Title: Some Things Are Meant To Be [Part Thirteen: Part One]
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3.6k
Notes: This is a little short, but I wanted to get a little something out as quickly as possible.

/

It's snowing.

Not raining.

But snowing.

Which actually doesn't make her walk through the city that bad because she's not getting soaking wet (well, apart from her feet) – but she's kind of damning the weather too because had it been raining, it would've been like a cosmic approval of her feelings. Whatever; she's just babbling to try and take her mind off things because she can just imagine it now, snow falling, pale skin glowing, white dress flowing… Brittany looking painfully beautiful…

It's just swimming around in her brain and she passes person after person on the sidewalk, catching a glimpse of their expression and wondering what they're going through as a distraction. She wonders if they're dealing with their own things. She wonders if they've got their own pain, their own problems. She wonders if their hearts are broken and if their worlds feel like their falling apart.

She wonders a lot about life in general.

There's always been this part of her that considered how she would deal with life after Brittany. Sure, for twenty-one years she lived without her in her life. She got through every day, happy as she could've been at that point in time, but Brittany was like a hurricane, rushing into her life and turning everything she knew upside down. There was never the fear though, there was never the panic of what a beautiful disaster like Brittany could do, and really, she was naïve for that.

In fact, she was naïve for ever believing her and Brittany would become anything.

She was naïve for sticking around, for acting like a lapdog for Brittany because if she asks herself, Brittany doesn't deserve her. Brittany never chose her. Brittany always chose him. There was never a moment where Brittany decided Santana was the one for her. There was never a dramatic moment where Brittany threw Jason away for her and declared her love for her, and even now, as she's walking through her city, trying to forget white dresses and bullshit vows, she knows the best thing for her would be to disappear from this, from Brittany, from everything. Just get on a plane and leave.

That's the only way she can see this situation getting better.

But on the other hand, if Brittany didn't deserve her, then why did she stick around? She's Santana Lopez. She doesn't take shit from anyone. If Brittany didn't deserve her, if Brittany didn't love her, Santana wouldn't have stuck around… Would she?

Fuck. Why is she even thinking about this? It's completely irrelevant.

Brittany's getting married. Maybe she even is married now, and that's it.

There's no what if, or maybe, or possibly.

It's over.

/

She doesn't even know what time it is.

Her cell phone is back in the apartment, left purposefully, and she didn't even think about putting her watch on. So for what feels like hours–what could possibly be hours, actually–she just wanders around the city, smoking cigarette after cigarette after stopping at a market to buy a pack of twenty and being entirely shocked by the price of these things now.

It doesn't really take her mind off things; she doesn't know if anything could, but she knows one hundred percent that it's better than sitting in apartment, reminiscing about her and Brittany's time together over the years. She knows that for sure. So she just keeps walking and walking, the snow falling down and her clothing getting wetter and wetter until she's forced to head beneath shelter, into a small café and warm up.

/

The taste of coffee is bitter against her tongue, but it soothes the scratch in her throat and she tilts her head back against the cushioned seat, eyes fixated on the snowflakes melt against the glass. It's strangely peaceful being here, and if it weren't for all the other shit going on in her life she would actually be quite content.

Although she acknowledges that this world is reality, and she can't do shit about it.

Oh well.

/

By the time she's finished her coffee, her feet are dry, and so is her coat. She gets up from the cushioned seat and checks for any dust before polishing off the miniscule amount of coffee at the base of her mug.

Though as she does it, something catches her attention out the corner of her eye and she damn near spins around to press her face up against the glass, palms flat on it and everything. The rings on her right hand connect with it, making a slight clang but she doesn't really care because she could've sworn she saw…

No. She couldn't have.

Why would Brittany be here? Why would she be outside a small coffee shop on the Upper East Side? Also, thousands of people have blonde hair and blue eyes, and Santana's just thinking about Brittany–when is she not?–so naturally the second she catches a glimpse of something remotely relating to her woman, her head spins and heart begins to race.

But it's ridiculous anyway.

Regardless of whether or not she saw Brittany–which she most definitely didn't–what would she even say to her? Would she even say anything to her or just put her head down and walk away?

Jesus. She shouldn't be thinking about this. It's completely ridiculous.

She needs to get out of here. She thinks she might be going mad.

Swiftly, she throws her coat across her shoulders and does up a few buttons, moving out the coffee shop door with a light head bob to the barista.

(She doesn't realize one of her gloves sits on the chair she just walked away from, left behind alone.)

/

The next journey Santana embarks on is only small, because before she even consciously decides where to go, she's already there.

Her hands shake as she steps up to the railings, her eyes taking in the scenery around her, yet she still places them down on the cold metal, wincing slightly at the temperature. She's far too distracted with how this place looks exactly the same as it did all those years ago though that she barely registers it, instead shifting further until the tips of her boots collide with the glass separating her from a drop.

She knows she only visited here with Brittany a few months back, but she didn't really get a good look at it.

Not like she is now, anyway.

Trees still surround the ice rink. There's still that cute little refreshment stand down to the left where she bought her and Brittany their first ever coffee. The size of the ice rink itself still astounds her… It's just scary that it really is just the same, frozen in time.

She wishes her and Brittany had been frozen in time. Maybe things would've been easier.

Or not.

Maybe she and Brittany were doomed from the start. Sure, meeting at the club was a random event, but from there it really went downhill.

Maybe she should've just walked away from Brittany after the club incident.

Maybe she shouldn't have agreed to get out of there, and instead just walked away.

But maybe… Maybe they would've found a way back to each other if they hadn't. Maybe they were destined to be in each other's lives, like that old Chinese tale about the red string, stretching as far as possible but finding their way in the end. Maybe they would've bumped into each other again, or there would've been some strength… Some magic… Some power in the universe that brought them to meet.

It could be anything, but Santana will never know.

So there's no point in wondering.

Without another breath or thought, she pushes away from the railing and walks away from the ice rink, never looking back.

(Just like she should've done years ago.)

/

The wind is strong against her, and she almost wishes she had a hood because her face is getting really cold but of course she doesn't, and so the only option is to duck into a market to buy another pack of smokes and stand beneath the stores alcove, filling her lungs with toxicity while she waits for the weather to calm down. Although, of course, the second she sparks up, the snow is quickly joined by rain and then there's sleet filling the street and it looks as if she's not going home just yet.

So she stands there, watching people run across the street with bags, newspapers and all sorts of things covering their heads and stands aside to let them get in and out the shop.

Although she's so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she doesn't recognize a familiar face until there's a finger tapping her on the shoulder and she turns around to find big brown eyes staring up at her and a smile that could light up any town. Because of course, it has to be someone she knows, and it has to be someone that she could lean on in this time of need.

Which kind of really sucks because she wanted to be alone, she wanted to mope, and she has this horrible feeling inside her stomach that this person is going to do their damn best to cheer her up.

"Santana," Dani says, her voice light and cheerful. Her eyes scan over Santana's appearance, taking her in and it's obvious the way she looks, but the girls face doesn't change. "What brings you out in this damn awful weather?"

Santana swallows, tries a smile. "Just needed some smokes," she gestures to her cigarette. "And you?"

Dani winks and holds her up hand. "Me too," she chuckles lightly, pulling out a single and putting it between her lips. "Do you want to get out of here and go somewhere a little warmer?" Dark eyes glance at the weather and flick back. Santana watches her and knows there's nothing but good intentions behind her question and that she's not trying to pick Santana up. "There's a diner across the street and I don't know about you, but I'm pretty darn hungry."

There's a lot of things Santana should be doing right now, including sorting her life out and finding a way to live knowing the love of her life is now married to a fucking jackass, but honestly? Getting something to eat with this girl, this random girl who came into her life all those months ago, sounds like the best thing that's ever been offered to her. It almost sounds as good as skipping ahead three years to a place where she's happy, when she's over Brittany and smiling because she doesn't have to try, not because it's forced.

So she takes in deep breath, flicks the butt of the cigarette into the street and shrugs her shoulders. "Better than standing in the street getting cold and wet I guess," she says lightly.

Dani loops her arm through Santana's and bumps her hip gently. "Pancakes on me," she winks.

And well, Santana hasn't had a better offer from any of her actual friends, so why the fuck not.

/

It only takes about five minutes for her to break and spill out the story of her life, including the wedding and everything.

Dani listens, her hands wrapped around a warm cup of coffee and Santana feels like she can say anything. She feels like this girl has wandered into her life out of nowhere and won't judge her for a single thing and honestly, she'll be fucked if there's someone better out there willing to do the same. Quinn hasn't even tried talking to her since she made the comment about Beth, Puck made her feel like a piece of crap and somehow turned the whole situation around to make her look like the bad guy and Brittany… Well, she wasn't exactly an option when considering who to talk to.

And Dani's different. She can give an outsiders perspective. She can listen and not judge and give opinions that no-one else can.

So even when the pancakes come, Santana just keeps talking and talking, somehow managing a laugh when Dani points out the maple syrup dribbling down her chin.

/

It's funny how she could've talked to anyone, even a therapist, and never thought about this.

It's funny how she should've gone for months and months, and never thought about what she has to do.

But more so, it's funny how she never realized what she had to do, until now.

Because really, it was the answer all along.

/

"…It just got so fucked up, and now I don't know what I'm doing about anything anymore."

That's the last sentence of a very long story, and Santana breathes out heavily, leans back in the booth and shrugs her shoulders at the girl opposite her, wondering whether she should've shut up about fifteen minutes ago. Especially when Dani doesn't say anything and just sits there, arms folded over her chest, head tilted, lips sucked inside her mouth and her eyes narrowed like she's trying to find a needle in a haystack.

Shit. What if she's freaked this girl out? The only person willing to give her advice about her fucked up life?

Fuck.

"Was that too much?" She asks cautiously, gnawing on her bottom lip, eyes squinting. All of a sudden she gets this hot, spiking feeling across her skin; something that resembles embarrassment, and she clears her throat, cursing herself for unloading her entire fucking life on this kind stranger and wonders how the hell she can get home from this diner because she needs to leave. Like, pronto. "Sorry, I don't know why I told you all of that, I just–"

"Santana," Dani's voice echoes through her ears and she snaps her head up, eyes going to similar brown ones as Dani touches her arm carefully, the warmth making her skin tingle. "Santana, calm down." She smiles, as if to ease the panic. "I was just thinking the right way to phrase what I'm about to say."

Feeling more like a dick now for making a scene over nothing, Santana settles down and takes a long, deep breath. She's so edgy and jumpy today. She just needs to calm the fuck down.

(Wouldn't that be nice?)

"In the nicest way possible, Santana…" Dani starts and glances away quickly before going back, eyes narrowed further. "What's keeping you here now?"

It feels like some kind of epiphany.

She never knew four words could mean so much because all of a sudden, it's like her entire life flashes before her eyes. She sees kindergarten when she kicked Toby Cunningham in the shins for pushing her over. She sees middle school where she aced her math exam. She sees high school where she was excluded from all the other girls because she wasn't normal and ended up meeting Puck on the football team and somehow befriending the head cheerleader Quinn Fabray as well after long years of being bullied by the same girl.

She sees herself losing her virginity when she was 17. She sees her dad walk out on her when she was 5. She sees Brittany, staring up at her with those big blue eyes and an ice pack on her head when she was 21.

She sees all of it, but then she's blinded when it comes to her 25 year old self, wondering why the hell she's stuck in this town when there's nothing here acting as her anchor anymore.

There's nothing routing her to this place. No job. No girlfriend. No magnificent friends.

Nothing.

Apart from this random girl she met all those months ago, staring at her across the table, and that isn't near enough to keep her.

"So what is it? Brittany's married, Puck and Quinn are shacking up and you feel all alone? There's nothing, Santana," Dani whispers, setting her hand over a tanned one. "You have to do what you want to do," she continues. "Not what everybody else wants you to do," she wets her lips. "After all, it's about your happiness, not anyone else's… And clearly you're not happy so you need to change something."

Santana stares at the girl, chewing her lip.

And she says no more, just nods into the sip of coffee she takes.

Because maybe she's just got her answer.

Maybe, she's just got her ending.

/

"I better get going."

Santana's almost sad when Dani announces she has to leave, but the girl told her when they came in she had a shift starting soon and so it's not exactly unexpected. Still, it feels like this girl, this friend, has helped her discover something she didn't know was there, so when Dani gets up, Santana gets up too and offer her arms out.

It feels weird, because they don't know each other, but somehow Santana feels like she's going to miss her. She feels like they could've been friends, could've been more in another life, and so when Dani steps into her arms and wraps her warmth around her, Santana hugs her tight and feels the goodbye in her embrace because her mouth can't say it.

"I hope you find what you're looking, Santana Lopez," the girl says, moving away a little.

Santana exhales slowly, bobs her head and sticks her hands in her soaked jeans. "Thank you, pop-up girl," she chuckles lightly. "I'm gonna miss randomly bumping into you."

Dani smiles softly, sadly, and cups Santana's cheek. "You deserve a better life," she tells her with complete confidence. "So do what you have to do to get it," she says, and without hesitation, leans in and kisses her, her lips soft against Santana's. She pulls back and strokes her cheek one last time before pulling her coat tight and walking out of the diner, and of Santana's life.

/

There's only so many places she can go before Santana's too cold, too miserable, and too tired to do anything but go back to an apartment that smells like her and pass out.

So she trudges there, through the mushed snow, with her coat as tight as possible wrapped around her body and her hands quaking in her pockets, one of them playing with the lighter that doesn't work anymore whilst the other wishes it was holding another cigarette. But her brain is telling her three packs is enough today, and that smoking won't kill the pain inside her heart, and for that she's slightly grateful.

She doesn't want to wake in the morning, coughing her lungs up.

The door is stiff, so she uses her shoulder to barge it open. Damn cold. Makes everything in this stupid apartment cold and stiff now. It never used to be this cold when Brittany was here. It used to be a warm. It used to be somewhere she'd look forward to coming home to because it'd smell like vanilla and sunshine and there'd be a smile on a beautiful blondes face when she breezed through the door.

Fuck.

Her hands steady her, braced against the side table by the door as she tumbles inside, but she regains her balance and swiftly kicks off her boots, shaking her head to get the snow out it. Long dark locks flow over her shoulder and she cracks her neck, removing her coat only to throw it over the back of the sofa.

The walk to the kitchen is short so she doesn't bother turning on the light, instead deciding on whether or not she's still hungry. Though just as she's opening the fridge to witness the lack of contents, she registers something in the corner of her eye. She palms the fridge door, her body bent at the hip and she tries to figure out whether or not her mind wants to see that there's someone sitting in the armchair in the corner of the living room, or whether there is actually someone there.

Her heart pounds faster and faster as the seconds go by, and she straightens up slowly, scared she'll shake the image should she move too fast. Now that she's standing up properly, she's more aware of the figure because her eyes are adjusting, but she still doesn't look over there, instead choosing to get on with what she was about to do and grabs a water bottle out the fridge before closing it and walking over to the sofa, standing behind it to look at her visitor.

No point in delaying the inevitable.

"What do you want?" She asks, loud and clear.

Her visitor just looks up and her, the corner of their lip lifting. "To know what you're about to do."

/

Yeah, I know. But I wanted something to keep you guys hanging on ;)

Review if you feel so inclined.