving her, no matter what she's doing, be it eating jello or reading to me or even having her hand where it is right now, Brittany thought. Just so long as we're together. Sometimes those little winding roads to the side that other people ignore can lead to the most beautiful of unexplored places. Sometimes you had to forget the main highways and take the byways, because it is the little things that nobody knows about people that can really help you set them apart in your mind, and in your heart.

"I just want you," Brittany told her, sincerely, unable to communicate her thoughts to words any better than that.

Santana sighed. Brittany's so much better than she used to be, but she's still pretty vague all the time, she thought, resting her forehead back against hers, glad when Brittany automatically moved into a position where she didn't have to stand on her toes to reach her. Being kind of vague was hardly her fault, and Santana knew that she was just as vague back, if not worse, especially when she gave Brittany mixed messages. These days, it seemed like they always ended up 'accidentally' touching each other. Santana was so confused. Part of her wanted so desperately for this to be real so that she and Brittany could grow into something great, but the rest wished that this was just a phase that she'd grow out of because that would make everything so much easier.

Feeling Santana's discontent, Brittany wriggled away from her. She didn't want Santana to stop touching her, but she knew that right now, Santana needed her more. It felt more right to be the one to make Santana feel like this, and show her how. They had to take the road that Santana needed.
I'll take you back to where we were, and this time, I won't need to come up for air because we're on land. You be the mermaid, and I'll be your prince, she thought.

She slipped down from the counter and hesitantly picked Santana up, holding her flush against her for a moment before setting her down on the counter, feeling about to get her bearings in the dark.
"I'll show you?" she told her, as if seeking confirmation.

Santana nodded, breathing raggedly as if some emotion was tearing through her. She hadn't expected the sudden turn of events. Brittany was so unpredictable, she had no idea what went through her head sometimes. Santana felt like she was falling very suddenly down a rabbit hole, no clue where she was going, and even less control over where she landed. Feeling as if some unseen force was controlling her, she slipped off her own shorts, and then after a beat her underwear, catching Brittany's hand as she did and running her fingers over the elastic before they dropped to her ankles, so she would know what she was doing. Brittany couldn't see her in the dark, but she could feel her.

"You can touch me," Santana said, guiding Brittany's hand to her center.
"Use your finger." She angled herself forward so she was barely on the edge of the counter, her knees locked around Brittany who was partly holding her up and supporting her weight.

Brittany hesitated, then ever so slowly she slid her finger closer, just barely breaking through. Santana shivered, and gripped her shoulder with one hand and guided her hand in further with the other. Brittany thought it seemed wrong to be touching Santana like this without kissing her, so she tilted her head and pressed her mouth to Santana's, her fingers rocking further inside all on their own with the movement. Santana gasped, and she moved her head forwards and backwards making Brittany move with her, her hand in motion following suite. It reminded Brittany of waves on the beach, rolling over each other, and coming and going with the tide, some waves coming on stronger than others and others weaker when she lost her rhythm or the build up of momentum decreased. Brittany had been given a ride on a surfboard once, and riding Santana's undertow now was kind of the same as riding the current of the waves, except that time it had been under her feet, not her hand.

Santana felt the tension inside of her come so tight she thought she would snap, but something else inside her was stronger. She crossed her arms over her chest and gave a small whine, tears coming to her eyes, blurring her vision.

"San?" Brittany questioned, breathlessly, stilling her movements.

"Don't stop," Santana said, rocking into her, her posture hunching over.

There was a small sliver of light coming in from the next room, and when Santana moved into it, Brittany could see her face, contorted with pain and intense concentration.

"You're not 'dancing' with me, are you? Is it because I'm hurting you?" Brittany asked worriedly, her voice trembling on the word 'hurting.'

"No, no, do it faster, deeper," Santana said wrapping her arms around herself tighter, the tears coming faster.

It felt like she was stuck in the middle, in the space between lost and found which wasn't much of a place at all.
Brittany wasn't hurting her. She was giving her that look she always gave her, like she was her whole world, and that stopped her from losing herself like she always did during sex. It stopped her from slipping into the darkest crevice of her mind where she was present, but not really there.
Yet, something held her back. She wasn't lost, but she still couldn't feel what she wanted to feel. She felt stuck and numb in the place in between. So where was here?
Why can't I feel? she thought desperate to bring about that perfect moment.

Brittany obeyed her, thrusting her finger in further and then pulling it back, but not all the way out. She found when she touched a certain spot, Santana breathed in deep, and shook like a leaf in the breeze, but then the tears came faster. Did everyone cry when they had sex. Was that how it all worked? she wondered.

Santana was only getting more and more worked up. Her sobs were audible now, and constant as if they were being forced out of her by every movement of Brittany's hand. She was trembling so much that she was making Brittany shake too. Brittany knew this was fast turning into one of Santana's earthquakes, though she couldn't figure out what had been the trigger.
She hesitated.

"Don't stop, Britt," Santana kept begging her, "keep going, please keep going." She was almost hysterical now. She never thought it would be like this with Brittany.
Every time she had been touched like this before, there were always the few moments where her body screamed at her to make them stop, before she could completely shut down into a pleasant escape. She couldn't figure out what was happening to her now. It was like she was so used to touch feeling bad, or not meaning anything, that she couldn't change it now when it mattered so much.

Brittany felt her own tears come into her eyes. This didn't feel right. Something was wrong with Santana and she was making it worse, so why did Santana want her to keep going?

"I'm going to stop and hug you now, honey," Brittany told her, unable to see her like this for any longer. This was so intense. Brittany felt like a million dwarves had anvils, and were pounding them all into her head, trying to make her lose it. She tried to force the panic away. She had to be strong for Santana.

"No!" Santana forced out, trying to stop Brittany from moving her hand, "I can do this!"

Brittany gently pried her away, the action being met with a hysterical wave of tears.

The moment they broke contact, it was like the world stopped moving, just for a second. Santana's tears abated, then stopped so suddenly that it shocked Brittany, stealing the breath from her lungs. There was a dead silence.

"I've got to go, I've got to leave," Santana said without moving, looking to Brittany confused, as if she could show her how to leave the room and get out of the house.

Where does she want to go? Brittany thought.
"It's past midnight San," she said gently, and this is your house.

"That's never stopped me before," Santana said quietly, "I don't stay, after. I never stay. My thoughts might catch up with me if I stay."

Brittany felt cold and sick inside. She'd obviously done something very wrong. Brittany felt like she had to be just as bad as the guys at school.

"I'm not letting you leave. But I'll go if you really want me to," she said twisting her hands together.

What sets me apart from the guys at school? she wondered. Is there anything if I still make her feel like that?

Santana hid her face in her hands, turning away from Brittany, a curtain of her hair separating them. She bit her lip and exhaled softly trying to get her breathing under control. She was so embarrassed. Brittany probably thought she was such a loser after freaking out like that on her. She wanted to hide herself away forever.

When Santana didn't tell her what to do, Brittany felt confused. Santana always told her what to do. "Do you really want me to go?" she asked her. She felt at a complete loss, having no idea what to do next. She had just made Santana cry when she'd touched her, and now maybe she wasn't responding to her because she was angry about it. Maybe she really didn't want to see her right now, and she was supposed to go.

Santana shrugged her shoulders slightly. She'd leave the decision up to Brittany. She couldn't remember the last time she'd done that. Brittany never knew if she was coming or going or what she wanted to do, and had always needed guidance. She couldn't give her that now. She couldn't give her anything, because right now she had nothing left to give.

Taking a few steps back and crossing the room, Brittany tentatively placed her hands on the doorknob as if she might go, then ran back to Santana, pulling Santana's face towards hers and brushing the pads of her fingers across her cheek to wipe away a stray tear. My heart is my only compass.

"I'll sleep on the floor tonight, San, if you want. But I won't leave you alone," she told her, making up her own mind, "I'll just sit near you, so you know I'm here."

When Santana didn't react, she placed her palms face down on Santana's thighs, intending to pull her off the counter and get her to bed.

Harsh sobs suddenly tore through Santana. She had been so afraid Brittany might leave, which had made her realize that that wasn't at all what she wanted. She didn't want to be alone tonight. There was no escaping what she felt this time. She couldn't go and sleep with someone who would hurt her enough to blank this all out. She couldn't go upstairs into the bathroom and hurt herself, opening an old scar. Those things were in the past now.

She wanted to be better than that, it was just she didn't know how. How do you stop feeling like this without hurting yourself, she wondered.

As if she knew what was on her mind because it was perhaps on hers too, Brittany rubbed her fingers over one of Santana's old scars and bent down and kissed it. It was the most intimate of gestures. This is the closest I've ever allowed anyone, Santana realized, as Brittany's lips lingered on her upper thigh, feeling for scars and kissing them as she found them. She felt all the pain and poison leak out with Brittany's kisses. She placed her hands on Brittany's head, running her fingers through her hair, and for a moment Brittany's head rested in her lap.

Realizing she wasn't going to fight her now, Brittany straightened up, intent on moving her. "Jump, San," she joked, holding her arms out. Santana shuffled forward, her knees resting on Brittany's hips.

Brittany lifted Santana the rest of the way off the counter, locking her arms around her in a bear hug, and carrying her across the room, navigating as best she could to find the couch. She paused, then lowered them both into it. Santana's still naked body faced into hers, her knees only lightly grazing the couch.

"Talk to me?" she asked, rubbing her fingers down the soft hair on Santana's neck. She was so tense. She felt her pulse. It beat steadily into her hand. It always comforted her to do that, just to feel the proof that Santana was still here.

"I couldn't… I couldn't, I'm so ashamed," Santana stammered, biting on her bottom lip as if to hold back another sob from escaping.

"I know, and it's okay, it's not your fault, San," Brittany reassured her, embracing her and squeezing her tightly.

"I went nowhere. But I didn't want to go nowhere," Santana babbled as if a dam had burst inside her.
"I wanted to like it with you. But everything still held me back. I couldn't even be good at this with you Britt," she cried. "I always thought that if I ever did it with you, I'd be so much better, because anything with you could only be a good thing. But I don't know how to feel good things. I don't know why I'm being like this. If I really can't even do this with you, then I really must be broken. And now you'll hate this too and never want to do it again, especially not with me," she rushed out, all in one breath, her chin quivering.

It was then that Brittany finally understood what was really happening. It wasn't that Brittany had been bad or done the wrong thing, it was that Santana had been used and forced to take so many highways in the wrong direction, that she had broken down some time ago. She had been broken that day in the pool as well, and it would never have gone well, even if Brittany hadn't needed to breathe. Santana was running on empty now, unable to shake everything off. Someone had to take her back, right back to the start and help her begin again.

"Are you like a carousel horse, San?" she asked.

"Hmm?" Santana asked her, fat tears still rolling down her cheeks.

"I feel sad about carousel horses. They're stuck. They've got to go round and round all day when someone tells them too, and let just anybody ride them until their paint chips. They go to all these towns and cities and see beautiful things, but they never get to go anywhere, except round and round, same direction every time. They must be so tired. I tried to save one once, it was the only unicorn standing there with all the other horses. I tried to pull her off, but the ticket seller guy yelled at me."
Brittany frowned. "Are you like that unicorn? Are you stuck going round and round, but frozen in one position, and is that why you can't be happy?"

Santana blinked, her heart thudding against her chest. She had never felt so understood in all her life. "Yes," she uttered in a tight, cramped whisper.

You're like a merry go round horse stuck in the middle of a highway, Brittany thought.

"It's going to be okay, San," Brittany promised her, combing her fingers through her hair. Sometimes, people just really need to hear that, she thought.

"It is?" Santana asked, snuggling into her, in that moment placing everything she had into those words of reassurance. She was used to always being the one to protect her, which made these moments where Brittany treated her like this so rare and special. Brittany was holding her so close now, making long soft strokes down her back as if she wasn't completely disgusted with how she had reacted, and that too reassured her of so much.

"Yeah, I know it is. We'll do this right," Brittany said trying to find the right words. "I'll help you. I'll find out how to pull you off the carousel so you can begin again, and go back to the start," she told her, feeling Santana's hot tears soak through her shirt. In Disney movies, it was always a kiss that could bring people back to life, she thought. It was a kiss when Snow White was poisoned, when Sleeping Beauty couldn't wake up on her own, and it was a kiss to bring back Ariel's voice when she lost it. Maybe if she kissed Santana enough times then she would start to be able to feel good again when she was touched.

Each kiss could be like a baby step towards doing that thing with her finger again, and practice makes perfect right?

"Promise?" Santana asked her, sniffling.

"Yes," Brittany found her pinky and hooked it together with hers, letting their joined hands rest on her chest beside Santana's head. You could never break a pinky promise, ever. It was like an oath or a vow, except way stronger.

For a moment there was only silence, interrupted by the softest of contented sighs, as Santana adjusted her position on Brittany's collarbone.

"I've got to see a therapist tomorrow," Santana said suddenly, "it was Mom's idea, she booked me in with some old guy."

"Maybe you can talk about this with him too?" Brittany suggested to her.

Santana shook her head, a lock of hair tickling Brittany's neck. "You're the only one I can talk to," she told her.

Brittany nodded, pulling her closer. That was why this was all up to her. She would start right now. She kissed her forehead as if to swear to her that she was hers to protect now. "I'll take you back to the start," she whispered in Santana's ear, "you'll see."

---

"No, Mrs Davidson," Brittany said patiently, "Bastet has been worshipped by Egyptians since the second dynasty."

"Why, yes," Mrs Davidson said surprised, "you're correct Brittany, my mistake."

Several heads were turning around to stare at Brittany now. She had been answering questions about Bastet the Egyptian cat goddess for their entire history lesson, and she'd actually been getting them all right, upstaging even the teacher. Brittany knew everyone thought she was stupid. They had always thought she was the stupidest girl in the school, and had made up more village idiot jokes around her than she could count. It was hard to not believe that they were right. Last week everyone had laughed at her because she had thought the word peninsula meant getting insurance that you bought a boy baby, not a girl one from those orphanages in Africa. It was the little moment like that, that always weighed on her.

But, when it came to her favorite topics, she knew just how much knowledge she had to contribute. If their class featured anything to do with cats, unicorns, Disney or Santana, Brittany was confident she could recite thousands of facts on those subjects, as if her brain was a sponge for those topics alone. And better yet, when any of those subjects finally came up in conversation, she always made the most of it. She liked ancient Egypt a lot, because it was kind of like the internet. Everyone wrote on walls and worshiped cats.

Brittany wanted to graduate next year so bad. And the teachers totally held that key, so she was really trying to get in good with them. She had to figure out how to present her assignments in ways the teachers liked, and it seemed easier said than done.

She couldn't write a ten thousand word essay on how Bastet was similar to Lord Tubbington, she had to write something shorter and boring and standard, and not only that, she had to write it in a boring black pens even though she preferred a world of color. It was also pointless to draw pictures of what she saw in her mind for the teacher, because she never looked at her pictures or graded them. Brittany was a visual person, but apparently it was all about getting the words and facts right, and explaining them in a way the teacher could understand, and not in her own language, rather than showing it with art.

When my mom said 'a picture tells a story of one thousand words' she was so lying, Brittany thought. Nobody here will accept a picture in place of a one thousand word essay.

Brittany was trying extra hard lately, because she knew that it was all up to her. Santana couldn't help her with all her essays anymore, there just wasn't time. Right now, Santana is having trouble writing her own essays, she thought, looking over at her friend who appeared to be in a daze. Scratch that, she looks like she's having trouble even writing her name, Brittany thought worriedly.

"Santana?" the teacher asked, intent on proving she wasn't listening, "what animal did Bastet have the head of?"

"Um…," Santana seemed to wander off for a moment and then come back. She saw the teacher looking at her.

"Was it green?" she asked seriously.

Mrs Davidson sighed. "Pay attention Santana."

"I'm t-trying," Santana whispered.

Brittany squeezed her hand under their desks. Santana's therapist had put her on meds within ten minutes of seeing her, and she seemed to be having a bad reaction to them. Brittany hoped that she would be allowed off them soon because they didn't seem to be doing her any good at all. It mostly just made her absent minded. Santana would lose track of conversations and just stop talking and walk off and do something else, forgetting the whole conversation, even that they took place at all. She spaced out all the time in class, looking the other way, seeming surprised when she realized where she was. She didn't remember if she had eaten or showered. She was getting mixed up as well, confusing similar words and names and she was having trouble stringing sentences together. She forgot all the lyrics they were learning in Glee club, and she completely forgot her previously memorized timetable, and had been seen poring over it like it was brand new.

In other words, she was turning into Brittany herself, or at least who she used to be.

Brittany swore she wasn't that person anymore, although she knew that was at least part way a lie. What was true, was that she couldn't afford to be that person anymore, not if she wanted to keep Santana safe.

Brittany had promised to protect her, so she had to at least try and do everything Santana used to do for them both. But, that was easier said than done.

---

"Where do we go now, San?" Brittany asked frowning. They were walking side by side together after school, wandering aimlessly. Brittany wasn't sure if they had cheer practice or not, and it had taken them almost an hour to even leave the school. Santana couldn't figure out how to open her locker and had only got it open because Brittany knew her locker combination better than she knew her own. However, she had no idea which books Santana needed tonight so they had spent too long trying to figure it out, before giving homework up as a lost cause.

"Huh?" Santana asked.

"Do we have cheer practice? No, wait, that was yesterday. What happens now?"

"Um," Santana said as they walked by the park, "oh, look at the ducks, Britt, they're your favorite!" She swung their hands together, a little skip in her step, not caring who saw them.

Brittany smiled at her. This was a younger and more childlike version of Santana that she hadn't seen in many years. It warmed her heart to see her this way. It marked the return of her bold, but more lighthearted younger self that stood up for them both and didn't take crap from anyone. She would follow that girl into a pit of fire.

Santana went and sat down on the park bench, her eyes unfocused again.

"Brittany? Are we going to school now?" Santana asked.

Brittany screwed up her nose. "No. I'm pretty sure we've just been there," she joked, "I doubt I was imagining the smell of mystery meat all day. It lingered on, 'til way after lunch."

"Oh," Santana said, "yeah, I remember now."

"Yeah, you threatened to stab someone in the cafeteria if they didn't give you their home brought lunch. You didn't want to share mine," Brittany pouted.

"Yeah, because you need yours, Brittsticks. You're too skinny," Santana laughed.

Brittany did an impromptu dance in the middle of the ducks, trying out something she'd seen in Happy Feet, because ducks waddled just as much as penguins did, so maybe they could tap dance too if they tried. Santana watched her for a while giggling. Brittany relaxed. Santana really did seem okay for now. She kept dancing, keeping an eye on Santana.

There was a free magic show going on to their right, with a lot of local kids scattered around the magician. He'd been doing the same show for years now.

The first time he'd advertised, Brittany and Santana had been eleven, and they had both been so excited to see him. Brittany had always loved magic, and back then, Santana had loved it too.

"Santana look!" eleven year old Brittany said, pointing at the top hat the magician had brought out. The entire show so far had revolved around a missing duckling, perhaps borrowed from one of the mother ducks at the pond. A poor college student, Trent of Trent's Tricks probably didn't have enough money to afford the customary rabbit for his show.

"San! I bet the duck is in the hat!" Brittany exclaimed, and the magician waggled his finger at her and then pulled out ten scarves instead.

"He's in there somewhere!" Brittany insisted, wandering past the audience line before Santana could stop her, and looking among the other props for the missing duckling.

"Britts!" Santana said dragging her back, seeing the magician's disapproving glare. "Come on, I think you're right. Lets just watch him. It's going to come out of his hat at any minute."

"It's going to come out of his hat, any minute!" Santana said, taking her hand and pointing, as if this was the first time they had seen the show.

Brittany didn't answer, she had her eyes on two little girls, one little blonde being dragged back from trying to look directly inside the hat by a dark haired girl with a smile that didn't quite meet her eyes, until the little blonde turned back to her and whispered something in her ear. Then, a smile lit up her whole face and she giggled, the two of them abandoning the show to chase each other around. Brittany watched them pick dandelions and blow the seeds to each other in the wind, only stopping when the little blonde was pushed over by a boy twice their size so the dark haired girl could kiss it better, her hand then being captured by the blonde so she couldn't go after him.

"Stay here and play with me, Elianah," Brittany heard her say. She could see that Elianah had a split lip and a missing tooth, most likely from her last fight defending the blonde.

"But he pushed you, Hayley, and I hate him," she heard her say back fiercely.

"But you like me more than you hate him, don't you?"

Elianah nodded.

"Stay with me then," Hayley giggled, handing her a heart shaped candy from her pocket as if that sealed the deal.

Brittany wanted to capture that moment for those girls, protect it and put it somewhere where they could always get to it. She wanted to pick the little dark haired girl up and warn her to always stay away from bad people or she'd end up getting hurt.

She turned back to the magic show. Sure enough, the duckling poked its face out a moment later, and the mother waddled up and gave Trent, a man in his late twenties now, a vicious peck on the ankle.

"Told you so," Santana announced to her playfully.

There was an openness in Santana's face that reminded Brittany so much of who she was before, of the girl that she used to steal cookies and cupcakes with, and chat to over walkie talkie's to make sure nobody else was coming so they wouldn't be caught. Back in those days, sex was nothing but an abstract concept, and neither of them could ever have foreseen that in just a few years, everything would revolve around it; that it would become all about who was getting some, who wasn't, and then what sex they could get out of Santana before she broke.

They had been so happy then, that Brittany would never have predicted that Santana would go so far just to be liked. She thought she would stay like the brave little girl on the playground who wasn't going to play the rules of everyone's games unless she liked them. Back then, she'd been the girl with so much potential, and so much to give, because she hadn't had so much taken from her yet.

These pills, whatever they were, clearly brought that side of her back, she thought watching Santana turn her back disinterestedly on one of Puck's friends that was leaning over the fence beckoning to her. Whatever these pills were, they took the hurt away, bringing her back to start again.

Brittany had fantasized so many times about this very moment. She'd wished so many times that she could build a time machine to bring Santana and her back to easier times.

Pills were a sort of time machine.

The magician packed up and left, taking the kids with him. When she saw Santana's face blank out again, Brittany came to sit beside her on a hollow log and took her hand.

"When did we get here?" Santana asked looking a little bit afraid.

Brittany kneeled in front of her and kissed her on the nose. To her surprise, Santana's arms wound around her and her fingers tangled through Brittany's hair.

Brittany lay her head in Santana's lap as she had done a few nights ago, enjoying the clear view of Santana's eyes during their intimacy. Santana had the softest of smiles on her face, and didn't seem to mind Brittany staring. The sunlight shone on both their faces, there was nowhere for either of them to hide this time, and it seemed like she didn't even mind. Brittany gazed up at her, reaching a hand up to her cheek.

"I swear you're making me so wet, Britts," Santana told her, shifting a little. "Stop being so adorable."
Giggling, she closed her eyes, to save herself from the sight.

Brittany's mouth dropped open. She wished it could be like this all the time. She wished the only reason Santana would ever not look at her when they were intimate would be because her heart was bursting with love, not because her heart was cracking at the edges with shame for what they were.

But at what cost? Brittany wondered, watching Santana kneel down on the ground and pull up the grass, strand by strand.

She wasn't herself anymore. Taking away the pain, took away nearly everything else. She seemed content, but on the whole she was empty and vacant, and so lost. She had gained so much more over the years than pain, and it wasn't right to take all that away too. Brittany figured that was how some people seemed older than others. They knew too much, and had seen too much to stay the same.

Brittany wondered if it was her place to take the pills away from her. Was it right to force all the pain back on her shoulders? There were no books on animals with facts and figures to consult. That book she'd checked out on voles and other small animals wouldn't help her now, because the answers didn't lie there. The world was too complex for that. She knew that now. She clutched at her head. Making decisions was so hard.

She had to figure this out all on her own. She kissed Santana again, feeling her respond freely in a way she never had before even when they were alone and she wasn't worried who saw. She was kissing her back like she had let go of everything in that moment, but her heart. When Brittany eventually pulled back for air, she hovered over Santana's face, watching her.

When Santana's eyes fluttered open she had that same look of apprehension all over again.

"Brittany?" she asked.

The moment she spoke, Brittany knew this couldn't continue. She would walk her home and she would have to take the meds away from her, even if it brought Santana's pain back. The choice had to be in her hands right now, because obviously Maria wasn't going to realize that the reaction her daughter was having to these pills was too strong, and most of her other friends were on harder stuff, and wouldn't see it as a problem.

It was the biggest decision she'd ever had to make by herself, but she knew she was thinking only of Santana, so it was right. She had to be the leader of them now, and take charge.

Brittany wanted her girl back, even if she was a mess sometimes, and even if meant all Santana's old issues with intimacy would surface all over again.

This wasn't the right way to go back to the start.

Brittany took her hand. "Come on honey, I'll take you home."

"Home? Is that's where we're supposed to be."

"Yes," Brittany said trying to keep her voice steady, immediately feeling her own loss. You can give the unicorn dwelling on the carousel enough magic dust to think its shackles that fallen off, and it could gallop away and be free, but then you realize the shackles are still there, she's still spinning around, except she's going so fast now that she looks frozen in time.

---

"I don't want to do this," Brittany insisted, adamantly. She rolled over on Kurt's couch and pulled at her clothes.

"Britters Britters, banana fritters," Kurt joked, "it's not that bad. Really. We're just doing this so my dad thinks that I'm not gay."

"But you are gay," Brittany said, and wrinkled her nose at his new nickname for her, pushing him away.

Kurt pulled her back. "He could walk in any minute!" he told her. "Stay in position."

Brittany scowled at him. "I don't want to be a part of making you not as awesome as you are," she insisted. "You're not being you."

"Because being me, sucks," Kurt told her. "I'm the only out gay guy in the village, and at our school, and now I'm just the gay guy at home now too, ever since Finn started spending so much time with dad."

He frowned. "Hey, about your dad… you know you've never mentioned him to me."

"Okay, I'll do it, I'll act like we make out all the time for your dad," Brittany said interrupting him and sidestepping the question. "I'm not happy about it, but I'll do it. Besides, kissing you is kind of like kissing Santana. You wear the same perfume."

There was a brief silence. Kurt opened and shut his mouth several times as if he wanted to say something.

"Can I ask you something? What do boy's lips taste like? I mean, not me. Others, like Finn," Kurt said finally, his shyness coloring his cheeks.

Nothing like hers, Brittany thought. She tastes like strawberry's, sunshine, and a candyfloss trainreck. It had been almost three weeks since Santana had allowed herself to feel something when Brittany kissed her, three weeks since Brittany had managed to take her off her medication by hiding all her pills, and three weeks since she had seen Santana smile. That last part was the worst, she had missed Santana's smile so bad...
Oh right, Kurt's waiting for me to answer, Brittany thought. She had only kissed two guys, so it wasn't like she'd done a survey. "Usually dip. Or dim sims. Or like, burgers. Finn tasted like burgers."

"So you went through with the other night then?" Kurt asked.

"We had to," Brittany sighed, "I tried to stop Santana, and it wasn't like she didn't try to stop herself. It was Coach Sue's fault really. She said we had to seduce Finn, and that we had no choice."

"Ever since Quinn Fabray got knocked up, I've been in the market for a new head cheerleader," Sue Sylvester said, eying Santana and Brittany up, not missing the subtle spark of interest in Santana's eyes.
"If you want the job, and back in my good graces, you're going to have to turn around and listen up. You're familiar with a little Glee clubber named Rachel Berry? Rachel's the kind of girl who wants things too badly. And what she really wants, is one Finn Hudson. I want you to go after him. She'll go crazy. She won't be able to stand your dating him. Humiliated, shamed, she'll have no chance but to leave the group, and without her, Schuester won't make it to Regionals. Now get out of my office before I get hungry and turn on you like the short tail shrew, a vicious predator who needs to eat up to three times of it's bodyweight in one sitting. That knocks off both of you put together, little porcelain and the big toe of one Lauren Zizes."

"And, it was just too much temptation for Santana," Brittany told him. "She's been feeling kind of out of it for ages, which means she knows that she has dropped off everyone's radar again. She wanted to be head cheerleader so bad. She kept asking me what she should do, and I didn't know what to say."

"But you promised you wouldn't do it anymore. You promised you wouldn't get with guys you don't like and let them use you," Brittany said, and started pacing, biting her bottom lip until it bled.

"I know," Santana said, "I know. But this isn't like that. It really is me using him this time. It's different, Britt, I promise."

Brittany shook her head. She didn't have words. She would never be able to pull broken down Santana off the highway if she kept doing this. Brittany vowed then and there that she wouldn't let her do this all on her own. She'd kiss Finn too, even though she knew she'd hate it.

"I'll be okay Britts, really."

"You might get sick again," Brittany said tearfully, thinking of bloody toe shoes, the ribbons stained with the crimson fluid, and of IV's and meds, and all the things that came out of Santana hurting herself and making herself 'sick.'

"I'll be fine," Santana snapped at her, then instantly softened when Brittany's eyes immediately filled with tears.
"Look Britt, I can handle this okay? And besides, we'll just go on a date with him at first, and you can kiss me if you like," Santana said, thinking of how crazy desperate Brittany had been to kiss her lately. It was like she was practicing for the kissing Olympics or something.
"We can kiss in front of guys. It's like another unwritten rule," she told her.

"We can?" Brittany asked, cheering up. Maybe if she kissed Santana enough times during their date it would be like an antidote to its effects, and nothing bad could happen.

"So how did the date go," Kurt asked.

"I don't know," Brittany frowned, "it kind of confused me."

"This food is unsatisfactory," Santana said authoritatively to the waitress. She nudged Brittany in the ribs to back her up.

"Huh?" Brittany sat up in her chair. Unsatisfactory means... not finished, Brittany thought. When I get an unsatisfactory on my dance exams, it means I have to keep practicing my steps.

"There was a mouse in mine," she said imagining that Remy (who had cooked all their food) wasn't done yet, and that the plate had been brought out to them with him still hanging over the edge of a plate chopping up onions. Brittany had seen Ratatouille, she knew mice were working in the kitchens at Breadstix, and it wouldn't be very good for business if they weren't doing their jobs.

Santana rolled her eyes. "Look she said to the waitress. I'm pretty sure you have to do what we say, and we'd like more please."

She put her hand to her forehead and leaned on the table. She had kept her word and been all over Brittany during dinner. But instead of being turned on, Finn had just raised his eyebrows at how close they seemed. What kind of guy was he? Puck would have been overjoyed. What if he talked about this to his friends?

"She ended up sleeping with him."

"Who?" Kurt asked, trying to follow.

"Finn. I don't know why. I begged her not to, but she said she had to now. She went to the same motel room she always goes to, and I followed her, but I got lost on the way and was kind of late," Brittany told him.

"I found them just sitting on the bed together. Santana let me in without a word, and she had the weirdest guilty look on her face."

"Are you okay?" Brittany asked, standing in the archway of the door.

Santana shrugged. "I can't leave him," she said, as if that was the only answer to that question, or at least the only thing she could think about right now.

"Why?" Brittany asked.

"Look at him," Santana said, discretely pointing at Finn sitting on the bed reading a magazine. "He kind of reminds me of you."

Brittany pouted at her.

"No, I mean it, he doesn't know the rules of this game, but he played anyway," Santana said.
"He even tried to ask me what he should be feeling. He's still an asshole, but he's not like me… like how I used to be," she corrected. "He's more like you. He wanted it to mean something."

"Britt," she said suddenly, "if I give you money, will you run and get us burgers. There's no all night menu here."

"Okay," Brittany said, "but why?"

"Oh, I don't know. Guys spend all day daydreaming about greasy foods don't they?" Santana said irritably. "He'll take the bait. And I'll stop feeling like such a creep. And we can talk about burgers, so there won't be so much silence. It's the thought that counts."

"So you all ate burgers together, in the middle of the night, in a seedy motel room," Kurt summarized for her. And Satan has a heart, he thought.

"Pretty much," Brittany said, "and I could tell Santana was so upset. So I figured I should share her pain, so she wouldn't feel so bad. You know, like how when your best friend pees her pants, you pee yours too so she won't be embarrassed? Or when she gets punched out by the biggest and meanest bully in the playground, then you go up to the bully and ask for a punch too, and take it so she won't look weak all by herself. Or when she…"

"Are you speaking from experience there?"

"Maybe," she said, a hint of a blush on her cheeks, "but anyway, I just kissed him. I've been kissing so much lately that its like those muscles in my mouth are in overdrive. He was a bit surprised to respond much, but I still got more than enough Finn slobber. I totally thought that if I did that, then she would be okay. But then she gave me the weirdest look, and I couldn't figure out how to explain myself."

"She said two wrongs don't make a right, or something like that. And then she wouldn't let me kiss her anymore, even though we were still in front of him, and that's the rule, if it's in front of a guy, then its okay."

"So kissing Finn was like…,"

"He was all scratchy. My face hurt. And yeah, burgers, it was like kissing the Hamburglar."

"Burgers," Kurt sighed dreamily.

"I wish I could give my kiss with Finn to you," Brittany said looking at him.

Kurt huffed, ready to launch into another one of his 'I'm not gay anymore' rants.

Burt Hummel burst through the door, and started talking to Kurt about murder mystery nights and using protection and things that Brittany only half heard as she tuned out.

Brittany giggled. She wondered if they sold Hamburglar alarms. She could install one at the Hummel house so Kurt's dad would stop inviting Finn over, and she could install one at that motel so Santana would never have that experience with Finn ever again. Or maybe it would be faster and better to Santana-proof that motel. She could string some peanuts over the door. Santana hated peanuts. Brittany wondered what she was doing right now.

I probably shouldn't be here, Brittany thought, as Kurt slung his arm around her. I'm missing trying to get kisses with Santana, and I'm letting Kurt not be his awesome self.

"Sorry about that," Kurt apologized when his dad left. "I so owe you one."

"You're one of the strongest people I know Kurt. Seeing you like this makes me so sad."

"I can handle myself," he told her.

"I know," she agreed, readily. Even if he didn't know it, Kurt would come to his senses. His sense was never far away. He wasn't who she had to worry about.

Brittany frowned. "Can I cash in already of that favor?"

"Sure," Kurt said, a bit surprised.

"You're a guy, so could you just sit in the room sometimes and watch me and Santana kiss? You could wear sunglasses and just pretend you're looking. It is part of her rules, so …please?"

Kurt's mild surprise quickly turned into feeling stunned and bewildered. He nodded his head slowly. He wouldn't question it. He wasn't sure he really wanted to know.

---

"Brittany, he doesn't count," Santana said, when Brittany dragged her into an empty science lab for kisses, pointing enthusiastically at a very uncomfortable looking Kurt who was sitting in a corner filing his nails.

"Why not?" Brittany asked, "I followed your rules. You said we could kiss in front of guys. So I brought you one."
"Kurt you're still a boy right?" she asked.

"Unfortunately, yes," he agreed.

"Brittany, how do I explain this to you?" Santana said struggling to figure out a way to explain why she had made the rule in the first place, without it sounding silly. Time was also an issue. As it turned out, out Mercedes was moving in on Puck, and she couldn't afford to be hanging out in abandoned science labs while Wheezy was staking her claim. Puck was playing the good guy and had brought Mercedes multiple lattes today, before Santana could intercept them. It made her skin crawl.

Brittany bit her lip. Maybe Santana had a problem with Kurt specifically. "Okay, well, outside I've got Wesley waiting. He's really looking forward to this actually. We can kiss in front of him then," she said brightly.

"You mean, your sisters friend? What is he, like twelve?"

"Yep! He's super cool. We have a lot to talk about because we both like motorcross and Madagascar and stuff."

Santana's eyebrows practically shot into her hair. She wants me to kiss her in front of a little kid? she thought.

"He's a boy," Brittany reminded her, seeing her expression. "I know the rules."

A bubble of laughter shot through Santana and she keeled over with the force of it. Kurt was sniggering to himself in the corner.

"What! What's so funny?" Brittany asked smiling, "what's the joke?"

Santana tried to compose herself, and failed.

"Am I the joke?" Brittany asked in a small voice.

Santana sobered up. "Oh, Britts, I said we could kiss in front of guys because… Kurt help me out."

Kurt shook his head. "You're on your own," he told her. If he'd known this was why Brittany had asked him to watch, he would have set her straight much earlier.

"It's hard to explain, but its like, some guys like watching two girls kiss. So it makes it for them instead of us, which takes the attention off us and tricks them into thinking that we're making out for their entertainment only. That's why I said we could do it," Santana explained.

"But… but… but…," Brittany stammered. "It's not for them, it's for us. It's about us," she said, visibly upset.

"I know that," Santana said more gently, "but they don't have to know that."
"It's just like… it's like a trick, Brittany. Like when Magic Trent made us think that the duck was in his suitcase and not in his hat."

"I'm not a show," Brittany said her voice quivering, "and neither are you, and neither are you." She pointed at both Santana and Kurt.
"The sooner you both learn that, the better," she said and pressed her fingers to her temples.

Brittany gestured to Kurt. "You aren't some character that gets to change himself when your 'ratings' get bad at home or at school. You can't just come in a big tough guy outfit and sing Pink Houses and call yourself Kurt version two, because you think Finn is more popular than you. You're you for a reason, and putting on a jacket to be a second rate version of someone else doesn't work, because trust me, I've tried," she said beginning to cry.

"Brittany," Santana said softly, "don't cry."

"No!" Brittany said. "I've always wanted to be you, Santana. Because you're the bravest and most amazing girl in the whole world, and you're so, so smart. You're so lucky to be you, and you don't even care. You should just own it, and do whatever you want. Stop being who everybody wants you to be."

"Brittany," Santana started, wondering how she could fix it. Brittany looked so upset and angry and frustrated with her all at once.

Brittany shook her head viciously. "I was never kissing you so other people could watch us. I was only letting them watch because I thought I had to. I'm not a show Santana, and maybe I'm not very smart, but I'm not a joke."

I was just trying to help you, Brittany thought, casting one last lingering look at Santana before running out of the room, ignoring the way they were calling after her.

---

Brittany hid in the janitor's closet for her last class, and then quietly shuffled in for Glee club practice when the bell rang.

Santana looked up, her eyes slightly swollen. She had kept randomly crying in her last class, until the teacher had sent her to the nurse.

Mr Schuester looked them both over. Something had obviously gone wrong here. Santana was picking on Rachel again, using her as her personal punching bag. Maybe singing would help at least one of them? he thought.

"Ugh, I can't think about our number for Regionals over the potent smell of cabbage. Seriously, don't you carnival folk ever bathe?" Santana shot at Rachel, glaring at her fiercely. She was running out of height jokes. Maybe she could re-use last week's where she had told Rachel that she'd need a stepladder to reach the new sign up sheets that had just been posted for the mathletics team.

"Why don't you just load yourself into a slingshot and destroy our fortress," Tina said grumpily to Santana. She'd been the brunt of a snarky comment too, and she wasn't happy about it.

"I wouldn't be so angry if people didn't keep taking what's mine," Santana growled, staring at Mercedes and Puck and then looking back at Brittany frustrated. At least the Angry Birds knew they wanted their eggs back from the evil pigs, I don't know what I want, she thought.

Okay, so I'll leave Santana to cool down, Mr Schue reasoned. Santana had already had an 'angry solo' with Mercedes today anyway. He looked over at Brittany who looked like she was trying to disappear. I'll try Brittany before she crawls back into her shell again, he thought.

"Brittany," he said kneeling in front of her in her chair, "do you have a song you'd like to share?"

Brittany shook her head. "No."

Tina groaned. "What about me Mr Schue? Why should she get to skip ahead of me. I haven't had a solo in ages."

"You'll get your turn Tina," Mr Schue promised, "are you sure, Brittany, that there's nothing you want to sing about?"

Brittany hesitated. There was something she wanted so badly, and maybe if she sung about it she would get her message across. Santana and Mercedes had fought over Puck together this morning in a duet, and now he was sitting next to Mercedes kissing her cheek. Maybe she would win Santana over too if she sung a solo.

"What do you want most in the world Brittany?" Mr Schue whispered to her so none of the others could hear.

"Come on girl, let's hear it!" Mercedes called out from across the room.

Brittany nodded, and stood up, beginning to sing quietly. She chose the first song that came to her head. Mercedes put her palm out, moving it upwards to indicate she wanted her to sing louder.

There you see her
Sitting there across the way
She don't got a lot to say
But there's something about her
And you don't know why
But you're dying to try
You wanna kiss the girl

Santana, I just want you to kiss me, she thought. She looked right at Santana, locking eyes with her although it hurt to do so. She made sure that she knew that the words were for her. It was a little weird to sing about herself in third person, but it was okay, sometimes she did that anyway.

Yes, you want her
Look at her, you know you do
It's possible she wants you, too
There is one way to ask her
It don't take a word
Not a single word
Go on and kiss the girl

"Sing with me now!" Brittany called out and the Glee club (with the exception of Santana who was just looking at her feet embarrassed) all backed her up singing the chorus in harmony. Mercedes was the loudest of all. Even Rachel joined in this time. The Little Mermaid movie, and companion Broadway production was one of Rachel's favorite things.

Sha-la-la-la-la-la
My, oh, my
Look at the boy too shy
He ain't gonna kiss the girl
Sha-la-la-la-la-la
Ain't that sad
Ain't it shame, too bad
You gonna miss the girl

Brittany looked right at Santana again, trying to catch her eye but Santana kept stubbornly looking away. Now Brittany felt like the crab in the movie who had tried to convince the prince through subliminal messaging to kiss the mermaid, knowing that all he needed was a little encouragement. If their school ever put on a production of 'The Little Mermaid,' she and Santana could totally play all the characters as a two person show, because it was like the story had been written about them. Then, Brittany could sing 'Part of your world' because she wished so bad she fit in better sometimes, and Santana could sing 'Poor unfortunate soul' when she wanted to get her angry octopus on.

Now's your moment
Floating in a blue lagoon
Boy, you better do it soon
No time will be better
She don't say a word
And she won't say a word
Until you kiss the girl

For the last chorus the entire Glee club waved their arms from side to side as they sung with her. Brittany couldn't help smiling. The Glee club looked so happy and were so into it, throwing their arms around each other and giggling and pointing at each other.

Sha-la-la-la-la-la
Don't be scared
You got the mood prepared
Go on and kiss the girl
Sha-la-la-la-la-la
Don't stop now
Don't try to hide it how
You wanna kiss the girl
Sha-la-la-la-la-la
Float along
Listen to the song
The song say kiss the girl
Sha-la-la-la-la-la
Music play
Do what the music say
You wanna kiss the girl
You've got to kiss the girl
Why don't you kiss the girl
You gotta kiss the girl
Go on and kiss the girl

The moment she sung the last note, everyone got up and high fived Brittany and swore that more Disney songs should be sung. Rachel lay claim to something from Cinderella and Mercedes threatened another diva-off to anyone who tried to steal 'You've got a friend in me' from her, because she was the original 'Wheezy' and was not putting up with no fakes. Tina insisted on 'Colors of the wind' because she said it would suit her voice perfectly.

Santana stood back for a while, then silently walked out. Brittany stared after her and sighed. Okay, so maybe she got a bit carried away again.

She moved away from the crowd and went to follow her, but was stopped when Mr Schuester laid his hand on her arm.

"Did I finally get it right this time, Mr Schue?" she asked. Mr Schuester had been watching her sing the whole time, small lines creasing his face.

He scratched his head. "You know, there was definitely emotion behind that, and I liked that."

Brittany grinned.

"And I liked that you were brave enough to sing by yourself this time, that was great," he said.

Brittany grinned wider.

"But, Brittany, I get the feeling that you mostly shared another person's feelings today, almost as much as your own. You're on the right track, but I just want to hear what you feel, and not have it all mixed up with you trying to make some else feel something at the same time," he said almost tripping over the words.

Brittany sighed. She knew he was right. It had been done in the heat of the moment. She hadn't thought it through. She never thought anything through, or remembered that things have consequences.

"I know you want Santana to share too, but you can't do it for her until she's ready," Mr Schue said.

"I know," Brittany's voice was small.

"Still, it was definitely an improvement on last time. Maybe next time you'll get it right, okay? You're getting so close," he said and smiled at her. At least she didn't cause so much of a riot this time, he thought.

He let her go, and Brittany ran to catch up with Santana who ignored her and kept walking.

Brittany caught hold of her arm. "I'm sorry Santana. I'm sorry! Nobody even noticed, I promise."

She looked like she was about to get down on her knees and beg Santana's forgiveness.

Santana just looked at her pained. She knew the others hadn't noticed, they had just thought Brittany was being Brittany, explaining away her strange behavior with just that. She made an effort to calm down and not fly into a rage this time, and found that she wasn't even that angry. She knew Brittany hadn't meant to hurt her. She knew Brittany had meant to empower her and make her go for what she wanted, but mostly Santana had just felt weak, like Brittany was making something so hard sound too easy, making Santana look like a coward, and maybe she thought she kind of was, but that wasn't easy to take.

"I was just trying to seduce you," Brittany mumbled.

"You… what?" In spite of herself, Santana couldn't help giggling.

"I don't know. You were singing at Puck to get him back this morning with Mercedes. I wanted to sing at you to get you back. I thought it seemed kind of like how we seduced Finn, just not as wet." He kisses like a walrus, Brittany thought.

"I never went anywhere, Brittany," Santana lay a hand on her arm.

"I know you didn't," Brittany sighed, "and yet you did. I want to help you so bad, just like I promised you."

Santana's eyes widened. What is she talking about?

"But I need your help back. I can't pull you off your carousel highway when you don't want to get off. I was just trying to help," she said vulnerably.

Santana's mind worked fast. Is that what all that kissing was about? "After that night…," she trailed off, "you were trying to fix what's broken in me with kisses?"

"Did it work?"

"You know, I think it helped," Santana told her, taking her hand.

"Can we keep trying?"

Santana felt her insides flip over. "Britt...,"

"I could up my game," Brittany interrupted her, "I could do it more like you. I could do all the things you did that made all the guys on the football team powerless to do anything but kiss you."

Santana smirked. "Yeah? How do I do it?"

"Like this," Brittany batted her eyelashes in a way that Santana had never seen her do before. Next, Brittany threw her hair over her shoulder and posed so more leg was showing in her cheerios outfit. She then blew a kiss and walked a few steps away from Santana throwing a backwards glance over her shoulder as she strutted off.

"And then when they look like that," Brittany said triumphantly pointing at Santana's face, "then you say, 'carry my books' or 'buy me bling.'"

Brittany made her eyelids heavier and dropped her voice as low as she could. "Or, I'm not wearing any."

"I say all that do I?" Santana said, trying to contain her amusement. Flirty Brittany was a sight she never thought she would see, even if it was only an imitation of Santana herself.

Brittany nodded.

"Not wearing any what, Britt?" Santana asked huskily.

"Duh, no makeup of course," Brittany smiled at her, "that's totally when you're at your most sexy."

Santana felt her insides turn to mush at Brittany's words. That was such a sweet interpretation of the way she teased guys by saying she wasn't wearing any panties.

"And then bam!" Brittany startled her as she clapped her hands. "Seduced!"

"Is that right?" Santana smiled a warm smile at her.

"Yep! Now I've seduced you, you have to do my bidding."

"Okay. What do you want me to do?"

"I want to have sweet lady kisses with you," Brittany said without even needing to consider it.

Santana's eyes dropped and she looked around them fearfully, scanning the lockeroom for anyone coming. "Britt, shhh… sound travels remember?"

"Is that a no?" Brittany asked disappointed, "if you really don't want to... that's okay and stuff."
She paused. "You really don't want to kiss me?"

Santana's face became conflicted, like she was struggling in a battle within herself.

"No," she finally admitted, "I really want to." It's not that I don't know what what I want, it's that I can't deal with what I want, and it's perhaps that I want too much, she thought.

She remembered Brittany kissing her a couple of weeks ago when she'd been reacting to the meds her therapist gave her. It was about the only thing she could remember from that entire time. She remembered how Brittany's lips had felt like a light in the darkness, guiding her to safety, making her feel strangely warm inside. How could something that was so wrong feel so right?

Brittany brightened, "I knew it! Then what's stopping you?"

"Brittany," she hissed, "we're girls. Don't you know how people at this school would react? Do you see any other girls kissing here, what would everyone think?"
She had explained this to her so many times, yet it never seemed to sink in.

"No." Brittany shook her head, her answer to most of those questions. She never thought much about what other people thought, mostly because it seemed like there was a wall that separated her mind from being able to consider what other people might be thinking. Sometimes it wasn't so bad because she really had no interest in knowing what a lot of people she knew thought, because they were so bitchy and judgemental. She always had picked a small sea of special people to puzzle out, but across the murky waters, the rest of the world remained unknown.

Brittany decided to skip over all that and just tell her the simplest thing possible, hoping it would also be the most effective..
"I really like you Santana, and I feel happy when we're touching. I don't know why and it doesn't exactly make sense, but I do."

Santana sighed. Brittany couldn't understand why when you wanted something, sometimes getting it was just too complicated. This was a girl who still believed in Santa and unicorns. To her, anything was possible if you wanted it. In her magical dimension, there were no boundaries, not even between real and make believe.

It was time for Santana to tell her. Brittany had to grow up sometime.

"You know, Brittany, sometimes, things just don't work out the way we want them too. Even when it seems like they really should work out, sometimes they still don't."

"What do you mean?"

"Um," Santana struggled to find words Brittany might use, "it's like how the other day you wanted to have an ice-cream sandwich, and ice-cream and bread aren't usually things that people think go well together."

"But it was awesome," Brittany intoned seriously.

"Yes," Santana agreed. It had been surprisingly tasty.

"Okay, well remember how it was great for a couple of seconds while the ice-cream was still whole."

Brittany sighed. It had been so good.

"But then the ice-cream just melted and everything got soggy and not so nice anymore?"

"Yeah, that sucked," Brittany agreed.

"Well yeah, life is like that, only a hell of a lot more complicated. We really wanted to eat ice cream sandwiches, but it just isn't going to happen, yeah? Sometimes things just suck."

"I make you soggy?" Brittany asked a bit tearfully.

Wanky, Santana thought, for a second almost wanting to laugh, but finding the impulse faded the minute she saw Brittany's face. "Sometimes, things just aren't fair, B. Sometimes even things that are perfect for each other, just aren't meant to be. Sometimes lo…," Santana broke off.

Brittany's eyes were piercing hers now. Why was it so hard to say? She wanted to tell Brittany that sometimes love isn't meant to be, and that there's nothing you can do to change that.

Brittany seemed a thousand years old when she spoke again, echoing what Santana had said before and finishing her sentence.

"Sometimes life just sucks."

---

Sometimes life just sucks, Brittany mused, listening to Mr Schue sing 'Somewhere over the rainbow,' accompanying himself on this funny little instrument he called a ukelele. It was their last Glee club meeting of junior year, and everyone was feeling emotional and nostalgic. The song comforted her, because when she heard it, she thought of Santana. But, she didn't understand why Mr Schue chose it to sing it to celebrate getting another year of Glee club even though they had lost at Regionals. 'Somewhere over the rainbow' was a song all about longing for things that you thought you could never have, not one for being grateful for all you had found.

Brittany was learning fast that there were so many things she might never have, even if it made no sense as to why she couldn't have them. Swaying slowly to the music, she hooked her pinky into Santana's and snuggled into her side resting her head on her shoulder. She wanted more, but this would have to be enough. Hearing their song was making her happy and sad all at once. It was hard to hope for a brighter future and imagine what could be over the rainbow, while you were dragged down by so many things you couldn't change. I wish we could be more someday, she thought wistfully looking at Santana. I just want to be everything with you, nothing holding us back.

Santana heard Brittany's sad little sigh and squeezed their joined hands. She knew that Brittany had to be thinking about the year they'd had. The highs and the lows, the ups and the downs and how far it had taken them both.

Earlier, Santana had been thinking the same thing when they had sung To Sir with love to Mr Schue. She'd cried when she'd sung it, but not for him. For some reason, Berry had picked her to sing the line "a friend who taught me right from wrong, and weak from strong, that's a lot to learn" and it had brought her to tears and she had looked right at Brittany when she had sung it, because that was how she felt about her.
Brittany had always been 'that friend' to her. Maybe she didn't get it right all the time, but she always tried to do the right thing, by herself and by Santana, and all the while she had always tried to tell Santana to be strong and shake off her demons.

What can I give you in return? Santana wondered.

It was like Brittany's voice came to her, patiently telling her all over again to finally stand up and be strong.

She looked at Brittany's face, troubled with the weight of all she thought she couldn't change, and she wished she had never tried to tell her that bluebirds couldn't fly, or that beyond the rainbow, skies weren't always blue. She wished that she had just let Brittany believe.

What can I give you in return? The music echoed in her mind, mixing together with the English version of 'Somewhere over the rainbow' creating almost a haze in her mind. She wished she could give Brittany the power to believe anything was possible again.

Brittany raised her hand and asked Mr Schue if she could go to the bathroom. Santana knew she was most likely heading to the janitor's closet to cry by herself.

"Fuck it!" Santana said under her breath, and took off after her. As soon as she was out of the choir room, she broke into a run, pausing outside the auditorium. The senior students were graduating, and the opening strains of 'The Scientist' were coming through the cracks in the door. They play that song every year, and next year it will be me and Britt on that stage hearing it, she thought sentimentally. Our last year.

She felt Brittany's presence behind her before she saw her.

"I love this song," Brittany told her, gesturing, "but I can't hear it very well behind all those walls and closed doors."

For a moment they stood, holding hands as the first few bars took them to another place.

"So we'll open them," Santana said breathlessly. It was now or never. She didn't have long to figure all this out. What if she lost her? She had to do something now.

"Really?" Brittany asked, not immediately seeing the metaphor, her hand coming to rest on the handle of the door.

Santana rested her hand on top of hers. "Not like that," she said, "play the song in your mind. You can hear it right?"

Brittany nodded and Santana caught her hand, spinning her around slowly, as they found their rhythm in a slow dance.

Come up to meet you, tell you I'm sorry
You don't know how lovely you are
I had to find you, tell you I need you
Tell you I set you apart

"I had to follow you before," Santana said, coming in close and resting her head on Brittany's shoulder, "to tell you I'm sorry for not believing in you. You believe anything is possible, and I tried to take that from you, instead of letting you show me. There's no-one like you, Britt. And, it's just like Rachel said at Regionals, 'being a part of something special makes you special.'"
"I don't know why I fought so hard against being special," Santana told her, hugging her tightly.

Tell me your secrets, and ask me your questions
Oh let's go back to the start
Running in circles, coming in tails
Heads on a science apart

In response, Brittany picked her up and lifted her off her feet, spinning her around. Santana drew her feet up as high as she could, and threw her arms out like she was flying. There were still a million things to know about Brittany, and a million things Santana had yet to share. Brittany's disorder made their minds rest on different spectrums, hers documented and studied in textbooks, making them as like a science apart. There was so much she could teach each other, she wanted to listen to all of Brittany's questions and try to help her find her answers. She never wanted this to end.

I was just guessing at numbers and figures
Pulling the puzzles apart
Questions of science, science and progress
Do not speak as loud as my heart

As she twirled Santana around, Brittany felt her heart expand to at least twice its size, as the most powerful of realizations washed over her. There was no logic to love. All this time she'd thought that she had to understand it, to feel it, and that had never been true. She'd tried to pull the puzzle of love apart, piece by piece until it seemed like there could be a formula for it, with facts and figures, but she was wrong. Love was no different to everything else in her world, because it was just something you believed in. You fell into it with no rhyme or reason, like it wasn't even a choice. It could never be understood, all you had to do was feel it, and accept it was there. You just have to believe, and I believe more than anybody, Brittany thought. And you don't have to know where you're headed on the highways and byways, or know what's there or why you want to get there, you've just got to be the one brave enough to say yes to the trip. That's love.

And tell me you love me, come back and haunt me
Oh and I rush to the start
Running in circles, chasing our tails
Coming back as we are

For a moment, Santana hesitated. She wondered if she really could begin again, and stop running in circles long enough to take a second chance that might finally lead her back to the place she should have gone to in the first place, and back to the person she should have been. I've treated pain like my best friend for far too long, I've let it lie with me at night and I've let it rule me. I have wondered if my pain is all I am? Is it too much a part of me to never come back and haunt me? she thought.

When Brittany stops spinning me, will I really go back to the start? Santana wondered. I can only try.

Nobody said it was easy
Oh it's such a shame for us to part
Nobody said it was easy
No one ever said it would be so hard
I'm going back to the start

"Isn't this a song about saying goodbye?" Brittany asked her, as she danced the Pas de Santana, putting her down and letting her lead her in some graceful steps.

"Not really," Santana said smiling warmly, "I think it's about choosing to let go of something so you can begin again. Making the choice is the hardest part. Sometimes it's hard to let go of pain, especially when you've been close to it for so long. And sometimes, to let go of pain, it's a journey you have to take alone. When you're stuck, you have to free yourself and let yourself go, even if it's never easy, even if it means letting go of a part of yourself to find something new."

"Meet me back at the start, Britts," she said wetting her lips before looking into Brittany's eyes, and capturing her mouth in the sweetest of kisses.

End of Part 2.

---

That one there^ was one of the best moments I ever had. I think Santana and I were both right. Everything is not possible, we don't live in a magical dimension of possibilities that are all sure to never fail, but sometimes you've got to believe in what could be to try new things. There's a balance or something. When we worked together, we were the essence of that balance, like yin and yang.

The song 'The scientist' is really personal to both of us. I heard someone is singing it on Glee in the next episode, but their interpretation of the song is probably really different to ours, and that's okay.

Brittany grew up a fair bit in this chapter, I never realized how much. I miss the days where I used to think everything could be fixed with kisses, and yet I don't at the same time. It was around this time that I really started to pull my own weight as a person, because I really wanted to take care of Santana forever, in a way she could always count on, and that definitely forces you to grow up.

Finally understanding that I already understood love (as confusing as that is) was also really, really important.

Three billion things:

1. Brittany S. Pierce and her ever-present silly songs. Santana is the only person I've ever met who has ever humored my singing to inanimate objects. My (measuring) Cup is a bit too sexual for high school Brittany, it's more like one I'd come up with now, but I amused myself and went with it anyway. :P

2. With Kiki, I'm … I think Katie calls it trolling, haha. I just want you all to look south when show-Brittany refers to getting advice from Kiki, like she's really getting advice from her vagina. :P
Also, that cheer camp story I referred to is true. Santana was explaining anatomy to me (again) and it came up that vagina's do have a head. I informed her that anything with a head needs a name, and she laughed until she cried, while I sat there 100% serious pondering names. I picked something way different to Kiki, but it's a good name too. I think I figured out what humor means that year. I still just said what was on my mind, but I started saying stuff for effect as well, like making a "Kiki" reference every now and then to cheer Santana up. I loved hearing her laugh. I also named her boobs. This is all probably stuff I'm supposed to keep to myself. :P

3. I don't really want to comment on the sex scene much, apart from saying that Santana's problems where she'd tense up and panic when she was touched intimately never actually had a 'cure' as such. It's sort of like being an alcoholic who finds his way to sober. She learned to cope with it, but there was always the potential for her to get like that again.

4. The meds. That time where Santana was on antidepressants was so weird. I spoke to someone about it, and they told me she had a rare reaction, but it does occasionally happen. I've noticed that the biggest side affect of all of her drug use, has been her memory loss. I used to think it was only short term stuff, but now I've noticed her long term memory isn't what it used to be either. The drug she was on in this chapter really exaggerated her memory problems.

5. "We can kiss in front of guys" happened in its own way.

There was actually no Finn (and no Sue). At the time she was thinking a lot about the people she had used, so it was just a general regrets thing.

6. I also hated when Kurt played straight so bad. I guess that's not that uncommon. It's difficult to be marginalized in society by your sexuality, so I guess a lot of people might 'try out' straight to see if it works to make their lives easier. The 'only gay in the village' line was a reference to the show 'Little Britain.' My Kurt found that show last year and quotes it like crazy.

7. Lastly, I don't think I've mentioned that I'm no stranger to being told to sing everything out like Mr Schue says. The minute mom figured out that I could sing, she had me enrolled in some kids community music/theatre/dance program. I think I liked when we put on Grease the most.

This chapter would be such a nice ending, and if I were thinking for a literary perspective I think I would end here. Except it's not a story… and I'm not seventeen anymore. So I will continue, but time will go a bit faster now. I spent 8 chapters on junior year because it matched so well with Glee, and was so important for us.
I've got 6 more... seasons of my life that I want to talk about, which probably means about 6 more chapters. We haven't actually had a chapter under 12-14k in ages…which is why I've been slower to update 'cause so many words take me AGES to check through because it's hard for me to find mistakes in my own work so I have to look really, really carefully and more than once, and I still think I miss spelling/grammar errors sometimes so I'm sorry about that. Anyway, this chapter was 19k, and the one before was well over 20k so 6 chapters could go on forever the way I'm going.

I can't believe I have an audience to read all these words still, thank you all so much for listening. :)