Hi Unicorns! Whether you're a long-time supporter of me and my story, or someone who may have favorited this once many years ago and forgotten why, someone mildly curious, or even someone completely new – you are ALL welcome and thank you for being here. Chances are many of you will be surprised to see that I've updated after such a long time and are wondering why. I'm honestly surprised that I'm here too. The fact is, that I made a promise to you guys in Chapter 26 (aka, the fake ending chapter that I made up) that if I ever saw "Santana" again, I would post an update and say something a bit more real. I always keep my promises. The last time that I posted here was Oct 7, 2013 which is about 7 years and nearly 5 months ago to put it in perspective. Or 2704 days, to put it another way. This update will be in 3 chapters (including this one) and I'm planning to post the remaining chapters on the first days of April, and May 2021.
I know everyone who read this back in the day would be in such different places in their lives now. It's crazy to think that the readers who were very young at the time that I wrote this would all be adults now. I'm not going to worry too much about censoring content/language anymore, because of that. I'm hoping that life has been kind to you all, and that you have had all the happiness in the world…
Love, Britt xoxoxoxox
Chapter 28 – The Reunion
Brittany S. Pierce, Present
On the day that I saw her again for the first time in ten years, three things stood out to me straight away as being new.
The first was that she could say she was sorry. The Santana-of-my-high-school-years was practically allergic to making apologies. People used to say that it was because she was a bitch, but that was because they didn't understand her - in actual fact she was that way because she was 'too' sorry. She would get overcome by shame to the point where her entire chest hurt, and she could barely force the words out.
I used to call it 'heartburn' in those days, because I used to think that word meant that her heart was on fire, because when I'd hug her in those moments, SHE kind of felt like she was on fire. Like she was in this all-consuming rage directed at herself that was burning her up from the inside out. Sometimes she used to feed the fire and do these self-destructive things, because in a way that made her feel more alive. But then, other times it was like smoldering embers, like she had nothing left. I can still replay it all in my head - all those days we spent together surrounded by her red-hot kind of aura. Maybe I've sucked at reading faces and expressions my entire life, but I've always been able to read the soft glow around people that I call 'colors.'
I knew it was easier in those moments, to pretend that she didn't care, to say the opposite of what she thought and meant, and to insult anyone who was vicinity, and it worked - people would rush to step back like they had gone too close to the splash zone at SeaWorld. Forget dolphins, she could bring out a Shamu when she wanted to. Yes, she could be mean, no doubt about it. Raised on insults, right?
And this isn't a rant saying that the greatest progress she ever made was learning how to say she was sorry like I'm on some kind of after school special, because honestly I'm not entirely sure that many…. most(?) people she ever lashed out at even deserved apologies.
What I am actually saying is, that somewhere along the way while we were apart, she learned how to be 'appropriately sorry,' like she finally found the right level of it. Let's all just take that in because it's really a huge deal.
And it wasn't what I expected. Instead of being bystander to the seizing 'heartburn' I watched her stand up straight and look people in the eyes and in a steady calm voice it came out. Sorry. Just like that.
I thought I had hallucinated and made it up. Then I saw it happen again, even with a little apologetic smile. And then once again. That time I finally believed it, and I was very nearly blown away. How much simpler life must be to not be on fire all the time! To have the perspective that making a mistake wasn't the end of the world and wasn't cumulative to all the mistakes that she had ever made and didn't render her a total failure. If a person's emotions can be represented by the elements at times; earth, wind, water, and fire, then what she found must be like finding earth.
It was different though, when she apologized to me, which she did many, many times during our first few re-introductory conversations. And yes, once again I saw traces of the red, of her heart 'burning'. And that was all right, because when she feels that kind of shame with me, I'm not going to be an asshole about it. Some people see 'shame' in others, and abuse it to feel better about themselves, and that's why too often she got taken advantage of.
When I see people cloaked in red, I'm always going to listen to them and hear them out, because I know that they are suffering. Shame is one of the most painful emotions that can be felt. Sometimes people get isolated by it and feel they can't ever make amends, no matter what. That's so sad right? I can't be the only one who sees how sad that is.
I knew she felt like that, so without explanation, I hugged her until she could control the 'fire.'
What she said next was a hard concept to be grasped, because she very was sorry for how everything had happened, and for how she left, but at the same time she didn't feel like leaving was 'wrong.'
Here's the true story of what really happened when we finally saw each other again…
Brittany S. Pierce, July 2020
From Santana
To Brittany
Hey Britt Britt, I know it has been a long time, but I just wanted to say that you looked beautiful in your graduation photo, I can't believe you got your master's degree. I'm so proud of you.
I understand if you don't want to talk to me, I just wanted to tell you that I'm really sorry…
(Status – Message sent)
Santana. Brittany sat down all in a rush on her bed. It was a rainy day, the kind that beat heavily on windows and sent her cats crazy. She could barely hear herself think above the noise, and she certainly didn't know how to feel. Clearly intent on reaching out to her, Santana had left several messages across Brittany's various accounts. All of them said how sorry she was. Many of them said that she hoped that she would someday get a chance to explain. One of them said that she was doing better now. Brittany liked that one the most.
She tried to think louder than the rain. It worked, well, mostly. It drowned out all but the loudest thought, which she soon realized was the only one that really mattered. Suddenly knowing exactly what she wanted to say, she typed out a response.
From Brittany
To Santana
Hi Santana. It has been a really long time. Neither of us are the same as we used to be, and of course we are different, you know? But with all that time, I've thought about what is really important to me, and while some things may have seemed important at the time, there's not a lot that is truly important in the end. Not really. Sometimes when everything breaks, you find out what is truly unbreakable. We grew up together, and after all these years I still see you as family. I don't need an explanation for why I feel that way, I just know I do. And it doesn't change anything if you don't see me the same way. That's ok. I can't control how you feel, and I don't want to. But here's the thing that I don't want to wait any more years to say: I loved you when I met you. I loved you when we broke up. I still love you now. And in 10, 20, 30 years' time I know I still will. I treasure the very few things in life that I know will always be true. And if there is ever any time in your life that you feel like you need to hear that, even if we haven't spoken for a long while again, or even longer, or even if it is out of the blue, just ask me and I will tell you that you're family to me, and that I love you.
(Status – Message sent)
From Santana
To Brittany
Wow… it had definitely occurred to me how different we both are now. You have always been so incredibly important to me Britt, ever since I was 7 years old, and you always will be. I know I haven't really said it, but honestly … I didn't say it because I didn't think that I deserved you. I turned out to not be a very nice person back then… to lots of people. And I am so sorry, for everything that I put you through. I decided a long time ago that the people in my life from that time would probably be a lot happier if I disappeared forever. And as much as I miss everyone, missing you left a special kind of hole in my heart. I know I have my reasons for what happened, but I'm not going to pretend to cloak them as excuses, because I was horrible and there are no excuses. I just hoped that one day you might meet the person I am now, and maybe you'd like her too. I just want you to know that I love you. I love you for the funny, timid, smart, caring little girl that you were, and I love you for the beautiful, wonderful, intelligent, and amazing woman I knew you would become. And I never stopped loving you. Not for a second.
(Status – Message sent)
…
From Santana
To Brittany
Can I come and pick you up so that we can talk? Where are you living right now?
(Status – Message sent)
…
From Santana
To Brittany
I'm on my way.
(Status – Message sent)
What exactly do you say to someone you haven't seen in ten years? Brittany mused as she sat on the steps out in front of her childhood home. Santana was still two hours away, and she was giving her little updates now and then when she passed places that they both knew. Do I make a joke and play it off like it's no big deal? Will there be some kind of gravitational explosion somewhere when our bodies are less than 6 feet apart again?
They had continued to talk in the interim, as it had been a couple of weeks before Santana had a break from school and could have Brittany stay with her. They were in the same state once again, though now living several hours apart. From what Brittany could make out – Santana now lived on a mountain in the middle of nowhere.
She had always said that she would do something like that, though she used to threaten to live in a cave with a bear. Brittany smiled. Anywhere away from people.
They had quickly exchanged basic information about themselves. Straight away Brittany had told her about her migraine problem, realizing that Santana had a right to know about that, especially before she got too far ahead of herself with making plans for Brittany to come and stay with her.
It was actually strange having someone say to her 'hey, what migraines?' They had been such a controlling force in her life for so long now that everyone she usually encountered was all too aware of them. Santana would surely remember from the past that she used to have headaches, but within the past five years they had turned into an entity of their own that made her feel physically disabled at times. For a week, or couple of weeks even at a time she would be fine, and then for the next five to seven days she would be unable to move, needing help with even the most basic of tasks.
She wasn't sure how Santana would cope if she had an attack in front of her, but the other girl swore that it would be all right and that she was in safe hands and that she would 'look after her forever and always'. That wasn't the part Brittany was worried about – she knew all too well that anyone who ever had to see her on the floor writhing around crying with pain did not tend to recover from the sight quickly, it was more than a bit out there, and for many, upsetting.
After being appropriately warned, Santana had smiled wryly, not knowing what to say. She had been sad to hear that Brittany's life had come to be all about managing and working around pain as of late. "You've just got too big of brain, Britts."
Technically that was as good of hypothesis as any – no doctor that Brittany had seen had been able to find the cause of why this was happening.
"Besides," Santana had continued, "Everything is okay, so long as you don't decide that you need to go home at midnight or anything like that, because I don't know how I would get you home."
Brittany knew where she was coming from, it would be incredibly hard to drive down a mountain in a place so-way-out that there were no streetlights.
"But, why would I ever want to go home at midnight?" Brittany asked, her, feeling confused.
Santana took a sharp intake of breath. "Well, I think you're the first person who has come to stay the night with me in a long time, since…" she trailed off, seeming unable to continue. Brittany didn't push her. She knew that Santana would tell her when she was ready.
"I'll be fine, the worst that could happen at that hour, is that I might suddenly barge into your room demanding we have a midnight feast of Pixy Stix," she had joked.
Santana seemed comforted by that, but Brittany continued to worry for her own reasons. She crossed all her fingers and toes for a migraine-free couple of weeks. She was trying a new medication now, and she had hope that this one would finally give her back her life.
Brittany's phone lit up, though she was so deep in thought that she barely noticed the text.
90 minutes Britts! – S
She lifted her head from her hands and adjusted herself to lean against her suitcase. One of the neighbor's cats jumped into her lap, and she started petting it absently.
The migraines had been the reason she had had to stop working with the kids at the clinic. She had tried her hardest, but in the end that job hadn't been something that she could maintain long term and keep up her own health. It had emotionally and physically exhausted her, though she had loved every minute of it. She often still looked back at photos, and at all the videos that had been taken of her dancing and singing with the kids as part of their therapy.
I'm so glad I managed to stick it out as long as I did though, she thought. It hadn't always been possible to work around her sensory issues on the job which had been hard. The clinic was the kind of environment with a lot of noise and brightly lit rooms, and Brittany had just wanted to crawl into a cave on her breaks. Dancing and singing had only been a small but much-loved part of the rehabilitation program. Her days had been long, and she had typically come home and fallen asleep in a chair until midnight, woken up and eaten something, then either paced or passed out until it was time to do it all again. The pacing was always brought on by the fact that she brought all the trauma she saw each day, home with her.
She had loved every child she ever worked with and knew each of them had suffered so terribly in their lives. Their pain had attached itself to Brittany like a second skin, and she had personally felt their suffering. She had never been able to stop herself from crying for them, and crying only brought on more migraines. She wasn't like the other employees who had the enviable ability to separate themselves from what they saw and heard. The children had seemed to know that she sensed and felt their trauma with them, and the bonds she formed with them as a result of that had been so incredibly special.
You are only as sick as your secrets, she thought. They'd all had secrets, so big that many of them had gone completely silent, unable to speak at all. Others had spoken different languages. Brittany would never have predicted that she'd be spending her days teaching beginner English, but sometimes that had been what was needed most. Giving someone to the key to communicate with the world around them, gave them power. Brittany had told them stories about herself too, they had always been so encouraged hearing that once upon a time she too, had found it hard to speak.
One by one, their secrets had come out, often in the most unexpected of moments. Silence turned into quiet whispers spoken only to her in her office, and then to the conversations that had freed them one by one from what was keeping them from recovery. She was very proud that she had reached some of the most traumatized of children that may not have been able to have been reached any other way. But all and all, she found that living her life that way had not been sustainable. After three and a half years, she knew she needed to stop, but couldn't drag herself away. It was only when she found that she was in too much pain to get out of bed that she admitted defeat for the sake of the kids. Working with high needs children meant that you needed eyes in the back of your head. She didn't even have two working eyes when migraines made the world so blurry.
After some soul searching, she decided to apply to do her master's degree, not as a psychologist, but as a librarian. If there was any special talent she had to her credit, it was memorizing and remembering information. And, if she could remember lots of information, then surely she could help others find it. Best of all, she knew that the library had programs for troubled kids, even singing and dancing ones, so she could still do what she loved, just without so much pressure. Plus, libraries are quiet, Brittany thought, still as ever enthused by the idea. She had finished her degree not long before COVID hit, which had been the worst timing ever to be looking for work, but she was still trying.
1 hour away! Can you believe it? -S
Brittany blinked. Had she been out here sitting and thinking for that long? She supposed she had. She quickly typed some replies to some of the numerous messages Santana had sent.
I won't believe it 'til I really see you. – B
Well, I just saw the 'Welcome to Lima' sign, so you will believe it soon. -S
Santana was nervous, she could tell, she had always talked a lot when she was nervous. It was really nice of her partner, Axel, to do the driving part, because it was a LONG way away, and she had never been a confident driver, though she was still miles better than Brittany.
Brittany had never met Axel before, but she hoped that they could be really good friends. She'd seen pictures of him. He was definitely an alternative kind of guy. She hadn't been alive in the 80s, but she kind of thought that Axel looked like how Axl Rose did back then, but with dark hair. Or at least she thought he had dark hair under all those bandanas.
He hadn't minded either when she'd accidentally mistaken him for a heckler. He'd told her that he was an "arborist" but Brittany had heard "abhor-ist" like someone paid to dislike people. She'd figured that he must write strongly worded critiques all day to show his abhorrence of things. To be fair, he did kind of do that, he was very outspoken on social media about causes and rights, and terrible music, and was always the first to say it when he thought people sucked.
Santana was a bit of an abhor-ist too. But she wasn't an arborist. Apparently, that was someone who had the labor-intensive job of cutting down trees. Axel was tall and strong looking, and Brittany had heard that he had descended from Vikings, which explained how he did his job so well.
Right now he was supporting them both while Santana studied. She had also completely changed direction and had gone back to school to become a vet. It was slightly unexpected, but in the end it suited her, and Brittany was so proud. She'd always had the doctor's gene, that incredibly intelligent-sometimes-clinical personality type that people in the medical field required. The problem had always been that she couldn't stand people, and sometimes, telling it like it is in a hospital wasn't the most effective thing. Animals though, she liked. Animals were always no bullshit. And up on the mountain there were many, many animals. It made sense (and was less expensive) for her to learn how to treat them herself, and not have to rely on taking them all the way to town. Brittany remembered how years ago Santana had taken charge when Lord Tubbington was passing away, she had somehow innately known what was wrong and what had to be done. She was definitely going to make an incredible vet.
Britts, you packed a pillow right? 30 mins! – S
Brittany stood up. If she had forgotten to pack a pillow, how many more things had she forgotten? Definitely not her medication. She had checked that at least five times. She wondered if Santana would like the dress she was wearing. She had already sent a selfie of herself dressed up and ready to her partner, Shaylen. They were in a long-distance relationship, and were right now many, many miles apart, but that had never changed how they felt about each other. Brittany adored her.
They had made plans to see each other this very month, but COVID had put a stop to that. Right now, there was no way that they could see each other in person, but Brittany knew that wasn't forever. They just had to wait it out, somehow. Brittany wondered what Shaylen was doing right now. She would be making someone smile, she thought. She was kind and unselfish, and always there for her family and friends. And silly too. She had the best laugh on the planet. She hoped that she would get to tell Santana all about her.
…10 minutes. My car is a little bright blue 4WD. -S
Brittany ran around the house making sure she secured the cats so that they did not attempt to follow her into Santana's car. It would be just like them to stowaway and not tell anyone. She gently shooed all the neighbor's cats away too. She was a serious pussy magnet, and she knew it. She wondered just how many cats would sense her coming arrival and follow them up the mountain. Santana had said she lived on top of a farm, and farms always had an excess of cats. Now just how many other things had she forgotten? Towels? Was she supposed to bring towels? Maybe not. Socks. Socks were essential. Had she even packed any?
Guess what happens in 2 minutes? -S
Panicking suddenly, Brittany slowed down to a stop outside her front door. Was this actually a good idea? Was she even thinking clearly?
The blue car came into the distance, and time stood still. Brittany held her breath.
Santana stepped out the car and walked up the driveway. They took their time staring at each other, taking it all in.
"Geez Britt, vampire much?" Santana finally exclaimed after a long exhale.
'What?" Am I sparkling in the sun or something?
"You look exactly the same," Santana explained. "What Benjamin Button shit are you getting up to here?" She leaned forward and gave her a funny little awkward hug, as if she wasn't sure whether hugging was okay.
"I get my inspiration from the immortal jellyfish. But San, you've forgotten the movie. He didn't stay the same, he went in reverse. If I'd been reversing for the 10 years that we'd been apart I'd be almost as young again as when we met. How weird would that be?"
"True. That would be very, very weird." Santana paused, and then stepped closer to her, scrutinizing her, unable to let it go. "But seriously, you don't even look a day older than when I last saw you, and that freaks me out because everyone else that we knew back then, has changed so freaking much."
"I'm different on the inside," Brittany said, offering her a smile.
"Yes. I can see that."
Santana insides looked vastly different to Brittany too. She was somehow softer and harder all at the same time. Harder, like she had been to hell and back, but softer like she was no longer about to explode with rage and take unsuspecting people there with her. Soft, like many of her walls had come down, like a turtle keeping his underbelly exposed instead of relying on his hard exterior. Brittany liked that a lot.
Santana looked down at what Brittany held in her hands. It was a box that showed the logo of her favorite cake shop.
Brittany followed her gaze. "It's because I missed your birthday, well... a lot of your birthdays," she amended. The last, had been a big one. Santana had never guessed that she would have made it to that age.
Brittany wished that she had been there for it. She showed Santana that on the inside she had taped three sparkler candles, one for each of them, including Axel. "I know you love chocolate cake, and I just thought we could celebrate," she said shyly.
"Oh, Britt... thank you." Santana's eyes were soft. She couldn't believe that Brittany had remembered what cake she liked best. She hadn't had one on her last birthday, it had been kind of a bust, but this totally made up for it.
"You want to ride front or back?"
"Wanky." Brittany said slyly.
Santana let out a sudden laugh. "I needed that. Come on Britts, we have to go, or we won't make it back before nightfall."
"You really live here?" Brittany said incredulously. She would never have looked for Santana in this place in a million years, or have predicted that this would be her life now. But, standing here, it all seemed kind of right.
Santana did yet another lap of pacing around the room. "Yes, I really do live here. Do you… like it?" She tried to extract her cat, Loki, from climbing up Brittany's leg. True to expectation he had found her instantly, throwing himself at her like an enormous white snowball. Pussy magnet, Santana thought.
"Like it?" Brittany ran out to stand on the porch and gestured at the expansive landscape, the rolling hills - green as far as the eye could see. "This is incredible."
I can see how she found peace here, she thought. I think that even people who feel that they will never be peaceful anywhere, would be able to find it here.
Santana side-eyed her, still nervously chewing her lip. "What about your room? Will that be okay?" She followed Brittany, tailing her as the other girl ran back into the house laughing when she skidded across the polished wood floor.
Damn she has some energy. She could barely keep up with her. Or maybe I'm just getting old? She was somehow already feeling all kinds of exhausted.
They had talked nonstop in the car, trying to summarize years into conversations. Brittany had shown her videos of her work with children while Axel drove on.
"I could never do that," she had said, genuinely impressed at what she saw.
Kids liked her too though, but she could never understand why. Maybe it was curiosity, like sticking your hand in the toaster.
"San, please relax." Brittany gave her a little nudge. "I absolutely love it here."
Santana had done up the guest room ready for Brittany. It was a perfect little country bedroom with a sloped roof. Santana said that a hundred years ago or more, Brittany's room had been the outdoor porch area because her house was actually two houses that had been joined together.
Santana had bought a new mattress, put fresh sheets on the bed, and stacked some towels and even added some stuffed animals. Brittany still liked them, right?
"I just… wanted you to be happy when you stay with me," Santana said hesitantly. She had really tried to make it perfect for her. She thought Brittany looked beautiful in the dress she was wearing, but she hoped she had some other kinds of clothes. She'd feel so bad if Brittany got that pretty dress dirty on account of her. Farms were kind of known for getting people dirty. It made her nervous.
"I already am." Brittany smiled easily at her. "And you have ducks, actual ducks. What could be better?"
Santana finally smiled back. "You should have seen your face. It was pretty cute. I wasn't expecting you to gasp out loud."
She had missed Brittany and her ability to be excited over things that most other people weren't really all that enthusiastic about. Most people are just like 'oh cool… ducks.' Brittany had practically declared it a national holiday.
Looking out the window, suddenly Brittany gasped even louder and clutched at Santana's hand. "Holy shit, San. What. Is. That!?"
Santana followed her gaze, wondering what could have elicited such a reaction. She prayed it wouldn't be her landlord's ram with its legs up in the air. He loved that ram more than his wife.
Brittany suddenly started doing an impression of a velociraptor, with slow mincing steps and a finger raised as a sickle claw.
"San, I need to inform you that somehow you have a pack of dinosaurs on your property."
"Oh!" Santana laughed out loud. "They really are like dinosaurs, aren't they? Those are guinea fowl. They protect the property, from snakes mostly. They travel around in their pack and tell anything coming to fuck off."
Brittany seemed entranced as she watched them, lost in some kind of dinosaur heaven. One of them threw its head back, and then with a sound effect worthy of Jurassic World, it had indeed told some unseen predator 'to fuck off.'
"What are their names?" she asked, still ogling them with huge eyes. They were fast. Raptor fast. Maybe Santana and Axel had been stranded with dinosaurs on Isla Nublar, and now she was here too.
"Um… how about you name them, Britt?" Most of her animals didn't have names. There were too many for one, and for another, she didn't want to get to attached to all but a few. Familiarity made them so much harder to sell when she needed to.
"Okay. I will." Brittany didn't need to be asked twice to do the honors. "I'm taking inspiration from Owen Grady and his legendary pack of V-raps." She pointed them out. "That one will be Foxtrot, that pretty white one over there is Unicorn, that one is another Charlie, and that one over there… she paused for dramatic effect… that's totally Kilo."
Santana considered this, and then after a second let out a giggle, realizing (a) what word Brittany had just spelled out using the phonetic alphabet and (b) that she didn't know that it was U for uniform, not unicorn. She had probably got the letters from that song by The Bloodhound Gang that was all over the radio when they were in high school, but had been singing the lyrics wrong all her life. She wasn't about to correct her.
"Let me guess, if they have babies they will be Yankee, Oscar and Unicorn the 2nd?"
"Yep! They may be small, but they are way scarier than anything Owen's ever faced, so they needed an equally intimidating pack name."
"Nailed it Britts," Santana had agreed, then realized the other girl had taken off again, insistent on naming every unnamed animal on the entire farm. When she was done with that, she had pulled out her phone and showed Santana her favorite app. It was like a version of that Pokémon Go thing, where players walked around on real maps of the world and caught creatures, but it was for dinosaurs.
When the app showed that velociraptors were indeed in the vicinity, Brittany had been gleeful. "The app knows!"
By late afternoon, Santana had found she had caught Brittany's excitement. Axel was always saying she was too serious, and she couldn't remember the last time she had been in this silly of mood. She had produced a pair of Cheerio uniforms from her closet with a wicked grin.
"Come on, let's freak each other out."
Brittany giggled. "Is this mine, did I leave this with you at some point? I was always losing them."
"I have no idea," Santana laughed. "We had several of them, it felt like it was all I ever wore at one stage, and it's still how I picture you."
"Okay," Brittany called, stepping behind the door. "Don't look until I say okay?"
"Okay, I'm done, and I've got my eyes closed," Santana called back seconds later.
"What? Are you dressed already? You couldn't be."
"Seriously Britts, we used to be able to change in and out of these in two seconds flat. What's taking you so long?"
"My hair. I'm trying to do high school hair."
"Oh, okay. Hold on, I forgot that. I'll do high school hair too."
"I'm nervous," Brittany suddenly called.
"Why? Oh. I don't know why but I'm nervous too."
Brittany exhaled with a little awkward laugh. "Okay, I'm ready for real. Close your eyes again."
"Okay. I'm outside your room. Close your eyes too."
The world went black, and Brittany felt around to get outside the room and then felt around for Santana. She touched the shoulder of something soft and warm.
"That's me." Santana said.
"Oh, I thought it was Loki," Brittany joked. "Open your eyes."
Santana did. And then the staring resumed.
"Wow," they said together.
"Straight up Britt," Santana said staring at Brittany. "You're exactly like you look in my head again."
Brittany was pretty sure her mouth was open. It was bizarre for her to see Santana this way, after all this time.
"You know, it kind of feels like we went off to war, or were in a concentration camp or something," Santana joked.
They stayed in their uniforms for the next few hours. Santana cooked dinner wearing it, much to the delight of Axel who kept swatting at her playfully. Brittany lay in bed and texted Shaylen.
By nightfall, Santana was completely reassured that Brittany was happy on the mountain, and as she lay in bed with Axel, talking over the day's events, she knew that Brittany was sleeping soundly in her room, safe and content, and unbelievably in HER house.
She still almost couldn't believe it and had to fight the urge a couple of times to get up and see if she was actually still there, or just a hope and figment of her imagination.
"Hey Britts, did you sleep well?"
Appearing in the doorway the next morning, Santana looked into the guest room to see Brittany sitting up in bed and rubbing her eyes.
She frowned, slightly worried. She hadn't been exactly expecting a repeat the human hurricane of yesterday so early in the morning, but she also hadn't anticipated her to look quite this subdued.
Brittany shook her head. "Yes and... no," she said slowly. "It was good for a while, and then it wasn't. I had a bad dream. Just before you came and picked me up yesterday, I found out that one of my favorite actors had died. She was only thirty-three. I dreamed that I was on a boat somewhere and I could hear her screaming for help."
"Oh." Santana stepped closer coming to rest at the edge of her bed. "That is very sad," she agreed, gently moving the hair from Brittany's face.
Brittany looked up at her hesitantly. "Did you hear about it?"
"No…" she said softly. "I'm sorry, I didn't."
Brittany nodded. Santana was kind of removed from everything here. She had a TV, and could watch movies, but there was no signal to watch the news channels or anything like that. It had been a solid near eighteen hours without any mention of COVID since she had arrived, which had truly been a blessing Brittany hadn't anticipated. An even greater blessing was that Santana was here, living, breathing and very much alive.
Brittany knew she would never ever take that for granted. Her heart ached for the TV star's family and friends who must be planning her funeral. She knew that if things that been ever so slightly different, she may have been in the exact same situation.
Santana coughed suddenly, an awful loud hacking cough. Brittany had heard it many times in the night, and then more in the morning when Axel had got up at dawn. He sounded far worse. It had startled her.
"Are you sick?"
"No Britts, I'm just really unhealthy." Santana shrugged with a little smile as if to say 'don't worry' but Brittany could tell that it did matter, and that she was worried too. "It's from smoking. They're gonna kill me, but I should probably roll another one."
"Do they calm you down?"
"Yes, and they can make me more focused. But the real reason I started smoking is because it is a socially accepted drug, despite being one of the worst drugs for you. I like it sometimes, but I don't like not having a smoke more... if that makes sense. I think that's where addiction starts to become a problem. When you are doing it not to gain positive benefits, but to avoid negative consequences. Same is true for all drugs."
Brittany looked down. She really hoped that Santana would live a really long time, she deserved a long and happy life. She wasn't sure if Santana was being one hundred percent serious or not, but she knew that she didn't want her to be unhealthy.
Santana had stepped back into the hallway about to go in search of a lighter, but seeing Brittany's face, she seemed to change her mind. She walked back over to where Brittany was sitting cross-legged on the bed and sat down beside her, pulling her legs up underneath her. She turned slightly to face her, clearly searching for some words to say.
"Did… I ever tell you about the time that I died?" she started, perhaps reading Brittany's thoughts.
Brittany's mind turned over the question considering this. "Was that… maybe the time that you went to Wonderland and fell through the earth?" She wasn't sure what had made her say that, but there was this tiny shred of memory trying to fight its way back into her brain. She closed her eyes. It was like trying to catch sand through a sieve. She just couldn't grab it.
"No, Britts, I think you're thinking of the time that I thought I'd died, though I don't know how you know about that. That time was when Axel and I had got hold of some stuff that was being sold at the time as 'legal weed.' I don't know if it's actually still legal now, but it wasn't really weed, it was chemicals sprayed onto Damiana leaves. We tried a little bit, and it was kind of funny feeling. When we got home, we had a cone of it. I started to not be able to stand properly, but it was still funny. Axel tried to get me in the back of the van where our bed was, but I couldn't make my body work enough to climb up, so he tried to pull me in. All of a sudden, I thought a man I didn't know was trying to pull me into the back of a random van. I knew it wasn't my van because it was full of surfboards." Santana made a sweeping gesture with her hands. "FYI, there were totally no surfboards. I started screaming blue murder and somehow managed to 'escape' to a field. The sky got dark, and I realised there were millions of bats coming to attack me. Then, a light came through the dark, and a face appeared. I thought it was the Wizard from Oz. The face tried to talk to me, but I couldn't understand it. Everything around me was on fire, I thought I must be dead, and this must be hell. So, I ran. I kept running for eternities. I couldn't escape the face, no matter how long or fast I ran. Then I fell through a rabbit hole to Wonderland. I was floating, falling, things were falling beside me. Eventually I saw that big stuffed dolphin you had given me once, and I realized I was back. I had made it outside, fallen on my back and was looking up into the sky looking up at Axel's face with the sun behind him."
Brittany sat very still just listening, hoping she would continue. When Santana didn't keep talking, she reached out and took her hand. The other girl had told that story with much eye-rolling, which meant that it wasn't exactly a story she was proud of.
Santana stared down at their hands for a moment and then sighed. "The time that I actually died, I had run out of all my usual vices, so Axel and I shared a bottle of wine. We were at my Abuela's house during that time when we were renovating it. I was tired and feeling pretty depressed so I said I wanted to go to bed. Axel said he was going down the road to see his friends. I remember this complete calm, this perfect darkness, a sense of total peace. Then I remember water. I had thrown up in my sleep lying on my back with my head between the pillows. Axel said he felt like something was wrong, so he came home to check on me. I was blue and not breathing when he found me. Completely unresponsive, and very embarrassingly I had soiled myself, which is why I know I did actually die. He cleaned out my airways, gave me CPR, and dragged me into the shower until I became conscious. If he'd been one minute later, I doubt he'd have been able to revive me."
This confession finally brought Brittany to life. "So, let me get this straight. Out of everything that you've ever done..."
Santana smiled wryly. "Yes, out of all of the stupid shit I'd ever done… and there honestly hasn't been much that I haven't done."
Brittany continued, "…a bottle of wine could have been the thing that got you?"
"Crazy right? Just a damn bottle of wine." Santana clearly couldn't believe it either.
Brittany counted on her fingers. "So, you thought you'd died once, actually died once, and nearly died how many times?"
"Well, if we're counting my near-death experiences, I can't put a number on that Britt, there's too many to count."
"That time in high school…" Brittany trailed off. She had never forgotten the time that Santana had ended up in hospital after overdosing on painkillers.
"Yes, that would definitely be one of them. But most recently I nearly died from serotonin syndrome from an interaction of prescribed antidepressants and painkillers. Honestly Britt, the time I thought I died, the times I nearly died, and the time I actually died, were all from legal substances, and in most cases, relatively small quantities. I have NEVER had anything so horrible happen to me from an illegal substance, and that should be way riskier, there is no quality control on the streets. The world is fucked up."
There was a brief silence.
Brittany tried to lighten the mood. "I feel like we're in Buffy" she suddenly said.
It took her a moment, but Santana got it. "Yeah, she so used to brag all the time about how many times she'd died didn't she?"
Brittany gave her a little smile. "We binge watched SO much Buffy in high school."
"Hey, I've died twice." Santana impulsively sung. She rolled her eyes at herself. She may not remember half her life, but for some reason she remembered the lyrics to every song in the musical episode of Buffy, and could probably quote the rest of the episode back-to-back too.
"That's when we used to get our sweet lady kisses on." Brittany declared.
Santana's eyes widened, and then she recovered. Brittany had apparently not lost her ability to be literal. Whereas other people could potentially bring up those kinds of moments as a 'come on' Brittany only ever stated things like that because they were true. She could tell that the other girl had no intentions here, she was simply trying very hard to understand her and what happened, and Santana appreciated her for that.
"Well, I had to lure you over to my place somehow. And I had to give some excuse to our parents as to why we needed to see each other after we had just spent all day together at school."
Brittany looked down at their joined hands. "Santana…" she said hesitantly.
Santana's voice was soft. "Yeah Britt?"
"You know what I told myself when we started talking again? I looked in the mirror, stared myself in the eye and I swore blind to myself that I would never ask you why you left. I said that it was your business, and it didn't matter now. And just as much, I swore to myself that it didn't matter if you left again. If we just got this week, and then that was it then I'd take it and be happy with that, because I didn't even think that I'd even see you again. But… it does matter because I don't want to lose you again. I always wondered if maybe it was my fault."
"Brittany, no." Santana squeezed her fingertips. "It was never you. I… it'll take me a while to give you all the pieces of the puzzle, but I'll try, and then I think you'll understand. Maybe it would be easier to tell you first why I didn't come back until now."
Brittany nodded. Leaving was one thing, but why Santana didn't initiate contact again for so long was another mystery altogether.
Santana took a deep breath and seemed to be trying to gather herself before she spoke. "It was because if I'd been in your life during that time, I would have ended up making your life worse. I'm man enough to admit that. It wouldn't have been healthy for you to get mixed up in the shit I was caught up in. I promise, if I'd let you near me then, you would still have bleeding scars."
"I like your scars," Brittany interjected. Santana was wearing shorts today, and many of her self-harm scars were visible. Brittany had never once thought that they were ugly, she had always believed that they were a reminder that Santana had been stronger than the things that had tried to hurt her.
"I like them too. But I meant like metaphorical scars on the inside of you, and not like these ones that are all healed up. A big part of the reason I wasn't there was because I didn't believe that I would be good for you."
"But Axel?" There was no anger or accusation in her voice, only the question itself.
"With Axel it was different, he was a part of it well before I even got there and had dealt with worse."
What was IT exactly? Brittany thought, still trying hard to follow.
Santana must have read the confusion on her face, because she suddenly clasped the hand she held in both of hers. "Britt, I never stopped loving you for one second, and it was really because of that that I stayed away. It completely sucked, but I promise, being around me back then would have sucked more. It is very much one of those "if you love them, let them go" cliches."
She paused. "And I can imagine that you must wonder why I didn't come back when my situation got better. It was because I didn't get better with it. Not for a long time. Like, it took me years. I'm still recovering now, but even stage one of the process took me about five years. So even though I was safer, the outcome was very much the same. I wasn't able to be a positive part of your life, nor was I mentally capable of asking or accepting your help."
"Maybe I could have helped though?" Brittany asked. "Having people who love you around could only have only helped right? Me protecting you, was just as important as you protecting me."
"Brittany… Listen… Love is not always equivalent to a healthy or good relationship. Things definitely get in the way. You have a to look at the whole picture. And things like depression or PTSD can all have huge impacts on a relationship. But… and forgive me for using what sounds like a negative term… to think that you can always fix that... well, its self-centered. Depression is not something you can fix even if you are the best girlfriend on the planet. And that hurts, and it's frustrating, and you wish upon every single star that you can make it better and… it's hard to understand why you can't make it better. You can try and help, absolutely. You do everything you can to not make it worse. But when it comes down to it, it's not about you, it's about the brain chemistry of the other person. You have about as much hope of fixing brain cancer with hugs and kisses. And it's not your job to make everything perfect. You can only ever do your best and hope that it's enough. But far too often, it's not. Taking that on board as your fault? That shit'll kill you. None of this was your fault."
Brittany leaned back against the headboard. She was listening carefully to all that was being said. She never took it for granted when someone sat her down and tried to explain things to her. Santana didn't have to. But she was here, and she was trying her hardest to explain the past.
"I know this is a lot Britt," Santana said gently.
"No, I'm okay," Brittany said in a strong voice. "I'm all good. I'm glad you're telling me this." She could see that Santana still wanted to tell her something.
Santana looked at Brittany and took courage from the unhurried calm and lack of judgement on her face. In a rush of words it all came out. "When I was gone, I stayed in New York City for a while, kind of hiding in plain sight and then Axel and I went rural. The government stole all our savings, which is a whole other story if you want to know that one. We had no job, were completely broke and homeless, so we spent months usually staying in campgrounds and living in our tent. My mom offered to pay us to fix up my Abuela's childhood home, so we came back and did that, but it took nine months instead of six because Axel fell off a bridge and broke his foot. Back to having no money. Then, enter no-man's land. We had friends a couple towns over from here who offered us a job, so we came out here. In the week it took us to get there, they lost their business. They said we could stay with them, but we couldn't find a job. We lived in our car in their backyard. Eventually they threatened to call the cops on us, and we had to leave. Then, we found a new room to stay in, and got a job at the only place we could find work.
Brittany leaned forward and hugged Santana tight. It wasn't a funny little awkward hug like before, she made sure it was a real one.
When they finally broke apart, Santana continued. "But it was dangerous there, and then they fired us. We lost $30,000 and the room we were renting."
"I'm glad you got out of there when you did," Brittany said finally.
"Me too. But after we got fired, we couldn't pay rent and got evicted. We couldn't find a house, so we moved in with some people, into their shed."
"Did you have food then? Were you safe and okay?"
"Sometimes. There was a lot of times when we had no food, running water, electricity, or internet. I was totally cut off from everyone. As hard as I tried, I couldn't fix it, I just couldn't cope anymore. I went on antidepressants, and that's when I had serotonin syndrome."
"What was that like?"
"Oh, it's a bit blurry because one of the symptoms is confusion. But your body just kind of loses control, it impacts cognition, temperature regulation, muscle functioning, heart rate, blood pressure." Santana checked it all off on her fingers, easily falling into her medical professional persona.
"At the extreme you get fatal fevers, seizures, heart in coordination, unconsciousness, even death. I didn't go to hospital, but it was very close. I didn't get a seizure, but very bad temperature misregulation and heart palpitations. My brain was all over the place, I couldn't really think. That was a really hard time. I barely left my house, couldn't cope with anything, I was terribly depressed and unable to work. In those days I didn't even try to get out of bed without having a cone, I'd had one before my feet even touched the floor."
Brittany nodded, forcing herself to be strong for Santana, but really she wanted to cry for her, hearing all this.
Santana looked up and saw her face. "It's okay Britt, it gets better. Well, actually it got worse before it got better. But bear with me. We left there when they let a bunch of loser junkies move into the house, and the place got raided by cops and we nearly got arrested. But then we moved somewhere better for a while, it was a tiny little studio, not really a house but it was attached to 20 acres of beauty and the rent was cheap. It was the first place that had felt like a home to me in years. After a year I decided I was ready to start doing something again. I thought I'd do an animal science degree externally, but when they looked at my grades from my last degree, they said I could get into vet school. I learned to drive again, and then all of a sudden they are giving me all these awards and I'm looking at job prospects in anything I want, in pretty much any country in the world if I wanted to. Twenty-four months ago, I couldn't even get a job at Subway."
Santana sat back, exhausted from all these admissions and Brittany nodded her understanding and matched her pose. It was time for a break. She could tell that the story was far from over, but understood that the rest would take time. They had only really been back in each other's lives again for less than twenty-four hours. For now, she was just happy that she now knew that Santana had found her way onto a better path in life.
"Seriously Britt, this degree is better than I dreamt. It's like I'm a whole new person. Like I make a difference again."
You always made a difference Santana, Brittany thought. Soon I'll tell you just what a difference you've made, to so many lives around the world.
3 Random Things
1. I have never been more terrified in my life to hit the update button. You guys all mean so much to me, and so does this story. I really wanted to do "Santana" justice. This was all very personal. She's had it much harder than I have, and we both wanted to tell you what had really happened.
You know, I wasn't even this scared when I posted the very first chapter all those years ago, because this time it's different. This time I feel like I've got something to lose. I really tried my best to write in kind of the original format that I did back then. Hopefully I did an okay job :)
I actually haven't written anything since I was last here, for some reason I just couldn't, like that fire in me had burned out. But, somehow as soon as I sat down to write this, it felt like it ignited again.
2. We didn't have cheerleader uniforms, but we did have these iconic other uniforms that we were wearing for like 90% of the time we saw each other in those days. We took photos and "Santana" uploaded them to Facebook that night. We tagged them like they were throwback pics from back in the day. and counted how many people we fooled. Everyone fell for it, even her own mom! It was so funny.
3. For those hoping to work in the mental health profession you're awesome, and please don't be discouraged by how it went for me. In the end I was too sensitive and perhaps too far along the autism spectrum to make it, but it doesn't mean you won't.
My beautiful partner "Shaylen" is all good with me writing this, she has always been so supportive of me. She understands that is important that I tell this story. I also have "Santana's" permission now to write about this. More about that in the next chapter though.
Last but definitely not least, when I was talking about the actress who had passed away, I was of course referring to the late great Naya Rivera. The world found out what happened to on her on the exact same day that I saw "Santana" again. There's not much I can say about her that hasn't already been said, but I know how dearly she is loved by this community. She was such an amazing talent and the heart of Glee. I still can't believe that she is really gone.
Hope to see you guys again around April fool's day (no joke!) for Chapter 29 :)