Mama sat down next to Ily on the bed and hugged her close. "How did it go with Mami, love bug?" she asked. Iliana hummed noncommittally and snuggled into her mama's side. Brittany continued anyway. "You scared us really bad, you know. Not knowing where you were, that was an awful feeling. The worst. You can't do that ever again, Ils."

"'kay," Ily murmured, still concentrating on breathing in her mama's scent and only half listening. Brittany placed a finger under Iliana's chin and tilted her face up until their eyes met.

"Nope, you gotta do better than that, friend. You can't run away again, ever. Ever ever. Even if you think you're doing it for a good reason, or if you get super mad at me or at Mami, or if you decide you want to join the circus. You can't ever run away again."

"I won't."

"I need a pinky swear." Brittany extended her pinky finger and Iliana stared at it seriously for a few moments. This was a binding contract.

"What if the circus lets me be one of those trapeze people? That looks like fun."

"Iliana Marie."

"I'm just saying."

"You're not saying what I need you to say."

Ily smirked, and it struck Brittany how much she looked like Santana. Her heart gave a pang. "You're not saying what I need you to say, either," Ily returned.

Brittany sighed. "Okay. I hear you. Let's start there. What is it that you need me to say, baby?"

"I thought that was obvious."

"Ooh, big word, little girl." Brittany smiled and kissed her daughter on the forehead. "But even if you think it's obvious, sometimes grown-ups have a hard time understanding the special way that kids think. So I might not know what you need from me, and I would hate to think I'm not saying something you need to hear. Tell me, please."

"I don't want you to get sad, though."

"Well, I can't promise I won't get sad, but I promise I will be honest with you. And I won't be mad or upset with you for saying it. Is that good enough?"

Iliana took a deep breath and stared at her hands. "I need you to say … I need to know … When can we be a family again? When are you coming home? Don't you still love us?" The words tumbled out one on top of another and Brittany had to replay it in her head before she could make it out. And when she did, her heart gave another, sharper pang.

She must have let it show on her face, because Ily's big brown eyes filled with worry. "See? I made you sad. I'm sorry, Mama."

"No, baby, no, it's okay that you asked. You hear me? It's okay! That's something I really didn't do a good job of, and it's my fault you don't understand and I'm so sorry. I should have made sure you understood." She took a breath and muttered to herself, "God, that was stupid."

"That's a bad word, Mama!" Iliana scolded. "That's way worse than crap."

Brittany nodded. "Yes, you're right, we don't say that word."

There was some silence then as Brittany tried to think of how to explain to the child she'd broken why she'd had to leave. She also used the time to rein in her emotions so that she didn't fully burst into tears when she began to speak. Finally, she sat cross-legged on the bed and pulled Ily up to face her, clutching both of the child's small hands in both of her own.

"I need you to look at me, Iliana. Good, that's good. Now, I need you to look me right in the eyes as I say this because I want to make sure it sticks, and I can only tell if it sticks if I see it in your eyes, okay?"

Used to her mama's unique way of explaining things, Iliana simply nodded, holding the eye contact Brittany had initiated.

"You and your mami mean everything to me. Everything. There has never been a millisecond—a nanosecond—of my life that I haven't loved you with every cell in my body. And your mami? Baby, she is the only person I have ever loved with the grown-up kind of love, the kind of love that makes me feel full inside and complete and able to do all those things I want to do but people always told me were impossible. Your mami makes me feel like I could fly, if I wanted to. Like I could just take off and I'd be flying with just the power of my love for her and hers for me. Do you get how special that is? How big?" She waited for Ily's wide-eyed nod before continuing. "Being apart from you both has been like having two pieces of my heart ripped out, and I know that's gross, but that's how I feel. And I know it's been just as hard for you, and just as hard for Mami, but I can't risk coming home if I think it could happen again. Because I know I'm not strong enough for that, and I think you're finally healing and I won't put you through it again, not until—" She broke off, biting at her lip, as if it suddenly struck her that there were things too fragile just yet to reveal to a brokenhearted eight-year-old. Even if it would give her hope. Because sometimes it's the actual hope that ends up crushing you.

Ily only realized she was crying when a tear fell on their clasped hands. But that was okay; Mama was crying, too.

"But I'm not healing, Mama, I'm not. Mami's not either; she cries and she drinks a lot of wine and she tells Aunt Rachel how bad it is. She's angry all the time and I know. I know that means she's not all angry but mostly sad. She needs you, Mama. We need you. Please come home."

Brittany extracted her right hand long enough to wipe tears from Iliana's cheeks even as more continued to fall.

"I didn't want to leave," she said. "I never wanted to leave, but we needed to stop hurting you."

"This is worse, though. Can't you see this is so much worse?"

A quiet sob escaped Brittany's lips and she tried to reach for her daughter, but Iliana wasn't having it. She pulled away forcefully, standing up from the bed and backing toward the doorway. "You aren't coming home, that's what you're saying," she cried, her voice coming out hoarse and tearful. "You know how much we're hurting and you're hurting too and you'd rather us be all broken like this than come home! No, don't touch me!" She was shouting now, screaming at the top of her lungs and thinking only of lashing out at the person who was causing her this pain.

Brittany was crying openly now, too, and when Iliana yanked her arm free of her mama's grasp and ran out of the bedroom door, she just stood with her face in her hands and wondered how something so beautiful as their family could have come to this ugly mess.

Iliana flew blindly down the stairs two at a time, running at a breakneck pace and heading for the front door. She didn't make it there, though. Two strong arms wrapped around her middle and the force of her forward momentum took her breath away. Then she was swept up into Mami's embrace. She immediately buried her face in her shoulder and sobbed for all she was worth.

"I hate her, I hate her, I hate her," she chanted over and over, the words muffled but audible against the shoulder of Santana's rapidly dampening sweater.

"Shhh, baby. Mami's got you. Hush now. You're okay. We're okay. We're going to be okay."

She held her daughter and murmured those pretty lies as Brittany stood frozen in the middle of the stairwell watching them and aching to the tips of her toes.


Yeah, they've still got some work to do. If you like, please review. I'll owe ya one.