Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, I do however own this story, I'm just borrowing the characters.
A/N: Ok so this chapter is leaning more towards Brittany's side of things. Anyway, over a thousand of you have read this ff so I just want to say a hearty thank you especially to crazyfornaya for your consistent reviewing. I would love to beat my 4 reviews for one chapter sooooo... all reviews welcome remember that! Enjoy and expect another update Sunday.
Mea Culpa : "Amor animi arbitrio sumitur, non ponitur"
"We choose to love, we do not choose to cease loving"
Brittany glanced nervously out into the crowd, watching as each student filed in unenthused about sitting through yet another dance performance. But she wasn't focussed too much on that, she was anxiously waiting to see Santana appear.
"Are you okay?" Mike's voice sounded out from behind her as she continued to stare from between the curtains.
"Yeah, I'm fine just looking for someone." She closed the curtains back up resigning herself to the fact that she wasn't going to show.
It had been two days since they last saw each other. Two days and it felt like years. At home Brittany's parents were cold; they barely spoke to her except to make sure that she hadn't seen Santana. She caught them at times giving her sideways glances and she could see it, written plainly and laid out bare – she knew they were disgusted with her. She knew they were disappointed and hurt that she could do this to them.
Then on the other hand she could see the hurt she was causing Santana, the way her eyes had glazed over as she said that she regretted the whole situation. Those words had cut so deeply into her. She didn't want to be this person anymore; she didn't want to keep hurting those that she loved. The drive home had been wordless, and she didn't know what to do anymore. She felt as if she had lost herself along the way down this narrow path that seemed to lead to nowhere. She couldn't see how this was going to play out. Each night after seeing Santana she would sit and stare out into the rising sun and hope that her parents would miraculously accept that this was the path that she had chosen. But she also knew that dreams rarely came true. There wasn't going to be some fairytale ending, there wasn't going to be a big musical number heralding in her future in the most dramatic way possible. She was helpless.
She wanted to be the perfect daughter and the perfect lover but right now those two parts of her were conflicting.
That night had ended with Brittany as confused as ever, the fact that Santana had apologised to her - it hurt; especially when she knew she was the one who had done wrong. But those moments when she had sex with Puck were so easy. She didn't have to think, she didn't have to worry about her parents or Santana or the future. Puck managed to make her forget the pressures and consequences of her choices and Marissa had simply been a moment where she explored; where she had actually done something to help find herself. Even so she just couldn't find a deeper connection with anyone but Santana.
Brittany knew if she spoke those words aloud to Santana that she wouldn't understand. If she were to tell her, it would all come out wrong and result in another fight. She couldn't remember the last time they had been happy.
Even when Santana had told her she loved her she had been crying. Brittany had been elated until she saw the tears slowly make their way down her cheeks and they hadn't been as a result of being overcome by emotion or joy. They had been tears of confusion, drops of water pushed from her eyes in a moment of vulnerability and inevitability.
Since this whole thing started from a simple kiss it had been misery and pain and a never ending reel of wrong decisions.
Brittany fisted the hem of her jumper, wanting to do something but having no outlet. She had forgotten that Mike was even there until she heard him clear his throat.
"Is it time to go on yet?" She asked, her voice a whisper.
"Two more minutes Britt, Figgins has to introduce us first." She turned to face him and could see the look of concern that he was giving her.
She nodded and continued to stare right through him. She wanted Santana to be here, because she would understand everything a little better after she had danced. She had chosen this song in particular to tell her everything that she couldn't with words. She felt Mike's cool fingertips brush her elbow lightly.
"It's time." He said disappearing out through the curtains. She took a deep breath and walked out into the spotlight.
The low thrum of the violin elicited the movement in her. It was as if the plucking of the strings were also plucking at her joints, causing a slow constant flowing of her limbs. She looked over briefly at Mike who seemed equally as lost in the music. She turned her attention back to the audience but she couldn't see properly, the light was so blinding. She closed her eyes and imagined Santana there, her gaze unwavering feeling everything that she was putting out there.
But she didn't feel that fire, that same familiar burn of being watched so closely by her.
"I wish my smile was your favourite kind of smile, I wish the way that I dress was your favourite kind of style."
She fisted her loose jumper and let the music wash over her. Every single word of this song was everything that she felt and she hoped that it would all be fixed after.
But a dance routine and a Kate Nash song couldn't help them sort this out, they had to try and do it themselves. But it was as if Santana had given up, Brittany had made mistakes but so had Santana. She felt her step falter; she could sense Mike picking up on it. She never faltered.
"I wish we could see if we could be something." The words spun out and the instruments had taken on a chaotic sound, causing Brittany to slow down to an eventual stop. She could hear the faint clapping of the audience still as lack lustre as ever.
Brittany stepped back from the stage lights behind the safety of the curtains. For the briefest moment she thought she felt intense eyes staring at her as she passed back out of view, but her mind had been tricking her. Santana hadn't been there.
Mike gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze and left her alone. He knew not to say anything.
She didn't want to think right now, so she located her bag and found her phone. She sent a text to Puck asking him to meet her after school. She hauled the bag over her shoulder and began making her way out of the door and down the steps.
"Britt that was amazing." She looked up to see Marissa standing there, her eyes wide and bright, a small smile playing on her lips.
"Thanks." She shrugged. "How have you been? Since – you know the last time I saw you." She didn't want to make a direct reference to the one time that they had hooked up. Brittany looked down at the floor quickly, finding her trainers suddenly very interesting. Marissa smiled a little more - she radiated ease and Brittany just wanted to be close to that.
"I've been fine; I wanted to know how you are though? That dance was intense – like it had a real purpose you know?" Her voice was light and airy, as if she was searching for something.
"I'm ok, just trying to balance some stuff out." At that Marissa raised an eyebrow.
"Santana?" Brittany's head shot up.
"Maybe." She muttered out, Marissa's smile fell a little.
"She wasn't here you know." Brittany nodded.
"I know. I just wish she was." Marissa looked thoughtful, and then her smile returned full force.
"Follow me?" It was more of a question than a command. "I think I can give you what you want."
Brittany looked at her in bewilderment, unsure of where this was going to go. But then, when did she ever know where things would lead.
"Ok." Before the word was barely out of her mouth, she felt herself being pulled along and out into the field. She was being rushed across the grass, being drawn closer and closer to the bleachers. Her heart beat began to quicken and she could feel the blood course through her veins. She saw the unmistakable silhouette of the Latina become defined, no longer a shadow but becoming more detailed until she realised she was standing right in front of her.
Santana froze, her cigarette paused en route to her mouth.
"Santana, Brittany has some things she needs to say to you." Marissa pushed her towards the Latina, not noticing the cold glare that the cheerleader was giving her.
"Take her back." Santana hissed the words at Marissa. That little bit of doubt that Brittany had cascaded into full blown terror and hurt.
She stopped listening, and was only slightly aware of the argument taking place between the two girls. Santana had closed off indefinitely, Brittany could do nothing now. It was too late.
She ran as fast as she could, the tears blurring her vision as she pushed as far away as she could. She ran straight into the choir room, not stopping as curious eyes followed her.
She sat alone in the barely lit room, her knees drawn to her chest and the reassurance of the silence. This wasn't her Santana anymore.
She thought back over the times they had shared, constantly tied to each other in one way or another be it friendship or lovers. They were bound together, both of them unwilling to break the habit and yet, both of them searching for a way out.
Brittany wondered if she did find someone else, that if she loved them even half as much as she did Santana would she give up? With the way things were right now, she couldn't be sure that the answer would be no. Santana may be her first love, but there was nothing set in concrete that there wouldn't be others.
Who said that their first love would be the only love for the rest of their life?
Brittany hadn't known love before Santana, but if this was the way that it was supposed to go she never wanted to feel it again.
Why did it have to be her? Why couldn't Santana love her back truly? Not the wrought words that Santana had finally delivered as if being forced to. Brittany felt like she had pushed her into saying it in a way, the way she looked at her at times just hoping. Brittany hadn't said the words back either; she had sat there in awe and then distress at seeing the Latina so upset.
It was like a broken record these thoughts, constantly playing the same things over again, barraged with a lot of what if's and maybe's.
But she knew she had to wait for her. She had promised her that much and that is what she would give her. She felt like she was constantly waiting though. Waiting for her parents to accept her, waiting for Santana to accept who she is; Brittany was even waiting to decide who she was herself. So much waiting, but such a short time left.
So much waiting and no end in sight.
She felt another presence in the room, she refocused her eyes and recognised Marissa, stepping tentatively towards her, worried that she might frighten her.
"Brittany? I've been looking for you everywhere." She sat heavily into the chair next to Brittany, a sigh escaping her lips. When she realised that she wasn't going to get any kind of response she continued.
"Santana is waiting for you. She wants to talk." Brittany raised her eyebrows, her blue eyes becoming noticeably darker.
"Well you can tell her that if she wants to talk she will have to come to me. I'm not running after her anymore." Brittany steeled herself for a harsh response but instead was filled with dread.
"I'm already here to talk to you Britt." Brittany stared back at the doorway, finding the familiar Cheerio's uniform, crisp and bright and the unforgettable brooding stare of the Latina.
Marissa gave her a weak smile and a shrug of the shoulders. "Just go with it." She whispered, giving Santana a curt nod as she left.
She walked into the room cautiously, looking all around her at the posters to do with show choir and photos taken from team meetings and gatherings.
Brittany watched her closely, seeing the almost imperceptible change in her demeanour. She tensed slightly, as if she was afraid of even being seen in such an environment.
"Miss Sylvester said she wants you in practice tomorrow." Santana was at a loss as to how to start the conversation.
"I quit. It was meaningless anyway the deal was that you would join New Directions and come to the meetings. Which you didn't. Which means I don't have to dance around showing off my spanks."
"It's not so bad." Santana didn't know what else to say, so she was saying whatever happened to come to her mind.
"So why do you want to talk all of a sudden? What did Marissa say to you?" Santana snorted at the name.
"She told me that you two didn't go as far as I thought you did and that for us to get back to the way we were we needed to start talking. So you go first because I don't know what to say." Santana bit back the venom in her voice as she saw Brittany swipe at her teary eyes with the back of her hand.
"San..." The Latina looked at the blonde unwaveringly. "San, I want to be with you. But only when I have figured myself out and when you have figured yourself out. We need to be certain."
Santana had already begun shaking her head. Brittany thought what she had proposed was sensible, so she couldn't figure out Santana's angle.
"Britt, you need to show me that I can trust you. I can't take the idea of you being with Puck or someone like that again, I just need you to prove it to me." Brittany felt infuriated. Santana had already begun to dictate and demand with no regard for how she was feeling or what she wanted.
"No" It was barely audible but Santana heard it loud and clear.
"Why not? You were the one who hurt me, so it's only fair." Brittany gritted her teeth.
"Think about it San. Only come back to me when you have figured it out."
"Fine!" The Latina shouted. "I don't need this. I don't need you!" She left quickly, destroying anything and anyone in her path.
Brittany watched her retreating form; wishing that she would figure it out quickly and save them both from heart ache.
"So, I still don't get it Britt. Why didn't you come with me? Why did you abandon us? I know we got mad sometimes but it was never enough for us to actually part ways."
Brittany stared at her – hard, trying to decipher what was different about this Santana. Then she realised what it was. Her eyes were clear, carrying a wealth of acceptance and clarity as opposed to the confusion she harboured in their senior year.
"It wasn't just the confusion of our relationship San. It was something else. I'm sorry San, I'm so so sorry."
In the distance a crack of thunder pounded into the sky the lightening followed shortly after. The brilliant flash of white light illuminated everything in the room. For a moment it looked like heaven, except here is the place where fallen angels rest.