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.

21. Defining Gravity

I wanted to thank every one of you unicorns very much for the supportive comments about Artie, and all the Christmas and New Years messages too. I have never felt so popular in all my life! This is how Oprah must feel. Okay I'm joking, but so much attention was super cool. :)

I think this chapter was perhaps the hardest one to write out yet, and the end might be difficult for some to read. It's certainly been a struggle to write it. Don't worry, I'll keep going though. It was my New Years resolution to keep going and finish this story.
(And also to complete Angry Birds, but never mind that!)

Bmcbrid – It was your review that made me get up early this morning and obsessively write until I'd finished this chapter :)
I think you need an award for reading all that in two days!
Thank you so much for what you said, I appreciate it a lot, because I did need to be reminded of the things you told me. Also, I know you're a unicorn, because I can tell you have compassion for people and that's very unicorn, so I'm hereby inviting you personally into my unicorn club. :)

Canine Warrior – Hey, it's nice to meet you. :) I like your name! I know it sounds like I'm obsessed with cats, and yeah I really am… but I actually really love dogs too! (just don't tell "Lord T and "Senor" that). Being a great warrior for them sounds super cool. I'm so glad my story helped you understand your friend… that actually checks off one of my biggest goals for writing this, because I really did want to help even one person like me in another part of the world be understood better. Thanks for reading. :)

Miara848 – I am a very lucky writer :) And that's because in your reviews you sent me cupcakes and cookies and twenty big hugs! I think I must be the luckiest writer ever, actually. :D With 21 chapters, well my story kind of is turning 21 now, so if it wanted to, it's now able to drink, and that would be a funny sight!
I loved the song you mentioned by Christina Perri, my favorite line at the moment is "How many times will you let me change my mind and turn around? I can't decide if I'll let you save my life or if I'll drown." Because that was very much like Santana, she could never decide if she wanted to be happy or not, or more likely, if she deserved to be.
And also, even though Rachel scared me with her fanfic, I still do love the Phantom of the Opera, it's one of my absolute favorites too, and I've seen it on stage a few times. I have to say though… that when the movie version came out, I will never forget the day I could hear Rachel two classrooms away screeching off key "think of me… think of me fonnndly, as we say goodBYEEE" while I was trying to do a test on Apartheid in South Africa, and really needed to not be laughing. :p
I hope you had a wonderful Christmas and New years. :) While I was sending balloon mail just after Christmas, I sent you a balloon in the sky to tell you that! *21 big hugs for chapter 21*

harumad – I know we've already talked about everything, but I wanted to leave you a message here anyway just for fun. :P And also to publically state that your reviews are anything but useless. :)

wkgreen – Wow, I'm so impressed you managed to catch up! All that reading and my mastodon sized chapters… wow. I did want to say that you're absolutely right about Santana needing a trustworthy friend outside of me to talk things over with… I wish so hard that she'd had someone to be that for her. If this were really all fiction I would have given Mercedes that role and this all would have been a different story, but unfortunately pretty much everyone at school that we knew seemed to have something against her. Thank you for reading :)

Puff614 – Thanks for being a good friend :) I missed you too! I do actually feel a lot more at peace with the Artie situation now, and that's mostly because of comments I've gotten from people here, making me see that it wasn't completely evil of me to get kind of caught up in something that felt good, so long as I was honest with him. I'm really looking forward to your thoughts on this new chapter, because your thoughts always seem to help me understand my life better. :)
I hope you had a really awesome Christmas and New years!

Prattle01 – I just wanted to mention that I'm glad I made you laugh with the last chapter :) I hope you like this one too!

VerritoPerroni – All Unicorns are definitely family for sure! Our species must stick together :) I loved your review, it was a wave of positive thoughts like a rainbow :)

just. a. dreamer. named. jay - Thanks for encouraging me… and for being so patient! :) This last one was so hard to write!

luceroadorada – I like Brandi Carlile too, I might use another one of her songs actually! Thanks so much for your kind words and much love to you back! :)

Ascoeur – Thanks so much! And I wish more than anything that Santana was sitting beside me helping me write this, but she doesn't actually know about it… it's a secret. I hope you like this next chapter :)

cord – Thank you for the lovely comment and for reading :)

xannaxmurderx – I've really enjoyed getting to be your new friend! And I just wanted to say that I hope you enjoy this chapter. :)

brittana1314 – Thank you for reading and for your support… and it won't actually be too many chapters more before I say how things worked out in the end. :)

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Chapter 21 – Defining Gravity

Brittany S. Pierce, Present.

Can you think of that one moment in your life that you wish you could do over?

That moment where you had one chance to change your life, but you blew it?

Sometimes, after the moment has passed you look back and realize that maybe going ahead with what you missed your chance to do, might not have been such a positive life change after all. But then, you still wish you had tried it anyway, just to be fluid and not stuck.

Santana taught me to stand up for myself and not just fall at anybody's feet. She also did her best to teach me to be strong and independent, and to think for myself.

Neither of us realized that her teaching me those things might one day come crashing down on us.

---

Brittany S. Pierce, age 18

"Come on, San!" Brittany said grabbing the other girl by the hand, and trying to haul her outside. "It's snowing!"

"No shit, Sherlock," grumbled Santana. "And it's cold and wet," she said digging her feet into the floor and stopping them both in their tracks

"No shit, Sherlock!" Brittany said, giggling. "I love it!"
She started dancing on the spot, and looking longingly out the window.

"What are you so happy about? Look, we're not even outside yet and your ears are already red from the cold," Santana said, standing on tiptoe and blowing hot hair on one of Brittany's ears, and on impulse taking it between her teeth.

Wanky, Brittany thought hearing the word in Santana's voice, and watching her out of the corner of her eye. She shivered, feeling a tingling sensation run up her spine, knowing that it had nothing to do with the cold. She felt Santana run her tongue over one of the Hello Kitty earrings she was wearing, poking her tongue through the hoop before pulling away slightly to rest her cheek against hers.

"I fucking love Hello Kitty," Santana said, whispering it close to Brittany's lips, and rubbing the back of her fingers over her jaw.

"Mmhmm," Brittany agreed, without even slightly moving a muscle.

Santana smiled, her eyes misting over. She took it as a compliment when Brittany stopped talking, moving, and seemed to even stop breathing when she was touching her like this. She had noticed that Brittany seemed to think that if she didn't do anything to break the spell, then Santana might keep on touching her longer. She pressed her cheek closer still to the blonde's, trying to warm her up. Brittany was always cold.

"You know my nose is red too," Brittany added helpfully, after scrutinizing her reflection in the mirror for a moment. She closed her eyes and felt Santana's lips brush against her nose. "The snow is wicked awesome, San," Brittany promised her, "and I won't bury you in it. Not like how I covered you in sand at the beach."

"Ugh… yeah Britt, please don't," Santana told her. "You know it was already bad enough waking up after an hour of sunbathing to find I had a mermaid tail made of sand that covered almost half my body, so no way am I letting you turn me into a human iceberg by covering me in snow. You know I was finding sand everywhere for weeks? It kept turning up between my toes … in my ears … in my bed."

"Between your boobs..." Brittany deadpanned, matter-of-factly.

"Well that was where you found it," Santana shot back.

Brittany sighed. "You didn't like your mermaid tail?"

"It was a nice tail," Santana relented, "great design and um craftsmanship. It's just not all of us like to get so… close to sand, Britts. Just because you roll around in it, doesn't mean the rest of us want it so dangerously close to getting in our hair."
I've never been able to understand how she can just lie directly on the sand, even deliberately getting it in her hair, she thought, shuddering.

Brittany tugged on her hand again. "There's no such thing as snow mermaids, only snow queens, so you have nothing to fear," she said, resuming her efforts in trying to drag her outside.

"Well, yeah, and if either of us is going to turn into a human iceberg, it will probably be you anyway," Santana said, swatting her away. "Last time we went out you nearly got frozen solid. I can't figure out how you attract the cold like that! It's like you're a magnet for it."

Brittany's jaw dropped. She didn't want to be a human iceberg. She knew that icebergs were dangerous and could cause a lot of trouble. What if she ran into someone, or if someone ran into her? Disaster!

Santana watched her face. "Popsicle?" she suggested instead, after watching Brittany's hands crash together in an imitation of the fate of the Titanic.

Brittany nodded. I wouldn't mind being a human popsicle, she thought flashing back to Santana eating a regular one the other day and feeling her face heat up at the thought. She cleared away the naughty-Santana-thoughts from her mind by remembering them both eating Timon and Pumba bug popsicles when they were kids, pooling their money together until they had enough, and then sharing one, even though everyone else said sharing it was more than a little gross.
She smiled at the memory of younger Santana's innocent little face. Okay, that's better, she thought.

Santana smiled back at her and handed her a paper bag that had been sitting on her dresser. "In any case, these should help with the cold," she told her.

Brittany carefully pulled the contents out. "Oh! Red gloves!" she said happily. "They are super awesome!"

"They won't get wet like your other ones." Santana pointed at the label. "See? They're waterproof."
She had chosen the softest ones the store had, which happened to be the ones with penguins stitched on the side.

"I love them." Brittany slipped them on and flexed her fingers at Santana.
"My Christmas present to you is totally not gonna be as cool as these, but … but… I'll let you wear my penguin hat while we're outside," she offered, holding up her favorite hat which happened to also be pretty much her favorite thing that she owned.

"Woah, hang on Brittany, this isn't your Christmas present." Santana reached over and tapped the gloves.

"They aren't?"

"Nope."

Brittany's jaw dropped open for the second time in ten minutes. "But you already outdid yourself," she said with wide eyes.

Santana glared at her. "Are you trying to say I don't give you good gifts," she demanded, wondering how a stupid pair of gloves that weren't even meant as a Christmas present could possibly outdo all her genius gifts of the past.
"Even the Hello Kitty toaster?" she complained softly to herself.

"I'm not saying that," Brittany said, her eyes returning to their regular size. "I'm just saying that I really like these." She clutched the gloves to her chest.

Santana's rage cooled as quickly as it had come. She spied the toaster that she had given Brittany a couple of years ago half sticking out of her travel bag in the corner of the room. Brittany thought the device was a mastermind. It toasted the toast and left a white unburned cat face square in the middle of the bread. After her tenth piece, even Santana herself had felt brainwashed into joining Brittany's Hello Kitty obsession as if the symbol on the bread could dictate mind control. Or… maybe that little white cat just reminds me of her, she thought sentimentally.

"Still making Hello Kitty toast?" she asked her, gesturing to the pink object.

Brittany exhaled, relieved that Santana wasn't mad. "I eat pussy every morning," she promised.

Santana snorted with laughter, looking up to see if Brittany had said it on purpose, but Brittany's face was solemn and innocent. Santana shrugged and turned back to her side table looking for a comb to do her hair, and the minute she did, Brittany's face split into a wicked grin. She's spent so long saying inappropriate things without realizing what she was actually saying, that now nobody ever seemed to suspect her of saying them on purpose. And once in a blue moon, on a day like today, she even fooled Santana.

Santana patted the surface of the table, feeling around clumsily and almost knocking over a perfume bottle. "We'll exchange our real gifts on Christmas Day like we always do, silly." She turned and faced Brittany again, having now found the comb she was looking for.

Brittany brightened. That totally meant she still had time to think of something really cool to get Santana. She pried the comb from Santana's hand and began doing Santana's hair herself. She would never get over how beautiful Santana's hair was, it was no wonder that she wanted to keep it away from sand mermaid tails. She hummed as she worked, stealing a few glances at Santana every now and then, wondering why she seemed so preoccupied.

Santana spoke up hesitantly. "We've spent every Christmas together haven't we? Have we ever missed a year since um… ?"

The year your dad left and I found you crying in my garden, Brittany thought. "Nope," she said. "Not even the year I got snowed in."
She paused to think about that, having already finished making Santana's hair shiny, and even more beautiful.
"Hey San? How did you get in that year?" she asked catching her hand and pulling her outside the house, this time finding no resistance. "Did you come down the chimney, or did you tunnel in like a mole?"

"Sure Britt," Santana agreed.

"No really. How did you do it?"

Santana shrugged. How could she tell her that the reason she'd been able to 'get in' was because she'd been avoiding her own family and had already been camping out at Brittany's house waiting for the Pierce's to return home for days?

"You definitely tunneled in like a mole," Brittany decided. "No, you turned into a Tasmanian Devil and made a whirlwind path to get through."

"Of course I did," Santana told her. "What are you doing?" she asked, seeing Brittany suddenly kneeling on the ground and scooping up snow.

"I'm building a snowman version of you. No wait, a Snowwoman," she corrected herself.

"Oh, I see," Santana said. "Well, then I will make one of you too."

They worked busily for a while, constructing snow people from the ground up, patting the frozen ice into place and molding it to better resemble each other.

When Brittany finally had the shape she wanted, she ran back inside the house, and Santana followed her curiously at a distance, wondering why she could hear the slamming of kitchen cabinets. Brittany eventually returned holding pink food dye, and she generously poured it over the Santana shaped snowwoman's head, turning her pink.

"Ugh, Britts, why the fuck do I have to be pink?" Santana grumbled, watching Brittany perch a hat on her creations head, and then attach one of Santana's own scarves.

"Aren't you both beautiful?" Brittany gestured between them and smiled. She looked from the snowwoman, to the real Santana in turn, clearly finding them equally pleasing to the eye, and therefore being satisfied with her work.

Well, Santana thought. When she puts it like that, it's not so bad. She watched Brittany gather stones for the mouth, and some twigs for angry eyebrows.

When Brittany made the mouth a little too big she giggled, thinking that in that moment it kind of looked like that claymation abominable snowman from the Rudolph movie, or maybe that new guy, Sam Evans.

"Did you know that the Inuit people have like a billion different words to describe snow?" Brittany mused, still working busily and not looking at her. "Pink snow is called 'mentlana' so I hereby name you Mantlana-tana."

"Getting around to old geography homework?" Santana questioned.

Brittany nodded proudly and Santana disappeared inside to see for herself and easily found the completed homework and pages of research sticking out of Brittany's bag. She remembered her doing it in the car ride over. She had to admit that she was impressed. With the exception of a couple of cat faces drawn down the side of the page, she could tell that Brittany had taken this short essay on Inuit communication very seriously.

She skimmed the page. Personally she would have named herself Tlaprip-tana, after snow that burns your scalp and eyelids, or San-tlayopi after snowdrifts that you fall into that can kill you. Her eyes fell onto another definition on the page and she ran back outside.

"Your snowwoman's name is Britt-sotla," Santana informed her, deliberately not telling her what it meant.

Brittany smiled. She knew from her essay that the word Santana was referring to meant 'snow that sparkled with the sunlight.' She watched Santana arrange leaves and branches to attempt to replicate her Cheerios uniform, and then after a beat she saw her place a stick coming out of Britt-sotla's head.

"Unicorn horn," Santana mumbled, giving her leaves for ears as well.

Brittany smiled, and wrapped her arms around the shorter girl from behind. "I love you," Brittany told her. "But I don't know how to say it like the Inuit people."

I do, Santana thought painfully, remembering her Papi all those years ago taking her out for ice-cream. She remembered him waiting until they both got ice-cream on their noses, and then bumping them together like an Eskimo kiss. She twisted around in Brittany's arms and leaned in closer and bumped her own nose against Brittany's. Oooh, she thought. Brittany's is definitely colder than my Papi's, even without ice-cream.

Brittany looked troubled. "Sorry," she said.

Santana shrugged. "Cold nose, warm heart," she said, deliberately changing the phrase to suit herself. Brittany wasn't good with sayings anyhow, she probably wouldn't even notice. She still thought 'an apple a day' ended with 'is worth two in the bush.'

Brittany grinned. "In the summer, we'll take your scarf off," she promised Mentlana-tana.

"Um… Britt, they're gonna have melted by then," Santana said slowly. "You realize that, right?"

"Not if I keep them in the ice-box," Brittany insisted, dancing around them.

Santana paused, regarding her with concern.
"They're just snowmen, Brittany. They melt, okay? They're not meant for keeping," she finally said.

Brittany stopped still.

"Look, Mr and Mrs Jackson next door have made snow people of each other too," Santana said pointing. "They'll melt as well. Don't fight it, it's just what happens."

Brittany exhaled slowly, running a gloved hand over her Santana-shaped snowman's face. "Just stay for next summer… and the one after that," she mumbled to her.

"Brittany I love you, I do, but I'll be long gone by then. I have to go okay? I know you're not just talking about snowmen, and I have to tell you I'm not going to stay in Lima. You understand that don't you? And you can't keep me in the icebox," she joked.

Seeing Brittany's face, Santana knew that the joke had fallen flat.

"I so wouldn't do that," Brittany said miserably, looking at her feet.

"I know, I know. It's okay." Santana tried to bring the nice afternoon back around, but the air was beginning to get colder, the sun was setting, and Brittany was shivering.

Santana put her arms around her and held her as tight as she could in the puffy snow suit she was wearing. "Come inside now," she told her. "You're freezing. You wanna bake gingerbread cookies?"

"Yeah," Brittany agreed, wiping away a tear that halfway down her face that had already practically turned to ice.

While they baked cookies they watched Elf, and Santana was relieved when Brittany cheered up enough to attempt to be sneaky and steal cookie dough, and then to sing along to 'Baby it's cold outside' with the movie characters.

"You kind of remind me of Buddy the elf," Santana told her, smirking.

"Who, me?" Brittany asked, her mouth full of cookie dough.

"Yeah," Santana said pointing to the paper chains hanging all the way up the stair railings. "You stayed up all night to decorate my house last week like he did in the movie."
And you're just as eccentric and childlike, Santana thought.

"Elves are kind of like slaves to the holiday," Brittany told her, wishing she could lick the cookie dough off her fingers, but knowing it wasn't polite. "I decorated of my own free will."

Santana caught her looking at her fingers, and raised Brittany's hand up to her own mouth and licked the dough off her fingers.

Brittany giggled. It was still good manners if Santana did it for her. "What's your favorite Christmas movie, San?" she asked.

"Bad Santa," Santana told her. "It has none of that sappy shit."

Brittany hadn't seen that movie but she nodded anyway, and started icing one of the baked gingerbread men, breaking off his foot and shoving it in her mouth and hoping Santana wouldn't notice.

Santana didn't. She looked down at the counter at the hands, turning them over and over, as if she wasn't sure if she should say something.
"Okay, and I used to like Frosty the snowman," she told her in a small voice. "It was this ancient old cartoon version, and Frosty was way cuter than Sam Evans the Abominable Snowman in Rudolph. I think I still have it somewhere."

Brittany nodded distractedly, wondering if the gingerbread man by her hand really needed his arms. She could always say he was born a little different to the others.

Santana was staring at her. "Do you want to watch it," she said hesitantly, seeing the end credits of Elf rolling on the screen.

"Definitely," Brittany told her, going all out and swiping a gingerbread head instead when Santana's back was turned.

"I saw that!" Santana said, without turning around.

Brittany froze. "You got eyes in the back of your head, San?"

"Yep," Santana told her.

Brittany giggled. "Then what was the point of you turning around all those times when I was getting dressed when we were younger, if you were still looking anyway?"

Because Brittany, I only really have eyes in the back of my head when I turn around and can freely ogle your unsuspecting naked reflection in my mirror, Santana thought smirking.
"Come on Britt, let's sit on the sofa and watch the movie," she said instead, effectively ending the conversation.

Breathless, for the first time Brittany watched Frosty the snowman come to life with a magic hat, and for the millionth time, Santana let herself get caught up in the story.

Brittany grabbed at Santana's arm when it was decided that Frosty would have to move to the North Pole so he wouldn't melt. Santana squeezed her hand back, lacing their fingers together and slowly rubbing her thumb across Brittany's palm. Warm and comfortable, Brittany had fallen asleep leaning against Santana's shoulder by the time Frosty melted into a puddle, and Santana was glad of it, deciding that she would only nudge her awake when this part was over and Frosty was back on his feet.
Brittany stirred the moment Santana shook her arm gently, and Santana pointed to the screen at Frosty walking around as large as life expecting to see her smile, but instead Brittany frowned, her face scrunching up in pain.

Jumping up, and tearing herself from Santana's embrace, Brittany rushed outside with Santana chasing after her a few steps behind.

"Hey! Britt where are you going?" Santana called out desperately, not even bothering to put on her coat or shoes. She knew Brittany wasn't wearing hers either. "Come back inside! You'll freeze."

She saw Brittany take a long pause beside their snow creations and raise her hand as if to strike them or touch them, and then seem to change her mind, her hand falling back to her side.

Santana caught up with her and stood a short distance away. "Britt seriously," she said, "we'll do whatever you want to do outside tomorrow."
Is this about the movie? she thought.

Brittany made a strange noise in the back of her throat and she stiffened, her body going taut and rigid.

"We can even make our own Frosty if you like," Santana promised, worriedly watching Brittany's shoulders heave, and hearing her sobs begin to fill the emptiness of the night. "What's the matter?"

In response, Brittany jumped the low fence into the Jackon's garden, and she grabbed hold of one of the long glowing candy canes that formed a decorative fence around a large blow up Santa, and with some effort, she finally pulled it out of the snow. She raised it high in the air, and she ran towards the Jackson's snowmen.

Santana gasped.

"You don't need any magic," Brittany shouted at the snow figures that the couple next door had made earlier. "You're already married. You'll be fine."

Brittany swung the stick and hit 'Mr Jackson' as hard as she could, knocking the pipe out of his mouth and the hat off his head. She swung again, hitting repetitively at 'Mrs Jackson,' until she too fell to pieces beside her 'husband.'

"Brittany," Santana said shocked, unable to get any more words out. This was more like something she'd do, not something that seemed at all typical of her usually gentle, nonviolent Brittany. If she was honest with herself, then she would admit that she'd probably knock down someone's snowman any day of the week to get her kicks, but she wouldn't do it like this, not crying as if her heart was breaking.

She watched Brittany fall to her knees beside the ruined snowmen, throwing the glowing candy cane aside, and she knelt beside her, pulling her into a tight hug. "Come on, Britts, please. Hey, I love you Britt, but you know I just have to go," she said holding her close and pressing kisses all over her face.
"But it's not like I'm not going to melt like a snowman, I'll still be around," she promised her.

Brittany's sobs tapered off slowly until she stopped gasping for breath, and was just making small hiccupping noises.
"They don't need the snowmen because they have each other," Brittany told Santana in a rough emotional voice, pointing at the window where no doubt Mr and Mrs Jackson were inside sleeping in each others arms, unsuspecting of the scene going on outside.
"They wouldn't even think of keeping a snowman in the ice-box to hold on longer. It's not fair," Brittany said not sure if she was making much sense anymore but trying anyway.

Santana's teeth were chattering. "I just can't stay in Lima, okay?" she told her, "but I'll miss you baby girl, and I'll come visit you as much as I can."

"I know," Brittany said miserably. "I know. I just… I just love you San. Look what I did to their pretty snowmen. They spent hours making them."

"Hey, the Jackon's didn't need their stupid snowmen, so now ours will be the ones to come to life and live at the North Pole together like in the movie," Santana promised her.

"I wish I were them then. I wish I was her," Brittany said, pointing backwards to their yard at the snow depiction of herself.

"Well, pink or not, I sort of wish I really was her other half," Santana said trying to smile.

Brittany tried to smile back.

"Britt…," Santana started, feeling a rare feeling come over her. "You know, when I'm gone, you won't be any less smart or beautiful or kind."

Brittany looked down at her bare feet.

"Hey," Santana told her, "you are lot smarter than you believe you are, you know. And you're stronger and braver than you think. You're gonna be okay."

Santana almost couldn't believe what she was saying. It wasn't the fact that she didn't believe the words, because she really did believe them. It was the fact that she was freely admitting that Brittany could survive without her. Santana knew it wasn't one of her better qualities, but she liked to think that nobody could survive without her. To have reduced her own importance down like that proved only one thing; that she must love Brittany very much.

"I love you, Britt," she whispered.

Brittany gave her a weak smile, moving in to kiss her in response, tangling her fingers up in her hair before finally breaking away, and then looking down. "San, where's your shoes, you'll get sick," she said worried.

"You haven't got yours either, and your feet look worse than mine, they're turning blue," Santana said, pulling Brittany up and half dragging her inside.

A siren wailed in the distance. Brittany looked up. "They've come for me! They know I killed Mr and Mrs Jackson!"

---

"They're here," Brittany murmured, cracking open her eyes. "It's the cops, they've found me. It's the cops. The cops."

"Britts, wake up!" Santana said standing over her.

"I'm going to jail," Brittany whined, lifting her arms up and pulling Santana down on top of her.

"Oh, so we're playing this game again are we?" Santana asked, wondering if they were going to pretend to be saucy police officers.

Brittany proved her wrong by pulling Santana closer, holding her tight.

"Oh… okay," Santana sighed. This again, she thought. She recognized the signs. Brittany was getting clingy again about her leaving. She'd probably had a bad dream about it… again.

Brittany still hadn't opened her eyes up all the way. She squeezed Santana, scrunching up her face. "The sirens… the snowmen."

"That was months ago now, Britt," Santana told her. "That was at Christmas, remember? And even though you did go all Lima Heights on the Jackson's snowmen, the sirens weren't for you, they were for some street gang."

She brushed a lock of hair back off of Brittany's face, and Brittany finally managed to get both her eyes open, trying her hardest to wake herself up.

Santana steeled herself as Brittany's blue eyes finally opened all the way and focused on her. They were preparing for the move in different ways. Brittany, by clinging tighter. Santana, by trying to find her distance. With a sad, longing look, and a kiss pressed to Brittany's nose, Santana detached herself from the blonde and went to sit back on her bed.

They were in Santana's room trying to pack up all her stuff and decide what she could take with her to college, and what she would have to leave here to an 'unknown fate.'

There were just three weeks until graduation, and Santana could tell Brittany seemed to be struggling with her inevitable departure more and more as each day went by, though she had never once argued with her or seriously tried to convince her not to go.

Her eyes finally focusing, Brittany found that she was now clutching a giant zebra instead of Santana, and she tried not to be phased. She knew Santana was destined for bigger and better things. She only wished that those things didn't have to be bigger and better than her. She thought back to her dream and tried to get back the feeling of last Christmas. Last Christmas, she thought, but please don't let it be our last one.

"That zebra," Santana said, surveying her packing boxes, "um, you gave me that didn't you?"

"Yeah," Brittany said. "In the fifth grade. For Christmas."

"He can't come with me," Santana said regretfully. "He's too big to hide. Some asshole will get a hold of him and hump him or something and I just can't subject him to that." She went over and kissed his muzzle. "Bye Zeepers Peepers," she said.

"Dream keeper," Brittany added smiling, finishing off his name. She had given him to Santana to protect her from bad dreams when she couldn't be there.

Santana gave her a little smile. If she took all the presents that Brittany had given her over the years with her to college, then she would have no space at all in her bag for anything else. Maybe I could just take one or two? she thought.

Brittany's mind followed a similar train of thought. "That snow globe you got me for Christmas last year was totally awesome, and if I ever have to go anywhere it's definitely coming with me" Brittany told her, picturing the Lady and The Tramp snow globe as it had sat wrapped in pink paper under the tree, until Brittany had enthusiastically ripped the packaging open.
It featured the dogs sharing a plate of spaghetti inside a round dome. Brittany loved to shake it up and down because then the snow and glitter inside would fall around the dogs while the notes of Bella Notte played, high pitched and tinkly like from a music box.

"I love the scrapbook you gave me too," Santana said, picking it up from her desk. She smiled at it and traced the letters on the cover, then put it down again. It was the perfect gift.

Noticing that Brittany was finally sitting upright, she went and stood behind her to work on her hair. It was messy. It looked kind of like post-sex hair. Yeah, okay it actually is post-sex hair, Santana admitted to herself. Before Brittany had fallen asleep, they had made the most of the fact that they had the house to themselves.

"I had so wanted to get you the perfect gift," Brittany told her eying the scrapbook. She had originally picked Santana out a hair straightener after listening to her whine for almost an hour about how it was the end of the world because her hair was being impossible to manage, with or without it even being (as she described it) 'post-sex hair.'
Initially figuring that sorting out Santana's hair issues might make her happiest, Brittany had been all set to buy it, but on the day they had built the snowmen, she had realized she wanted to get Santana something more personal, and had stayed up every night until Christmas getting the scrapbook finished.

Brittany felt Santana move her hair to the side temporarily, and she watched her curiously as the other girl then crossed over to her desk, picking the scrapbook up again and dropping it in her lap.

"Show me the pages," Santana said, resuming her work, making sure she wasn't leaving any stray strands on Brittany's face because she knew she hated that.

Brittany opened to the first page. She had designed it month by month, and on the January pages she had photos and memories of all the times they had spent together from all the January's that had passed by, right up until now.

Brittany's personal favorite page was the Christmas page for the December section, as it featured as many Christmas photos as she could possibly fit. She skipped ahead excitedly, and found the page she was thinking of. Her eyes immediately went to a silly photo from last year where she was wearing a mistletoe hairclip in her hair, hoping Santana would take the hint and kiss her all day.

Santana looked over her shoulder from where she was now sectioning out Brittany's hair behind her and combing it gently. "God, we look so cheesy in all these pictures," she moaned. "Also, angels," she said, pointing at a shot from their first nativity play.

Brittany grinned. It had been a disaster. Some kid had fallen right off the stage, and in her enthusiasm to sing as loud as possible, Brittany had almost fallen off herself. Luckily she had been saved by Santana, who had then deliberately tripped up both a sheep and a donkey as they went by, and had spent the rest of the time whining that she had to pee. At least we totally both looked the cutest in our costumes, she thought tracing the outline of the tinsel in Santana's hair.

She looked at the photo that was artistically featured beside it from the day they had again been dressed up as angels for some lame 'Run Joey Run' music video, starring none other than one Rachel Berry. Angels, Brittany thought her eyes roaming over Santana's picture. And also, cleavage.

Finishing up with Brittany's hair, Santana came to life with a start and grabbed the book from Brittany's lap and dropped it into the box labeled 'college.'
If I can only take one thing from her, it has to be this, Santana thought.

Brittany smiled at her and went back to sit on her bed. She had been certain that Santana would never take anything in public that featured a photo of them on the front page with a heart drawn around it. She tried to catch the other girl's eye. Eventually Santana looked up and returned the smile, holding her gaze.

"Santana… what are we?" Brittany said suddenly, out of the blue.

Santana's smile dropped. She didn't look away, though a small gasp died on her lips. She had always known that Brittany would come out and ask her that question one day, and she was surprised she had held back on asking for so long, especially as she was normally so outspoken about everything else.

Nervously, Santana tried brushing the question off. "We're Brittany and Santana," she told her, hoping she'd accept that as her answer and leave it alone.

"No, San. I mean, who are we together?"

Brittany's legs were dangling over the side of the bed where she was sitting. She was kicking them up and down anxiously every now and then like she physically couldn't sit still.

"Together? Well… I guess then we're Santittany?" Santana said and tried to smirk, but it didn't reach her eyes.

"San! I'm serious." Brittany's eyes were intense and pleading, and they said it all; please tell me now, we haven't got much time.

Santana's voice hardened, "I'm not interested in labels, unless it's on something I shoplift."

"This relationship is really confusing for me." Why else would we have sex all the time if we're not a couple and not totally in love with each other's insides and outsides? Brittany thought.

"Breakfast is confusing for you," Santana said tossing more things into a bag and digging through her drawers.

"Well sometimes it's sweet, and sometimes it's salty. Sometimes it's even both at the same time like bacon flavored pancakes," Brittany said, trying to describe Santana's own moods with food. One moment Santana could be so sweet to her, and the next she seemed completely distant with a harsh bite to her words. Sometimes she was even a confusing mix of the two.

Brittany thought of something else. "Like, what if I have breakfast for dinner? What's that supposed to be? It kind of feels the same as celebrating your birthday on the wrong day of the year. I tried that, and no matter how many times I blew out the candles, if it was still the wrong day, and I still wasn't a year older. Food is kind of the same. No matter how many eggs or pancakes you eat at dinner, you've still missed breakfast."
And no matter how many times we touch each other, if we don't have some kind of mutual understanding, then we're not really in a relationship, Brittany thought painfully.

"Britts, look!" Santana pulled out a small multicolored square of fabric which had seen better days to distract her.

In spite of herself, Brittany smiled. Santana really still had it?

"It's the Unillama pee t-shirt" she said picturing little Santana wearing hers and swinging on the monkeys bars with her, all the while being ready to punch anyone who teased them for being dressed alike.

"Yes," Santana giggled, "yes it is."

"I still have mine too. Lord Tubbington wore it for ages. He grew from cat sizes into kids sizes the same time I grew from kids sizes into adult sizes. I told him it was a like special patch to help him quit smoking but it never worked."

Santana scoffed, fingering the shirt. "This looks like something that would actually encourage people to smoke, it looks like something out of a seventies Woodstock festival. Practically never taking this shirt off when we were kids, is clearly why I now have a cigar habit," she informed her.

Brittany frowned. No wonder my cat had problems, she thought.

Seeing the look on her face, Santana stared at her, and after a beat her own face changed into an expression of fondness and nostalgia.

"You still have that ridiculous pout," Santana told her. "I swear you could convince someone to give up their entire kingdom with that pout. I can still picture you in your matching shirt looking at me just like that, patiently waiting for me to look at you and then stop beating up whichever asshole kid that had got up in my grill on the playground that day."

"By the power of my face I stopped the violence," Brittany said proudly.

"Yes," Santana said softly, tossing the tiny shirt into the 'college' box to take with her. So far her packing was going great. All she had in the box was a kids t-shirt and a pink scrapbook. Great job, Santana, she thought sarcastically.

"Aww, San," Brittany cooed. Santana's totally never this sentimental, she thought.

"Shut up," Santana said, but she was smiling. "Hey Britt, you can have anything I can't take with me. Well… you know, that is if you want it. My mom is only going to throw everything out anyway."

Brittany smiled back and went over to the 'leave here' box and crossed the 'here' out and wrote 'at Brittany's' instead.

"Oh, and these are yours," Santana said pulling out a stack of papers. "We did all these at my house, and I guess they've piled up over the years."

Brittany flipped through them. "Wow. Were my essay writing skills really that bad back then?" she asked.

"Not bad," Santana corrected, "just not on topic. And most of your focus went into ungraded illustrations."

Brittany paused. "I'm going to graduate because of you, San," she said, giving her a warm, adoring smile.

"Not because of Artie?" Santana asked jealously knowing how much Artie and Brittany had studied together for her exams.

"Yes, Artie helped a lot too," Brittany said brightly.

Santana sighed.

"But you've been there from the beginning," Brittany said leaning forward and tilting Santana's chin up. "You've been there all through school. You were there first, and you stayed until the end, and you totally helped me survive in this confusing world. You were like the scarecrow … you were the first one that pointed out the way that I should go through the cornfield down the yellow brick road, even before I met the Tin Artie Robot."

She paused.
"Senor can be Toto even though he's getting as heavy as Lord Tubbington was, and I can't carry him in a basket anymore."

"And who is the cowardly lion in this fantasy of yours?" Santana said smirking, realizing that Brittany was making a The Wizard of Oz reference.

"Miss Pillsbury!" Brittany giggled. "She helped me too, and she so has a lustrous red mane like the lion, and she's totally afraid of everything, even her grapes. She acts like dust and dirt is gonna kill her even though we're probably all swallowing dust right now and having a dust monster build up inside of us."

"Seriously don't tell her that Britt, she'll like, jump out of a window into fresher air or something."

Brittany paused for a moment. "You were there from the beginning," she repeated. "and I think I'll miss you most of all, San."

Tears unwillingly sprung to Santana's eyes. It was still a movie quote, originally from Dorothy to the Scarecrow, but it didn't feel at all like Brittany had regressed back to using other people's words to express herself. Sometimes there was no better way to say things than words that had already been said in the past, because even though they had been said before, they weren't any less true or meaningful to the person who said them second.

Brittany squinted at her, trying to control her own emotions. She really did feel like she was about to climb into a balloon destined for Kansas. She knew that she wasn't actually going to Kansas, but it did feel like she was about to return to her old black and white colorless world, losing a world full of magic and Technicolor. She thought Dorothy was kind of an idiot for not wanting to stay in Oz.

"You taught me everything that I know, and you made me who I am," Brittany told Santana, fingering the heart shaped pendant she had given her years ago.

Santana swallowed back the lump in her throat.

"It's okay that you won't say it, it's okay that you won't say what we are," Brittany said even though they both knew that wasn't true.

Santana shook her head. She didn't know what she was refusing, maybe it was Brittany's forgiveness.

Brittany stepped closer to her. "Maybe defining 'us' is kind of like defining gravity," Brittany told her, shrugging her shoulders and trying to be brave. The last thing she wanted was for Santana to feel bad.

Santana felt the lump in her throat somehow seem to get twice as big.

"Because gravity… I mean… I can't explain that." Brittany lifted her hand up and dropped it back down again in an imitation of gravity, catching Santana's hand on the way. "Maybe we can't be defined."

"Fucking gravity," Santana mumbled, only just barely finding her voice.
I think you're talking about defying gravity, Brittany, because I would need a fucking broomstick and magical powers to confront what's going on here, she thought.

Brittany put her arms around Santana who grasped back at her, trying to hold onto any part of her she could. "See, it's like gravity…," Brittany said brightly when their bodies didn't have an inch of space between them. "Like forces attracting one thing to another thing. You've gotta be a physicist to understand and label that sort of stuff."

Why can't I tell her? Santana thought. Why does it feel like I'm all tied in knots, including my tongue?

Why?

---

The last few weeks flew by in a blur. Everyone was in a flurry of excitement exchanging numbers, making plans, and both the Glee club and the Cheerios had ended up winning nationals.

Brittany was fast developing an obsession with holding on to photos for dear life, as if they contained the memories themselves, safe in a time capsule.

Santana's scrapbook had just had its final three pictures pasted in.

The first picture had been taken at the National Cheerleading competition. Both girls were grinning broadly, with Brittany lifting Santana high in the air in a victorious pose front and centre of the Cheerios, as they were crowned the first place winning team.

Sue Sylvester's brilliant routine to 'Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds' had been critically acclaimed, with all of the judges finding the diamond encrusted uniforms appealing to the eye, and the 'rain of diamonds' a pleasant alternative to the unusual confetti.

They found the routine even more appealing when the diamonds were directly shot at the judging panel, that was until the sharp flying objects nearly put out the one remaining eye of the celebrity judge.

Coach Sue had also taken a literal approach to 'in the sky' making sure no Cheerio's feet touched the ground for more than five seconds. Santana had been proud to be on the winning team, and Brittany was just happy to see Santana happy.

The next picture was of the Glee Nationals win. The crowd had gone wild during the mash up of Tribute by Tenacious D and Angel of Harlem by U2. The girls had dressed as angels with Santana and Mercedes on lead vocals, and the boys had dressed as devils. Brittany thought that the whole concept was ridiculous but it somehow seemed to work, and she had even got a few lines to sing as a solo. Best of all, she now had a third picture of Santana and herself dressed as angels added to her scrapbook.
Maybe we should dress up in these same costumes and take a picture every year right up until we go into the old ladies home together? Brittany mused.

The next song had been some sappy 'Finnchel' number, and as the couple had kissed on stage, Brittany and Santana had sat it out, avoiding everyone else and kissing in a storage room backstage.

The last picture was of the two of them graduating together, taken only yesterday. Brittany's eyes were wide as if she couldn't believe it was really happening, and Santana was wearing a cocky smirk. It didn't feel real to Brittany. It felt like there was no way she could make herself believe that she'd actually done it. They had been instructed to stand in alphabetical order while speeches were being made and while the ceremonial candles were being lit, but Santana wasn't going to put up with that.

L for Lopez was a few letters away from P for Pierce, but luckily there weren't many people in the student body whose names started with an M, N or an O. Ignoring any protesting, Santana had quickly shoved anyone that was between them aside, and she had stood next to Brittany anyway, and they had held hands, walking out with their diplomas whilst 'The Scientist' played.
Brittany hadn't been able to tell if Santana was remembering how they had danced to the same song outside the building exactly one year ago, until Santana had side eyed her wistfully and squeezed her hand.

Oh, take me back to the start.

---

Today was final day of senior year, the end of an era. All the ceremonies and events were now over, and today was the optional final day where lockers were to be cleaned out if they hadn't been already, and final goodbyes had to be made.

Santana had been unusually quiet all week, but today her eyes were wild and she had excess energy coming off her in waves. Brittany figured she was excited because she was leaving for LA the next morning. Brittany was personally trying not to think about it, fearing that if she did she would break down in tears in front of her.

And that wouldn't be a very polite way to say goodbye now would it? Brittany thought. Maybe I could sing a goodbye song to her like Rachel and Finn are doing right now to every single classroom they had ever had classes together in.

Brittany could hear Rachel and Finn loud and clear. Right now they were serenading the cafeteria, trying their hardest to ad lib good memories into the song, and finding very few nice comments to make about the food.
Sometimes Rachel and Finn make kind of a sweet couple, Brittany thought, liking their attempts at positivity. But that doesn't mean I'm gonna get a shirt made that says 'Team Finnchel.'

Santana clearly wasn't sharing the same sentiment, her eyes were getting a workout with all the eye rolls she was doing in their direction. She also had some sort of sharp object in her hand and was carving something into the wood at the corner of their table.

Brittany stared at her with soft eyes, and finding a song in her mind and her heart, she began singing the lyrics to Santana in her head.

"Of all the things I've believed in
I just want to get it over with
Tears form behind my eyes
But I do not cry
Counting the days that pass me by

I've been searching deep down in my soul
Words that I'm hearing are starting to get old
It feels like I'm starting all over again
The last three years were just pretend
And I said,

Goodbye to you
Goodbye to everything I thought I knew
You were the one I loved
The one thing that I tried to hold on to
The one thing that I tried to hold on to"

"Brittany! Hey, why are you staring at me like that?" Santana asked. "Earth to Brittany!"
She reached out and wiped away a stray tear from Brittany's face.

"Hmmm? What?" Brittany asked trying to pull herself together.

"We're going to say goodbye now," Santana told her.

I just did, Brittany thought. "Um… okay… goodbye Santana."

Santana made an exasperated noise. "Not to me! I'll say goodbye to you last. We're going to say goodbye to the freaking Glee club. Come on, hurry up! I've got to get at least five more insults in while everyone is having lunch. If I'm lucky I might give them indigestion."
She took large powerful strides over to the Glee club table.

Brittany scrambled out of her seat and chased after her.

Santana saw Finn first. "Hey Humpback, I'm sorry to disturb you, especially as I can see you're about to dig into your daily 8,000 Quarter Pounder meals, but I just wanted to say, that thanks to that little song that you and Rachel sang just now to communicate a tearful and heartbreaking goodbye to the lunchroom, my ears are now bleeding. I understand your need to celebrate where you have publically and disgustingly masticated with your mouth open these past few years, but I personally am internally rejoicing at the fact that it's a sight I will never have to see again. I hope you're grateful that I was otherwise occupied during your 'performance' by my need to scratch Britts and my initials into the side of our table, or you may have found one of these standard issue plastic forks driven into your massive blow hole, shortening your potential whale life span of fifty years, by half. Some might say that these long droning songs you sing during mating season are cute, but I know that in the wild, it's the humpback who can sing and hold their breath the longest that gets the girl, and not only do I personally know for a fact that you are a two seconds or less kind of guy, with this jammed into your blowhole, you might find that one pathetic 'achievement' of yours declining, and for the rest of your miserable existence you will probably be known as 'microsecond Finn' if you know what I mean."

Santana's talking about premature ejaculation! Brittany thought, giggling internally, very proud of herself to have actually figured it out. She paused.
Hang on, guys get mad if you say something like that. Her nose crinkled up with worry.
She knew that when Santana insulted Finn he could hit back hard and say things that were a lot more personal and hurtful than what Santana had said to him.

Finn opened his mouth to speak, his eyes wide.

Brittany stepped in front of Santana and struck a tough stance, trying to make herself seem bigger than she was. "Watch out, I'm actually scarier than her, and I'm gonna tear you a new blowhole, and it will totally be like the opposite of a rainbow," she told him waving around her own plastic fork as menacingly as she could.

There was a silence.

"I'll miss you too Brittany," Finn said amused, smiling at her.

Realizing that he wasn't going to pick on Santana, Brittany smiled back.

Oh, so he's not even gonna take the bait today, Santana thought. Not even if it's whale bait. She smirked at her own pun.

"And you too Santana," Finn added generously.

Santana ignored him and moved on to Tina. "Tina. I'm not sure I'll notice for ages if you're still around in my life on not," Santana said. "For all I know you could be, because everyone keeps saying you never transferred to another school this year and I was pretty sure you did. You too, Mike."

Brittany shrugged at Mike indifferently, then came and hugged Tina nicely, then deliberately stood on her foot for something mean she had said to Santana in their freshman year that she hadn't got her back for yet. Then, after a beat she stood on the other one for good measure.

"Oww…," Tina said, looking at Brittany who was smiling angelically. She sighed. "You'll be catching up with me next week, Britt. No arguments. Bring Satan if she's still around by some anti-miracle."

"And eat your freaky Asian food?" Santana muttered. "No way."

"Yes," Rachel piped up. "We shall all engage in many routine gatherings in order to keep ourselves well socially acquainted," she promised everyone. "I'll have my people call you… as soon as I get people that is."

Mercedes came up to them both, and gently knocked Santana and Brittany's heads together as if to force them to be closer, or maybe to knock some sense into them. Then she hugged Santana for as long as she'd allow it, and Brittany for much longer.

"Good luck Britt," she said, looking at them both meaningfully and whispering to Brittany cryptically. "I don't think it's too late."

Brittany shrugged at her. Santana was leaving tomorrow, and she didn't know when she was visiting next. Besides, it wasn't like she hadn't tried to get her Jamaican crustacean on and set up lots of kisses, The Little Mermaid style. Kisses didn't fix everything. She knew that now.
She watched Mercedes whisper something in Santana's ear, seeing Santana turn her face away to hide her reaction.

Kurt came up to Brittany next. "I promise I'll be there for you," he told her seriously. "If you think you're alone, you're not. If you need me you just call me, okay? Don't forget that."

"Oh my god Kurt, overprotective much?" Santana said pulling away from Mercedes, her irritation plain. "Brittany will be fucking fine," she said all in a rush with her voice trembling on the last syllable, though her face gave away nothing.

A silence descended over the group as if nobody really believed that Brittany could actually survive without Santana. They were rarely seen apart, and it seemed to them that it was even rarer to see Brittany ever do anything for herself.

Brittany shifted and cleared her throat, then reached into her pocked pulling out a stack of Pixy Stix. She handed them out to everyone then ripped off the top of her own, and gestured for everyone else to do the same, waiting until they all did.

"Here's to us," Brittany said grinning, and raised hers high in the air. Laughing, Mercedes joined her and touched hers to Brittany's, waiting until everyone else joined in and put their hands in the air.

Only Santana stayed motionless, staring at Brittany, her thoughts plain.

I think I'll miss you more than anything, thought Santana. No, how did her quote go?

I think I'll miss you most of all.

---

By the end of the day Santana had ticked off and insulted everyone on her list, and once she had the 'Snix' out of her system, she became nostalgic and tearful, and had gone off to apologize to anyone she had just snarked. She even was considering apologizing to Finn. Maybe.

Brittany had wandered around by herself for ages, successfully managing to say goodbye to everything quietly without bursting into song or adding to the graffiti to leave her mark. Now, she was at her locker cleaning it out slowly and staring fondly at the photographs she had pulled off the side.

Most of the photos were of Santana. Some had Kurt or Quinn 'elegantly' photobombing the shot, some were of her family, and some were of Lord Tubbington and Senor.

Some were of just Brittany herself. She'd thought it was weird putting up pictures of herself, but Santana had insisted.

Those pictures were of herself were old, but special. Brittany hated getting her picture taken, preferring to pull a silly face. But, one day when Santana had begged to take pictures of her with her new camera Brittany had relented, unable to say no.

"The camera never lies," 13 year old Santana insisted, "and it takes pictures from the point of view of the one holding it. I'm going to take some pictures and show you what you look like to me. You'll finally see you like I see you."

Four unspoken words hung between them: 'and you'll be cured'.

Both girls knew that Brittany wouldn't really be cured. All the books on Brittany's condition said that she would have trouble seeing things from any other person's perspective but her own.

But, Santana figured that maybe they could make some progress. If Brittany could even kind of understand how Santana saw her, that would not only show her how much she cared for her, but it would also count as kind-of-sort-of beating the disorder, even if it wasn't 'the cure.'

They had spent the whole afternoon on the beach, lazily digging their feet in the sand and paddling in the waves. The whole time, Santana had constantly had her camera out ready to snap Brittany at any given minute, and Brittany soon got used to it.

When they got the photos developed, Brittany had just looked at them quietly without saying anything. She thought Santana must so disappointed with them. They all just looked like pictures of her being caught unawares by the camera, and forgetting to remember to pose.

Santana surprised her and flipped through them, clearly pleased with her work. She held Brittany's hand and manipulated her fingers until they were tracing up and down the photos together, pouting out facial expressions.

"See this picture, Britt?" The photo was of Brittany looking in the distance, a small frown on her face. "That's what you look like when you're lonely, you kind of shrink into yourself and look away. That's how I know that I haven't understood something you've said, because the one thing you hate most is being misunderstood."

Brittany nodded. She could almost kind of see that now.

"And this one…oh, I like this one." Santana pointed at a photo taken from an odd angle with Santana half in the shot. Brittany had picked her up and started spinning her around. Santana had her head thrown back and was laughing, and Brittany's eyes were sparkling, though she was looking away from the camera.

"This is what you look like when you're happy. Your smile lights up the room, Britt."

"What about this one?" Brittany asked her looking interested, and pointed to another one of herself leaning over and drawing something in the sand.

"That's what you look like when you're confused. Your face scrunches all up like an English bulldog," Santana told her.

"Those animals have such a hard life," Brittany commented and Santana didn't question it.

"Which one is the real me?" Brittany asked, unintentionally making that exact face Santana had just described.

"All of them!" Santana laughed, "there are many sides to you. You're fluid, Brittany, not stuck."
"This one isn't you though," she said pushing aside one where Brittany was obviously posing and all too aware that the camera was there. Her face appeared blank and expressionless, although she was clearly trying to smile.

"You're you more, when nobody's watching, when you just be, without trying."

"So are you Santana," Brittany said linking their pinkies, "I guess we've got that in common."

Santana nodded.

"Hey, what about this one?" Brittany asked suddenly, grabbing a picture that had been hidden underneath the others.

In the shot her eyes were impossibly soft, and it was obvious that she was gazing adoringly at the person taking the picture, rather than paying any attention to the camera itself. She was excitedly holding up a crab that Santana had just caught and given her, and her mouth was open slightly as if she was just about to tell her something really important.

Santana hesitated for a second wondering how to phrase it.

Then she smiled. "That one, Britts, is just how you look at me."

---

Brittany took that one photo down carefully, putting it between the pages of one of her history books. She didn't want to lose it. School had finished twenty minutes ago, but Brittany knew that she would be here for at least another half hour while she finished cleaning out her locker. She was slow like that.

She also knew that Santana was still around here somewhere, and she hoped that they would get to walk out of the gates together for the final time.
But maybe Santana's changed her mind and can't deal with being quite that sentimental, and has already gone home, Brittany thought sadly.
Brittany hoped not, because Santana had promised her that she would stay, and had told her that she was only going to say goodbye to Miss Holliday and that she would be back soon.

Goodbye's don't usually take this long, right? Brittany thought, sighing.

And even if it didn't seem like Santana was going to come back, Brittany decided that she would wait until the last possible moment before going home, just in case.

Fifteen minutes later, Brittany finally heard Santana's footsteps coming towards her. She even knew her footsteps by heart. Santana's feet made barely any noise to the untrained ear. She was kind of like a mouse.

A very intimidating silent secret assassin kind of mouse.

She didn't look up when Santana approached, even though Santana was clearly making an effort to make her footsteps louder to get Brittany's attention. She didn't trust herself not to bounce around and shout about how glad she was that Santana had stayed after all.

"Hi," Santana said, her voice low and urgent.

"Hey," Brittany said, looking up at her finally, her eyes widening in concern when she realized how nervous Santana looked.

"Can we talk?" Santana asked, then without waiting for Brittany to answer she continued on anyway.

"Brittany, I've been doing a lot of thinking, and I realized why I'm such a bitch all the time, and why I spend half my life being stoned out of my brain. I do those things, and I'm a bitch to you and everyone else around me because I'm angry. I'm angry because I have all of these feelings, feelings for you, feelings that I'm afraid of dealing with, because I'm afraid of dealing with the consequences. And Brittany, I can't go to an Indigo Girls concert. I just can't."

"I understand that"

Brittany was shocked. This was everything she'd ever wanted and it was happening.

It was happening.

"Do you understand what I'm saying?" Santana asked.

Brittany shook her head. She had heard the words Santana was saying, and none of that stuff was really news to her, but at the same time she wasn't sure what Santana was trying to tell her. She had no idea what Santana wanted her to do.

"I'm saying that I want to be with you. Come with me? Please? We'll run away together. We'll get away from my mom, and this stupid town. And we'll get away from your mom and your sister. Screw them. Screw them all," Santana said fiercely.

"Santana," Brittany started, her voice shaking.

"Wait."

Santana dragged her into the empty choir room, "Wait. Don't say anything yet. Just listen. I want to tell you how I feel. Just listen."

"You've been on my mind
I grow fonder every day,
Lose myself in time
Just thinking of your face
God only knows
Why it's taken me so long
To let my doubts go
You're the only one that I want

I don't know why I'm scared, I've been here before
Every feeling, every word, I've imagined it all,
You never know if you never try
To forgive your past and simply be mine

I dare you to let me be your, your one and only
Promise I'm worthy to hold in your arms
So come on and give me a chance
To prove that I'm the one who can
Walk that mile until the end starts

I've been on your mind
You hang on every word I say
Lose yourself in time at the mention of my name
Will I ever know how it feels to hold you close?
And have you tell me whichever road I choose you'll go

I don't know why I'm scared 'cause I've been here before
Every feeling, every word, I've imagined it all,
You'll never know if you never try
To forgive your past and simply be mine

I dare you to let me be your, your one and only
I promise I'm worthy to hold in your arms
So come on and give me a chance
To prove that I'm the one who can
Walk that mile until the end starts"

When she had finished Santana looked so small and frightened, like it had taken everything out of her to sing that song to her.

"That was the most beautiful thing I've ever heard, Santana," Brittany told her, only sincerity showing from her blue eyes, the song having lulled her to a state of calm.
"You really love me, don't you?" she asked. So what if our relationship is sweet and salty all at once? Lots of people like bacon flavored pancakes and don't care if they don't always make sense, Brittany thought.

Santana looked at her earnestly. "Yes. I love you…I love you. I want to be your one and only."

Brittany reached out and took Santana's hand and tried to wipe the confused look from her face as she tried to take this all in. Why now? What had made Santana change her mind? What had she talked about with that Holly Holliday lady? What was she going to do about Puck?

Santana mistook the confusion in her eyes as needing a reason why.

"I love you because… I'm not a nice person but you make me nicer, you teach me how to be nice."

Brittany exhaled in confusion. "You're the sweetest girl I know, San," she said squeezing her hand, "but that isn't a good reason to love me, that's a reason to love yourself."

Santana clarified herself. "I'm only sweet because you think I am. I was talking it over with Ms Holliday, she gave me some advice, she told me to hold on to anyone that makes me a better person, and that's you, Britt"

"Oh," Brittany said, finally understanding what she meant. The whole concept of her having an impact on Santana like that kind of blew her mind.

"You bring out my good side. You make me want to stretch my arms out and let fucking birds land on them. I want to keep you, because I've never met anyone else like you, and I would never ever find another person like you. You're so incredibly special, and you're one of very few people that make me not hate the world, and not feel like everything is doomed, like maybe not everything is lost. It's because you're so loving and considerate and selfless, and it's like this bright white light in my life. You've been such an integral part of my life, and you've always been there even though everyone else has disappeared. I want to keep you because I do believe that you do love me, I know how rare that is, and how idiotic I must be to risk losing it. I want to keep the part of me that you love. I want the chance to still be in your life, to prove to both of us that I can still be that person. The good bits at least. I know if I lose you I will never have that chance."

"Okay," Brittany breathed. "Okay."
This is happening, she thought.

"Does this mean you'll come with me?"

"Just with you?" Brittany asked hopefully.

"Well, no, with Puck too," Santana said quickly. "I do love him too Brittany, and he can take care of us. Nobody will question us if he's there too. If he's there, we won't get all the talks and the looks."

"But, honey, if anybody were to ever make fun of us, you would either kick their ass or slash them with your vicious, vicious words."

"Yeah, I know, but I'm so afraid of what everyone will say behind my back. Still, I have to accept that I love you. I love you, and I need you, and this is the only way. Puck's totally cool with it. He wants me to have you, something that's just mine. And fuck being with your mom and your sister. They don't care about you."

Wait, I love my mom and my sister too, Brittany thought.

"And Lima. Fuck Lima. What could you really do here? I mean, there's nothing here for you. People don't accept people that are different here. You could do something much better with your life somewhere else!"

What about where I want to work helping kids and teaching them to dance? Brittany thought. You didn't really ask me what I wanted to do. What if I get accepted into college here? I haven't applied to anywhere else, and I know most people have already got their letters, but maybe mine is still on its way.

She voiced this aloud. "What about college, San? What if I get accepted?"

"Britts, I don't think you're gonna get in okay? Your grades were great, and you worked really hard, but I don't think that letter is coming. We'll move to a new city and we'll do what it takes to get you into college there. I'll help you."

Brittany looked troubled. Maybe my letter got lost in the post, she thought. That's what must happen with all the really important future deciding letters.

"Please say you love me back, please?"

Brittany brought her focus back to Santana. "Santana. Of course I do… I love you more than anything."

"But what?"

Brittany stared at the girl she loved and fantasized about going with her. Being with Santana was all she had ever wanted.

If she did end up getting into college here, she could just turn it down and apply to where Santana went later. She could call her mom and her sister every day, and as for the place where she wanted to work, well there would be other places.

But there wasn't another Santana.

She knew that the completely different lifestyle would be hard for her. She knew she'd get confused and disoriented for the first couple of months and be constantly lost and never know where anything was, or even which way was up or down. She knew that Santana would be the one to suffer and have to carry her through it, and she would hate to put Santana through that.

"My head gets really messy when things change, San," Brittany told her.

"I don't care," Santana said back instantly.

She doesn't care! Brittany thought joyfully, picturing them playing house together… for good. Just the two of them, and wait, Puck too.

Brittany's face fell.

"What?" Santana asked, her expression hardening. "Is there someone else. Is it Artie? Is this about him?"

"No… no of course not!"

"You have someone else in mind don't you? Fucking wheels, I should have cut his…"

"It's not that I have someone else, it's that you have someone else!" Brittany blurted out, interrupting her. "Be brave Santana. Let's do this together. Let's do it without Puck. Let's do this for real. It will be okay, I promise. I'll go with you, and we'll find a place. A place that's just for us. Choose me!"

Santana shook her head.

"Choose me!" Brittany almost shouted.

She knew that in her heart she desperately wanted to follow her, but yet it was also her heart holding her back. She knew that if she dived headfirst into this thing with Santana now, then that would be it, she would never be able to leave her, even if she wasn't happy. Brittany knew that she loved Santana so much that she would probably put up with Puck just to be with her.

Santana looked at her feet and started twisting her hands together. It was a total role reversal because she was now doing all of Brittany's nervous habits.

Brittany frowned. She guessed that this would work the way it always had; Puck would get Santana in public, and Brittany would get Santana in private.

But what if Brittany didn't want Santana only part time? Maybe it would be okay temporarily, but not forever. What if agreeing to part time now, meant that she would be accepting that it would always be this way?

Sharing Santana with Puck had always felt kind of like being kept in a box, and only sometimes getting taken out to see the light. It felt like she was in a box being kept 'in the closet.' Brittany felt like she finally understood the meaning of that phrase.

She knew she couldn't resign herself to that. Especially not for forever.

"You're not offering for me to be your one and only, Santana, you're just asking to be mine. That's not fair. You make me feel like I'm only half a person when you say that I can only have half of you. It's because I'm… autistic. Isn't it? That's why you need him around too. Even though I do all those good things you said before?"

"No," Santana said quickly, "I love you anyway. I want you to be with me."

"But I'm still not enough?"

Santana was silent for a moment.

"I do love Puck. And… I guess I could be happy with just him, but I still want you." she said finally. "I want you to be with me more than anything."

Brittany's heart broke into a million pieces hearing that, but she didn't know why. She suspected that Santana meant it to sound comforting, but it just wasn't.

She didn't understand why she wasn't enough all by herself to really be Santana's one and only.

A million guesses ran through her mind. She knew herself well enough now to know that she was kind of unreliable.

Puck would be better than her at supporting Santana, and at keeping a job.

Brittany knew that someone like herself who could barely remember to put her uniform on each morning facing forwards, would struggle with the responsibilities of a job.

Puck had connections that she didn't have as well. Brittany knew he was always getting Santana free stuff from his friends, which sometimes included free stuff that they could smoke. He would probably find a way to get her a good apartment too. And, he could drive.

Brittany knew that she lived in a small world. She lived in a fictitious and imaginative land where people slid down rainbows and got rides from unicorns, and ate Pixy Stix all day. She reigned as president there, but only because most of the time there was nobody there but herself. Her heart stopping still, Brittany realized without a shadow of a doubt that Santana's world was bigger, different. She lived in the real world. Maybe that was it.

Brittany's self loathing intensified. She balled up part of her shirt up in her fists, gripping it as tightly as she could, then she stopped and unclenched her fists slowly looking down at them.

She wouldn't believe it. She wouldn't let anyone treat her like she was only worth half their love and their time, even if it was Santana.

She had to believe that she was good enough to have what she wanted.

Brittany knew that she had flaws, but it was Santana that had tried for as long as she could remember to help her believe that she deserved all the love in the world in spite of them.

If Brittany didn't believe it now, then all that time and effort and faith on Santana's part would be for nothing, and if Santana didn't realize that now, then maybe she would one day, and then she would regret this.

Santana had tried to teach her to believe she was kind and smart and wonderful, and that she deserved the world.

So to honor that, Brittany had to only accept the love that she truly deserved.

And right now, it wasn't being offered to her.

It broke her heart, but she had to tell Santana no.

She looked at the girl standing in front of her that she loved more than anything in the world and felt her insides clench together.

Brittany knew that she needed to be more independent, but maybe Santana wasn't ready either. Brittany hadn't expected this huge gesture. The most she'd hoped for was for Santana to tell her that for all these years she had always meant something to her, and that for the whole time she had seen being with Brittany as being in a real relationship.

Brittany knew Santana could go back on this who 'lets run away together thing' and the emotion behind it any second. It was too new. They didn't have a plan, and Santana was famous for her rash decisions.

She says she wants to be with me, but she hasn't really thought it through enough to know how, Brittany thought. She's sharing her feelings, but she doesn't yet know what things in her life have to change, or how to break free from her fears.

She's not ready.

And I'm not ready either, Brittany realized. Maybe if I wait a little longer I can prove to her that I can do everything Puck can do and more. And, I can prove it to myself.

Brittany squeezed Santana's hand, gently playing with her fingers. "I love you Santana, but I don't think either of us are ready for what you're asking for."

Santana's eyes narrowed, full of hurt. She tore her hands away roughly.
"You don't love me, Brittany," she spat back at her, "If you did then you'd come with me. I tried to be fluid, but all you are is stuck."

Brittany instantly wanted to take it all back and say 'I'm coming with you!' but it was pure self preservation that stopped her. She knew it wasn't right.

"Santana… I-" She really did love Santana. She wasn't going to let her leave without making sure she really knew that.

Santana didn't give her that chance.

"Don't," she said and pushed back from the wall that she was leaning against, and took a few shaky steps away from Brittany, biting her lip as if to keep from crying.

They stared at each other for seconds that felt like hours. Brittany shuffled back, not sure what to do. At the movement, Santana seemed to wake up, then stiffened and ran back over to her, taking Brittany's face between her hands.

"Wait… just wait … just hold on… I'll come back for you," Santana said kissing her roughly, and rubbing her thumb over Brittany's face, from her cheekbones to her jaw. "I will Britt. Goddammit I will. I won't lose you."

Then she was gone.

The picture that Brittany had put away so carefully between the pages of her history book fell down to the ground, and Brittany stared at her own smiling face at thirteen years old, her eyes innocent and wide with wonder at the world, and full of expectations and promises for the future.

"That one, Britts, is just how you look at me"

---

Yeah, that was pretty horrible wasn't it?

I take this moment to remind everyone that I'm not leaving here without writing a happy ending.

Sometimes I think that I just should have gone with her then, because in spite of the confusion, she's my girlfriend, which meant I had made a commitment to be by her side no matter what.

But then I got all self righteous and tried to stand up for myself, and for what I wanted.

I may never know which was the right choice.

There was always the danger that if I had gone with her then, I might not have had a chance to grow by myself and try to find my own independence.

Back then, I hadn't learned half the ways I have now for coping with my disorder, and I can honestly say that I had to learn those things on my own.

Also, she wasn't ready to come out. She didn't want to lose me, but she wasn't ready to stop hiding behind Puck.

At the time I thought that if I let her get comfortable with having the both of us there, me in private, him in public, then she might never try to push beyond that because she already would have had everything she wanted.

When it came down to it, what Santana wanted most was an escape from her old life, and most of the people in it – especially her family.

She considered Puck to be the way out, and that made him the key to her happiness.

She didn't think I could rescue her from her old life, and she was probably right, because although I always tried hard, I don't think I could have supported her the way she needed, and she couldn't have supported us both by herself in a new city. I needed more time to learn how to be less dependent, and we didn't have that time.

Just like in the vaguely similar scene on the show from the episode "Sexy," there was a guy between us, but it wasn't from my side.

I think if she'd really offered that we could both be each other's 'one and only's' and she'd chosen just me, then I would have got on that plane with her so fast… for better or for worse, no matter the issues, no matter the consequences.

But even though I didn't, that doesn't mean the story is over.

---

3 trillion things:

1. The Hello Kitty toaster still works, and I still 'eat pussy' every morning.

2. I would sell my soul for more Timon and Pumba bug popsicles… they had little gummy bugs in them.

3. I caught Santana singing 'Frosty the Snowman' once. She stopped when I saw her, but I kept going for her.

4. I'm still sorry about wrecking the snowmen. I'm also sorry that Santana never got over her dislike of sand and beaches because I just love them. And I also ship Britt-sotla and Mentlana-tana.

5. The conversation where I compared Santana to the Wizard of Oz scarecrow is 100% true, and she actually still remembered it a few years later (she never usually remembers things like that).

6. The song I was singing in my head to her is called "Goodbye to you" by Michelle Branch /watch?v=JeK_aAWjmfw

7. There is a section of about 200 words in this chapter that Santana technically 'wrote herself.' This one speech of hers I put in without editing it or paraphrasing it at all. I'll give you a hint which part it is, it contains the words 'light' 'doomed' and 'disappeared' … and also 'fucking' but that last one doesn't tell you much because she's pretty fond of using that word.
It's a beautiful speech from her though, and I wanted it left intact.

8. The song I had Santana sing to Brittany is called "One and Only" by Adele /watch?v=wA4ppvp2IzY

Of course Santana didn't really sing that to me, but the lyrics do remind me of that conversation. Besides, Naya Rivera would totally nail that song.

9. I held off on writing this chapter, because I was really enjoying reliving high school, and holding on to the sixteenth… and seventeenth and eighteenth years of my life with her. And, I was trying to prolong it from being 'over again'. But I know I can't live in the past forever.

Next up, the college years. :)