A/N: You are all wonderful :)
Trigger warning: Depression, counselling and all that jazz (Please take note of the A/N at the end…).
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee :(
CHAPTER 5
She'd been expecting it. She knew Britt was going to ask her at some point. In all honesty, she hadn't expected it to be the very first question thrown at her.
She winced and stared at the water.
She's trying to help me. She's trying to make me – us – better.
Santana swallowed and winced again at the Mars-sized lump in her throat.
"San?"
Fingers found hers and interlocked.
"Baby, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere, okay?"
Santana just nodded quickly, trying to muster up the courage to verbally recount that horrible day.
"Maybe I should start," Brittany mumbled, almost to herself. She squeezed Santana's hands. "Okay, I thought everything was fine when we got back after the f-funeral." She paused for a moment and Santana just brought their joined hands up to her lips and brushed them across the back of Brittany's slightly shaky hand. The blonde let out a relieved breath and their eyes met. It gave Santana that extra little bit of strength she needed to find her voice.
"I know that I did a one-eighty on you," she started quietly, her eyes flitting back to the water. "I know that I left you completely confused about what was going on and Britt, I need you to know how sorry I am for doing that. I swore after everything that happened in junior year, I'd be completely honest with you about what I was feeling and I totally went back on that."
Brittany didn't say anything, just soothingly moved her thumb back and forth across the back of her wife's hand. Similarly, her feet brushed Santana's ankles every few seconds. Santana found it very calming.
"I…" She took a deep breath and closed her eyes as she exhaled. This is gonna be hard. "I knew that I needed to do something and see someone. I…I treated you horribly before the funeral. Both you and Bella. When you asked me to see someone, I know it was for both of us. It was like I was outside my body and I saw how I was treating you – all of you, but I just…I couldn't stop myself." She shook her head. "It wasn't just the grief. The only good thing that came out of that disastrous session was that, even though it remained in the back of my mind until recently, I realised that I still have a lot of fear that I need to deal with. I always thought that all my fear was linked to you. In a way, I suppose it is. I'm absolutely terrified of losing you, Britt." She lifted her gaze from the water and met equally blue orbs that were shimmering with barely concealed emotion. "I wake up every day petrified that something is going to happen that will take you away from me and leave me broken and alone again. I know what that feels like and it scares me so much that I might, someday, feel that way again."
"Baby," Brittany whispered in a choked voice. Two tears ran down her face.
Santana just nodded. "When we were younger," she continued softly, "my fear was being with you. Sometimes I laugh at how stupid I was."
Brittany quietly tsked her choice of words.
"I was, though, B. I was the one that was always hurting you. I kept pushing you away because I was scared of what people would think, of what my family would think." She swallowed. "I was scared, so scared, of what you thought."
Brittany sighed almost inaudibly. There was no exasperation or irritation. Santana knew that it was more a way to expel some of the emotion that was building up inside her wife.
"Of course, you were just always so wonderful, telling me every day how nothing could make you stop loving me. Everything you did was just so…wonderful. It was so you. And I am beyond sorry that I couldn't let the wonder that is you just envelop me like I have since senior year. I was still scared, every day, Britt, but what made it okay, what made me wake up with a smile on my face was the knowledge that you loved me regardless of my fear."
"I still do," Brittany whispered, taking the brief in Santana's speech to interject.
"I know you do." Tears started to track down Santana's face. "That's why you're so wonderful. No matter what I do, no matter how much I fuck up or bad things I say, you still love me and I don't d-deserve you."
Brittany's arms immediately went around her and pulled Santana into her side. Her lips rested against the Latina's temple and she stroked her hair with her free hand, the other still firmly clasped with her wife's.
"We were made for each other, Santana. Whether or not you think you deserve me, I know that we deserve each other because I can't be with anyone else. And neither can you. Baby, I know you treated us badly in high school, but I also know why you did it, which is why I loved you so unconditionally the way I did. That's what I want to do here. I want to know why so that you can love yourself again, and not let this fear or guilt swallow you in again. Does that make sense?"
Santana nodded, but kept her face buried in her wife's neck for a few more minutes as she composed herself. As soon as she lifted her and wiped her eyes, Brittany gripped her chin and held her gaze.
"I love you, Santana Lopez. I have for most of my life and I will for the rest of it. You are my soulmate and my match in every possible way. I believe in you and I believe in the strength of what we have."
Santana couldn't look away and hated how the perfect vision of her wife blurred with tears. Even through her tears, she saw Brittany leaning in and she returned the kiss desperately.
I can't let him win.
Don't worry, my love, her inner Brittany said in that soft, soothing voice. We won't let him win.
Ten minutes later, Santana and Brittany were curled up in the hammock that James Pierce had constructed in the back yard the summer before middle school. Brittany and Santana had quickly claimed it, much to the chagrin of the man who had built it. But he got over it very quickly. The two of them had spent most of their summer days in that hammock, reading or just talking. Often, they had taken an afternoon nap, comfortably snuggled against each other underneath the trees.
Of course, back then, it hadn't scared Santana as much as it had in high school. Hanging out with her best friend and snuggling were totally acceptable pastimes.
Santana listened to her wife's gentle heartbeat that she could tell was beating a little faster than usual. Whether that was because of her or because of the baby, she didn't know.
I need to beat this. I need to get rid of this asshole in my head because my wife is having our baby and I need to be there for her. I have to be myself. I have to be strong.
Her arm tightened around Brittany, her forearm resting comfortably in the space underneath her wife's breasts.
"I walked into her office, not knowing what to expect. I just knew I had to get rid of this horrible feeling of abandonment."
Brittany's arm was holding Santana securely against her, her fingers dipping just underneath the material of her shirt so that she could trace the caramel skin lightly. Her other hand was placed on top of Santana's, her fingers moving up and down her wife's arm every now and then.
"It looked like any normal office, which made me feel a little better about admitting that I'd fucked up. It felt like…a safe space. I think that's what shrinks like to call it." She lifted a shoulder in thought. "She was running a little late. I was her first appointment. When she came in, I remember immediately being on my guard. She looked pissed. She barely said hello to the receptionist before she disappeared into her office. I thought maybe she'd just hit some bad traffic – not that there's any other kind in New York."
She felt Brittany's chest vibrate a little as she chuckled. It made her smile briefly and nuzzle her nose against the material on Brittany's shirt right over her heart. Brittany kissed her head and squeezed her hip to encourage her to continue.
"After about five minutes, she came out of her office, looking totally composed and professional, so I figured she was the real deal. Like, whatever bullshit morning she had, it got left behind and she focused on her clients. I could appreciate that, you know?" She sighed. "I went in and took a seat. She asked me why I was there and I told her about my dad and how I'd lost it." She paused, her heart aching at what felt like such a fresh, fresh wound, only hours old. She wondered if that void would ever be filled again. She doubted it.
"She asked about you, about our married life. When she found out that we'd only been married a few weeks and had a seven-year-old daughter, she gave me this look." Unwillingly, she shuddered as she remembered. "She looked at me like I was the biggest idiot in the world. Sh-She asked me ab-bout Bella's father, about that night. I didn't see what that had to do with anything, but I told her anyway and she started laughing."
"What?" Brittany asked in confusion.
"Yeah, I was really confused as to why she was laughing. I mean, nothing about it was funny. Well, unless she happened to find drinking so much that you pass out funny." She took another breath. "I wanted to be angry, but I remembered how I'd promised you and Bella that I would do it, that I wouldn't disappear on you again." She scoffed.
"Stop that," Brittany berated softly.
"Sorry," Santana mumbled, taking a moment to inhale Brittany's scent. She closed her eyes and let the wonderful aroma just calm her irritation. "Okay. So I waited for her to finish. When she did, she looked me right in the eye and told me if I was happy with my life, with the choices that I'd made. I thought it was another weird question, but having never done the whole psychiatrist/psychologist thing before, I didn't know what to expect. Lord knows you can't trust what TV shows tell you. So I tried to be as honest as I could. I told her that I was very happy with you, that you meant the world to me. I told her that Bella was our beautiful ray of sunshine. I told her about school and how well were developing the arts programme. I thought I'd come across as pretty, you know, sane or whatever. I said that I was happy. You made me happy."
She shut her eyes as the guilt flared in her chest. "And then she asked me about my choices. She asked about how I chose to raise a child out of wedlock, how I chose to never find Bella's father, how I chose to marry a woman, how I chose to shut you all out. She said that if I'd chosen to do that, then maybe I didn't love you enough, that maybe you didn't make me happy." She sucked in a shaky breath. "She said that maybe I made the wrong choice in keeping Bella and marrying you."
"What?" Brittany hissed.
Santana could feel her wife's hands shaking with her contained rage. She pushed herself up, needing to look at Brittany as she confessed her guilt.
"Britt, I'm so sorry. I just couldn't stop thinking about it. I don't know how, but she twisted everything that I'd done in my life and made it seem like my choices led up to my father's death. If I hadn't broken up with you, I wouldn't have had Bella. If I hadn't had Bella, I wouldn't have been estranged from my parents. If I hadn't had been estranged, they may not have been at that gas station that night. My d-dad would st-still be alive."
"Oh, sweetie." Brittany wrapped both arms around Santana as tears ran uncontrollably down her face. "Come here."
Santana wiggled her body so that she was laying on top of Brittany, her face buried into the crook of her neck. The hammock swayed slightly, almost like a soothing rocking chair motion.
"I'm sorry, Brit. I'm so, so sorry. I didn't want to believe her, but she just really got me thinking and I felt so guilty about everything and-" She hiccupped an end to her own jumbled rant and then started sobbing.
Brittany hummed Songbird as she held her, keeping the swaying motion of the hammock constant.
"Did you really think that you were to blame for your dad's death?" she asked after a while.
"I don't know," Santana whispered back. "I felt like I needed to blame someone. I felt…I felt like it had to my fault somehow. I don't know…maybe my insecurities were taking over."
"That definitely sounds like that's what happened," Brittany mused. "I can understand that part, San, but what made you check out on us?"
Santana tried to control her breathing again, closing her eyes and taking in the feeling of Brittany's collarbone and sternum underneath her fingertips.
"When I didn't say anything after her whole choice speech, she started talking about how perhaps my father was taken from me because I wasn't living the life he wanted for me, and his death was my p-punishment."
"Jesus," Brittany murmured.
Santana could tell that she was mad. She just hoped that it wasn't directed at her.
Although she'd have good reason to. You do realise how pathetic this all sounds, right? You let some stranger redefine your life and plant these seeds of doubt in your mind that, a month before, you would have scoffed at.
"Shut up," she cried into Brittany's neck.
"Don't listen to him, baby."
"I'm trying," she sobbed. "Everything he says has an element of truth."
"Perhaps it does, but that truth could be warped. We both know how that can happen. Truth is what people want it to be. This chick seems like a fine example of the warped kind."
Santana was quiet for a while. "I feel like an idiot for believing her, for letting what she said affect me so much. The final nail in the coffin was when she said that my father was taken from me and that you'd be next. You'd leave me when you realised that all my choices had led up to that point."
Santana heard Brittany mutter something that sounded like I'm gonna kill that bitch.
Instead, the blonde sighed heavily and held Santana tightly to her. "San, thank you for telling me what happened. I think I can understand why you disappeared. Not only is this a step – a big step – in the right direction for us, I feel like you just telling the story is going to really help you."
"I hope so," Santana whispered, not entirely convinced.
"We'll get there," Brittany promised, kissing her forehead. "It may take a while, but we will get there."
That's why you're doing this. For them. For your family.
"Britt, wh… Do you think I'm a coward?" she asked timidly.
"Oh, honey, I definitely don't. I think that you could have handled things differently and I think you know that too. But we'll dive into that another day. I'm so proud of you for telling me what happened. Thank you, San."
Santana lifted her head in confusion. "That's it?"
Brittany gave her a warm smile. "This is a marathon, baby. We've got a long way to the finish line. If we don't take every step purposefully, we're going to stumble and perhaps even do more damage."
"Okay," Santana breathed. "You have the best metaphors."
The blonde grinned. "Well, my wife is this super sexy hotshot writer chick. She teaches me all kinds of linguistics."
Santana blushed and ducked her head again. Brittany chuckled and continued holding her close. They lay together for a good few minutes in silence, just listening to the long forgotten sounds of Lima. Santana almost missed the quiet of small-town suburbia.
Almost.
"Honey, even if you feel guilt or feel ashamed, that's okay. I mean, I obviously don't want you to feel those things, but I do know you pretty well, and – like you said – you'll find a way to blame yourself. Like you did for our fifth grade volcano science project."
"But that was my fault. I forgot to plug it in so that the batteries could charge overnight," Santana mumbled into warm skin.
"And yet you never once blamed me for not putting chargeable batteries into the switch box."
"Well, you were in charge of decorating. It wasn't your responsibility!" Santana protested, lifting her head.
"And it was never your responsibility to shoulder this grief alone," Brittany countered, her eyes shining fiercely. "We are a partnership, Santana. We always have been. We need to tackle things together that are too big for us to take on alone."
"I know," Santana whispered. "I do feel…"
"Ashamed? Silly? Guilty?" Brittany provided in a completely non-mean way.
Santana nodded, keeping her eyes on her wife's neck. God, she loved that neck.
"That's fine, San. I don't mind that you feel those things. I'd rather you felt that than nothing at all. I'd rather have you feeling all these overwhelmingly negative things instead of the shadow that you've been for the last seven weeks. This is progress for me, do you understand that?"
The Latina nodded again.
"Good." Brittany kissed her cheek. "I'm glad we're on the same page."
She coaxed Santana to relax into her again, which the Latina did gratefully. They both sighed.
"We'll talk more tomorrow, okay?" Brittany said softly.
"'Kay," Santana mumbled sleepily. God, she felt exhausted all of a sudden.
"You wanna take a nap? I know you didn't sleep much last night. And God knows you haven't slept well at all over the last few weeks."
Santana just nodded, the guilt and shame welling up within her.
"Just sleep with me, San. Like we used to in middle school. Summer afternoon naps with you were so much fun because we'd always lay like this and I could watch you."
"Creep," Santana mumbled before she could stop herself.
Brittany giggled. "We'll nap out here for a bit, okay?"
"Okay," she replied, resting her hand over Brittany's heart. "I love you, B."
"I love you, San. Forever and ever."
Around twenty minutes later, Santana blinked her eyes open slowly, coming out of her nap gloriously relaxed. She always felt relaxed when her wife was holding her so closely and humming ever so softly. The rocking hammock almost lulled her back to sleep, but Santana was reluctant to squander precious alone and quiet time with Brittany.
"Hey there, sleeping beauty," Brittany whispered into her hair.
"Sleeping, yes. Beauty, hardly," Santana mumbled, turning her face against her wife's chest.
Brittany chuckled. "Oh, San. There will never be a day where you aren't beautiful to me."
Santana blinked, emotion swelling in her heart.
God, she is just so fucking perfect. So perfect.
She pushed herself up a bit so that she could say what she wanted to while looking into the most captivating eyes in the world.
"Britt, thank you for this. Thank you for waiting for me, for putting up with my crazy and for making so much effort when I put nothing in."
Brittany just smiled. "While you were sleeping, I was thinking about something that we can use going forward. I think that we could it in the future and not just now while we're dealing with all this."
Santana just nodded, lifting her eyebrows in anticipation of Brittany's idea. So far, she'd already done wonders in Santana's books. Then again, her wife was pretty fucking awesome.
"I'm not going to say that things are okay. Like, if you apologise for doing something wrong, I'm not going to say 'it's okay', because chances are, it probably won't be. Instead, I'm going to say 'I understand', and I'll only be able to say that if I really do." She sighed and furrowed her brow. "I don't think I'm explaining this very well."
"I think I understand," Santana replied, leaning her chin on Brittany's shoulder.
"You do?"
"Well, tell me if I'm on the right track here. Instead of saying 'it's okay' to my gratitude, you want to say 'I understand' because you understand why I was like that. Well, now you do."
Brittany nodded. "Exactly. I don't want us to be in this position again, San. Even if the roles are reversed, I want us to have a fail-safe that will ensure that we will be able to deal with it."
"Total disclosure."
"Total disclosure," the blonde agreed. "That way, if one of us does something, we'll be able to say 'I understand' with clarity. And we can move past it instead of getting stuck." Brittany dropped her gaze. "I have felt stuck these last few weeks, San, and I hated the uncertainty of everything. I didn't know what to do differently to try and help you. I…I mean, I've always known how to handle your mood swings and your temper, but this just…I hated not knowing what to do." Her voice dropped to a whisper towards the end.
Santana carefully sat up and straddled Brittany in the hammock, bracing herself by resting her hands on her wife's hips. They'd had plenty of practice working out how to maintain their balance in just about any position.
"Britt, I am sorry. I know that I'm going to say that so much over the next few days and weeks that it may become redundant, but I need you to know that I am so sorry that I made you feel like that. You are the very definition of wonderful and you're the most patient person I know. I'm happy to try anything that you suggest, and I really think that this is something that will work a lot for us. I think that in the past we maybe brushed things off as 'okay' when they actually weren't." She rolled her eyes. "Like me always trying to hide the fact that I was so completely in love with you."
Brittany grinned up at her. "And like you always trying to act like you were a top when really, you so love being a bottom."
"Britt!" Santana squeaked as her wife squeezed her ass affectionately.
The blonde laughed and it was heavenly. Santana felt a goofy smile cross her face.
"How can you say you're not beautiful?" Brittany murmured, lifting one of her hands to trace the Latina's face. "You're so beautiful that I feel like I could stare at you forever and never get bored."
"Oh, B. I feel the exact same way. You can totally call me a creep, but I have watched you sleep so many times because I just…" She let out a breath. "Watching you gives me feel the most incredible sense of calm. I feel like nothing can ever go wrong when I'm stuck in my cocoon with you."
Brittany smiled and guided her wife towards her. "I understand," she whispered before joining their lips.
Santana and Brittany walked inside, their fingers entangled, just as whatever Bella had been watching on the TV in the lounge was ending.
"Moms!" she cheered with a big smile.
"Hey, baby girl. What did you watch?"
"Finding Dory," Bella gushed. "It's still so funny."
Santana chuckled. "I'll bet."
"What's next, Mommy?"
The blonde grinned and Santana lifted her eyebrows in anticipation. It had already been a pretty draining day. She wasn't sure what else her wife had up her sleeve, but she did know that she would do it without question.
"Well, our next activity is something Mama and I used to do every evening when we were in high school," Brittany said, winking at the elder Latina.
"Oh, no," Santana groaned, but she smiled at the same time.
"Oh, yes," the blonde shot back. "You've been slacking, Mrs. Lopez. It's time we got that sexy booty back in shape."
Santana arched an eyebrow and pushed her ass out. "Is it really that big, Britt?"
"Uh…"
The brunette grinned at being the one to render her wife speechless as blue eyes took in every curve of her bodacious behind. Sure, she wasn't anywhere near the toned shape she'd been at their wedding and hell, their honeymoon had definitely been one hell of a seven-day workout.
"San, baby," Brittany said in a considerably lower voice, her eyes gripping Santana's dark ones and holding them fast, "don't for one second think that any part of you is not sexy because that's an impossibility." She cleared her throat as Santana's went bone dry.
"What are we doing?" Bella asked in confusion, looking between her moms.
"We're, uh, we're gonna go for a run," Santana eventually said, her eyes never leaving Brittany's.
"Really?"
Both Brittany and Santana turned to look at their daughter in confusion.
Why does she sound so excited? Running has never been a fun thing.
Bella jumped off the couch and held Santana's leg. "We're going running, Mama? Like you used to when you were a Cheerio with Mommy?"
Santana couldn't help but smile. Of course. Bella thought of it as another link to their past. "Yeah, baby girl. I guess that's Mommy's grand master plan."
Brittany laughed out loud. "Oh, honey, if you think that's the extent of my grand master plan, you have gravely underestimated me."
"Um…"
"Come on, Little B. Let's go get ourselves ready. I think Mama's gonna be a while."
"Did she lose her head in the clouds again?" Bella wondered as Brittany led her up the stairs to the bedrooms.
"Not my fault that she's an angel and sends me up there every now and then," Santana mumbled to herself, shaking her head and taking several deep breaths.
God, Brittany is so sexy. Everything she does is sexy. Even her helping me deal with all this shit is sexy.
Santana groaned inwardly. Waiting to be with her wife in the best way possible was going to be torture, especially since she knew Britt was going to make her work for it.
Ten minutes later, she walked out of Britt's old bedroom – their bedroom – and headed downstairs. She almost stumbled over the last two steps.
Holy crap.
Brittany was leaning against the wall opposite the door in short red running shorts and a sports bra. Bella was standing next to her, stretching and looking very serious. But Santana could hardly take her seriously with her adorably little pink headband and bright blue running shorts.
"Took you long enough," Brittany teased, taking a swig of water from a bottle. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were avoiding this run.
Santana scoffed. She'd never been afraid of a little workout. Admittedly, she knew she was out of shape and she also knew that Brittany was a drill sergeant when it came to working out. Her fitness in high school had been – hands down – due to Brittany.
And that included the extra-curricular workouts that we had.
Santana couldn't help but smirk at that memory.
"Head out of the gutter, San," Brittany quipped with a snap of her fingers.
The Latina shook her head back to the present. "Babe, while you are by far the sexiest woman alive, I don't really want to have to fend off every living person in Lima because you're dressed like that."
Brittany pushed herself off the wall and held up her hands. "What's wrong with how I'm dressed?" she asked with a knowing smirk.
Oh, Jesus. This woman is trying to kill me.
"Y-You…the sh-shorts and the bra…you need a top or something!"
The blonde shrugged. "No need to wear something extra when it's just gonna get all sweaty."
Fuck me.
"Ready, Little B?"
"Ready!" Bella said enthusiastically. "Let's do this!"
Brittany chuckled and arched an eyebrow at her wife, gesturing for her to lead them out. Santana sighed and walked past them, but Brittany grabbed her waist.
"Think of it as an incentive, San."
Santana turned and met teasing blue eyes. "Baby, you're all the motivation I need. I just don't need to be distracted by having to make sure everyone knows that you're mine."
Satisfied that her wife's eyes had turned a sufficiently darker shade of blue, she shot her a wink and slipped out of her grasp. She held out her hand for Bella to take, which their little girl did with a big grin.
They stepped outside into the early evening warmth and Santana breathed in deeply. She was actually looking forward to the run, especially if it was going to become a daily thing. Back in high school, they'd laughed and joked around as they'd run in the evenings. Santana had learned how to lower her walls during her runs with Britt, especially as they'd grown older and moved into romantic territory.
"So the main point of this exercise is that the healing process needs to be both emotional and physical," Brittany announced, pulling the front door closed behind her and slipping the keys into her pocket. "We're already working on the emotional stuff so we need to balance it out with the physical healing."
Santana nodded and smiled brightly at her wife.
"Mommy, my legs are short," Bella complained.
Brittany chuckled. "No worries, Little B. We're gonna start off real slow. Mama's a little out of practice, so you'll probably even beat her."
"Oh, nice," Santana retorted.
"It's okay, Mama," Bella interjected with an encouraging smile. "I won't go fast. You can hold my hand the whole time."
Santana's felt her heart melt again. Between Bella and Britt, she was surprised her insides weren't in a permanent state of mush.
"Baby girl, I would be honoured to run with you," she replied, squeezing Bella's hand.
Brittany kissed her cheek. "Here we go."
She started jogging slowly across the grass towards the sidewalk. Bella made sure she had a good grip on her mother's hand before following.
Brittany jerked awake, blinking her eyes rapidly in the dark room. She felt Santana stir slightly next to her and immediately encouraged her body to relax. She didn't want to wake Santana. It was painfully obvious that her wife had been exhausted after dinner.
When they returned from their run, Santana and Brittany took turns showering (showering together was a big no-no, as much as Brittany would have loved to see soap suds running down smooth caramel skin and-)
Focus.
She'd helped Bella bath while Santana had started on dinner. It had been ages since they'd had a good old fashioned Lopez lasagne. The recipe had been handed down from Santana's great-grandmother or something. However old it was, it was frigging delicious. Both her and Bella had had two helpings.
Santana had insisted on helping with the washing up and Brittany had let her, not planning on refusing voluntary participation in menial household tasks when, for so long, it had been just her and Bella.
Brittany lay back against her pillows and tried to control her breathing. Something that had been on her mind since that afternoon had manifested into a dream. She'd dreamt her version of Santana's counselling session and obviously, with everything that had happened, the negativity overtook and made Santana out to be the one who initiated the thoughts about Brittany and Bella leaving, about her being responsible for her father's death.
I cannot fucking believe that someone like her is allowed to even practise as a psychologist or whatever the fuck she is, Brittany fumed to herself. What she said was so unprofessional. What kind of person – never mind someone trained to help other people – tries to make people feel guilt that they never even had in the first place? Wasn't the whole point of what they did to make their clients or patients or whatever feel better?
Santana, as though she sensed Brittany's anger and distress, moved closer to her and rested her hand on top of the blonde's heart. Brittany immediately covered it with her own, anchoring it there.
She knew that whatever happened, she couldn't get angry. She wasn't angry with Santana. Well, not directly. She'd always thought that her favourite Latina – the person she knew better than she knew herself sometimes – was so much stronger than letting a virtual stranger change her entire perspective of what had happened.
You can't think like that. She was in a bad space and whatever that shrink lady said, had been enough for her to believe that she wasn't worthy. Or something…
Brittany sighed silently into the quietness of the bedroom that had for so long been a sanctuary for them. She smiled as she briefly remembered all of the wonderful memories that they'd created in that bedroom. Most notably, their two first times.
She also remembered comforting Santana when she'd get scared or angry or pissed off at different things. Back in junior and senior year, that had happened more often than Brittany cared to remember.
She glanced at her window and closed her eyes, a flash of a curled up Santana sobbing underneath, refusing to allow Brittany near her. It was after their Adele mash-up (which they'd so completely killed) and Santana had slapped Finn. She wasn't scared of being expelled. Oh, no. She was terrified of everyone finding out her secret. Brittany remembered the dazed look on her girlfriend's face when she'd walked into the auditorium just before their performance. She wasn't even dressed. Before Shelby had a chance to ask her what she was doing, Brittany had dragged her to the locker room and Santana had sobbed out the whole story.
Her first thought was anger – anger at Finn for stooping to Santana's unnecessarily childish and underhanded tactics. Anger at Sue for her carelessness. Anger at Mr. Schue for his patronising way of handling everything with a fucking smile. She'd been so angry, but hadn't let any of it show. Instead, she'd pulled Santana into her arms and whispered that she'd always be there for her, no matter what happened.
That night, Santana had been too scared to go home. Because Glee had happened well after school, Figgins was only told about the slap the following day. Santana was petrified that her parents would be able to siphon her secret out of her or something. Brittany had never been too clear. Regardless, she'd made sure that Santana knew that she was there. It had been by far the most uncomfortable sleep that she'd ever had with Santana, but they'd stayed on the floor by the window. She'd forced herself to stay awake until Santana had fallen asleep, curled up against her, before succumbing to slumber herself. During the course of the night, Santana had woken her up and they'd both stumbled to her bed. Santana often slept close to Brittany – not much had changed – but that night, she'd clung to Brittany, almost like she was afraid she was going to disappear.
Yeah, we've been through a lot together, and we've always come out stronger. No psycho shrink is going to ruin what I've been waiting my entire life for. My Santana is slowly coming back to me and soon, our merry little family will have a new addition.
Brittany smiled again, wider and moved her other hand – the one that wasn't covering Santana's over her heart – and settled it over her still flat stomach. She didn't expect to start showing until she was about three months along. The women in her family had all started showing pretty late into their pregnancy. She was looking forward to the moment when she'd be looking at her round stomach in the mirror and Santana would come up behind her and rest her hands on the baby bump. There would be the most radiant smile on her face as she whispered how much she loved their family.
The blonde sighed in happiness. She had no doubt that her wishful thoughts would become reality. She believed in Santana, and most of all, she believed in their love. They had overcome so much. They'd survived eight years apart, Santana having a daughter, Brittany's crazy ex and Lio's death. Even though they were still dealing with the repercussions of the last event, Brittany knew that her place was at her wife's side and nowhere else.
Shifting slightly, she turned so that she could face the woman she dreamt about every night. Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness and she hardly needed any light to know exactly how Santana looked when she slept.
Out of respect for her, Santana had climbed into the bed and stayed on her side. For Brittany, it felt like the Grand Canyon had been erected between them so she reached out and grabbed Santana's hand, linking their fingers and holding on tight. She'd heard Santana let out a sigh of relief, also thankful for the contact and whispered a good night before letting sleep pull her under.
Brittany didn't care for any boundaries. She was in bed with her wife. Yeah, they were taking things in that department slowly (worst idea ever – her wife was ridiculously hot and she hadn't done anything since they'd gone back to Lima before Lio had died), but things were getting back to normal between them, slowly but surely. Normal for them was cuddling, no matter what. Normal for them was also perpetual nakedness, but Brittany was pretty sure that would need to be put on hold until they'd worked up to being intimate again.
Not that she wasn't ready. God, she was so fucking ready. She wanted nothing more than to just flip Santana onto her back and have her wicked way with her, preferably multiple times.
Ugh, stop. You're only making it worse for yourself. You haven't broken your no masturbation rule yet so don't go and ruin that.
Brittany knew Santana would be really surprised that she had stayed true to their agreement. She was Brittany S. Lopez, after all. She had always (well, since the age of fourteen) been a very sexually curious and confident being. Santana had been the perfect partner in the sheets. She gave and took just as much as Brittany. Nobody had every pleased her the way Santana did and she missed that. Masturbation would seem inadequate and just leave her with wanting more anyway.
"I love you, Santana Lopez," she whispered to her wife, scooting forward and kissing her lips softly.
"Irrffmhg," Santana mumbled in that adorable Lopez sleepy talk that Brittany loved so much.
The blonde grinned. Screw boundaries. She turned around and shuffled back so that Santana's front was pressed against her back. Automatically, Santana's arm wrapped around her waist securely and she nuzzled the back of Brittany's neck.
Yes. This is what it's supposed to be like.
She could already feel her eyes drooping closed as the familiar warmth of her wife relaxed her into the best kind of comfortable slumber.
I'll talk to Quinn about that shrink tomorrow. But for now, this is the most wonderful feeling in the world and that's all that matters.
A/N: PLEASE understand that this is a fictional story and OBVIOUSLY what Santana's shrink did was completely unprofessional and will probably never happen in real life. Also, just because we've found out the root of what started Santana's depression, does not mean that she hasn't got an uphill battle ahead of her. Because she does. Anybody who's dealt with depression before knows that it's an ongoing thing. It actually doesn't go away most of the time… As always, I welcome feedback.
Still catching up on my own story alerts, so if I find a good one, I'll let y'all know on the next update :)
-H
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