Disclaimer: Glee isn't mine. Never has been. Never will be.

Chapter 4

Santana quickly slid her shoes on and went to stand up, hoping to make a hasty exit from the hospital and the smirk on the nurses face. She had barely made it to her feet when she suddenly got dizzy, having to grab onto Brittany's shoulder to keep from toppling over.

"Sorry Brittany... guess the wheelchair isn't such a bad idea after all." The proximity to the blonde seemed to make Santana's head spin. She was still dizzy, the effects of the concussion no doubt. But her head seemed to be spining in more ways than one. Was Brittany really going to kiss her just now, or was that in her head? Did she want her to kiss her? Santana wasn't sure what she was supposed to be feeling right now. She decided not to dwell on it for the moment. She did know that she was ready to get out of that hospital room. Maybe being back at home, in something that should be a familar setting would help make things make more sense. She released her grip on Brittany's shoulder and shuffled over to sit down in the wheelchair that the nurse had positioned by the door. She took a deep breath and looked over at Brittany who was throwing the travel bag over her shoulder and taking one last look around the room as if to make sure they weren't forgetting anything. Well anything besides every moment of Santana's life before 24 hours ago she thought slightly bitterly. Brittany walked over and grabbed the handles of the wheelchair, aiming it for the bank of elevators that would take them to street level where they could catch a cab.

It only took a few minutes for a cab to pick them up from in front of the hospital. Santana had stubbornly refused help from either the cab driver or Brittany as she slid into the back seat of the taxi. The ride to the apartment was spent in silence other than the noise of traffic and the engine of the cab. Santana had her eyes fixed out the window, taking in as much of the view of the city speeding past them as possible, for fear that she might not see them ever again. She was broken out of her fascination with the sights by the sound of Brittany's voice, soft and slowly becoming familiar.

"We're here Santana." Santana glanced up at the building, a three story brownstone set into a row of nearly identical buildings. She swallowed once before nodding her head and grabbing the handle of the taxi's door and stepping out onto the sidewalk. She was immediately struck by the noise on the street. Traffic, raised voices, children playing the life of New York. A few seconds passed before she felt Brittany's hand on her elbow. "It's ok. Lets get inside and get settled, k?" Brittany's voice was comforting, and so Santana nodded again and allowed Brittany to step forward as she fell into step behind her. Britt slipped her keys into the lock and opened the front door of the building, letting them both into a small lobby area with a small row of mail boxes on the far wall. "Third floor." Brittany said, sounding slightly like a your guide. Santana followed up the stairs and onto a landing, where Brittany again slid her keys into a lock. Brass numbers adorned the simple white door, #32. None of it meant anything to Santana. As she heard the tumbler turn in the door handle she took a deep breath and sighed louder than she had meant to. Brittany turned to see Santana shake off a visible full body shudder. Brittany laid a hand on the smaller girls shoulder, squeezing gently, hoping to offer some reassurance.

"Are you okay San? We don't like keep anything scary in there. Unless you count Lord Tubbington, he can be a bit scary sometimes." Santana glanced from the door to Brittany with a questioning look on her face, wondering what exactly a Lord Tubbington was.

"Its just... I don't know... This is my home. Our home I guess. Our whole life. And I can't remember any of this..." Santana's voice trailed off she looked from Brittany to the door, lost in thought. Brittany gave the latina's shoulder another soft squeeze, trying to comfort her. Britt wasn't used to Santana being afraid of anything. She was always the strong one, the one who would hold Britt in the night when she was afraid. She just hoped that her touch was a comfort to her wife.

"If you want, we could maybe rent you a hotel room or something, if you think you think that would be more comfortable."

"No Brittany. I'm okay. If I am gonna be someplace I don't recognize it might as well be here. And I want to be where ever you are." Santana smiled weakly, trying to reign in her emotions.

"K. Well then, welcome home I guess." Brittany turned the knob and opened the door to the apartment. Santana followed closely behind Britt into a small entry hallway. She almost walked into the back of the tall blonde as she stopped to slip her shoes off just inside the door.

"Oh, sorry. Do I need to take my shoes off too?"

Brittany shrugged. "Well it's your rule, I don't really care."

Santana laughed for what felt like the first time in ages as she slipped her converse off to sit next to various other shoes piled under a small coat rack. "Guess I shouldn't start out breaking my own rules now should I?" Brittany smiled softly and gave another shrug of her shoulders as she walked a few feet down the hall and into an open doorway on the left. Brittany was clearly falling into her normal getting home routine as she moved almost on auto pilot around the room. She dropped her keys on the kitchen table with a clatter and opened the fridge, grabbing two bottles of water, handing one to Santana. Brittany wandered back out into the hallway and she could hear socked feet padding away, probably dropping the travel bag in the bedroom she thought.

Santana took a look around for the first time at the small kitchen she was standing in. She could tell from the array of spices and mountain of cookware piled about that one of them must do alot of cooking. She wondered for a few seconds if she could cook. What her favorite foods were. Did they cook together? After a few seconds her eyes settled on the fridge at the far side of the small room. She walked over to examine the photos that were stuck all over, held up with magnets from various fast food joints. She recognized in several photos Brittany, Quinn and Rachel. In most of those pictures she also saw a young woman with dark hair, deep brown eyes and mocha skin. That must be me she thought. Some how in the hours that she had been awake she had managed not to get a glimpse of herself, or if she had she hadn't realized it was her. She reached out and touched a strip of four photos stacked vertically that were of her and Brittany. The top one showed the girls smiling at the camera, the second they both had their tongues out, the third had Santana grinning at Brittany who was laughing. And in the fourth and final picture the two were engaged in a kiss. She almost felt guilty looking at it, as though she was looking at a private moment between two people she hardly knew.

"We look so happy..." she said quietly to herself.

"We are, or were. That was just a couple of weeks ago. You took me to central park zoo for my birthday." Santana managed to contain a gasp at the words that were spoken close to her ear. Somehow Brittany had managed to slip back into the kitchen and was now standing with her hands lightly on Santana's hips, body close behind her. Santana struggled to keep her breathing in check as she she said, "Your 23rd birthday right?" She hoped that her voice sounded more contained to Brittany than it did in her own ears.

"Yep, and yours was just a week before." Santana's mind raced to find a way out of the current situation.

"Um, Brittany? Do you think I can take a shower? I have been lying in a hospital bed for like a week, I must be kind of gross by now." Brittany stepped back and Santana felt as though she could breath again.

"Sure Santana, I will grab you a towel and a change of clothes, something comfy. And you don't have to keep asking for permission for stuff around here. You live here too remember. In fact you pay most of the rent." Britt's voice trailed off as headed back out of the kitchen, and Santana heard a cupboard open down the hall way. She raised her voice to make sure she could be heard.

"I know. It's just, you know, I just figured I don't really know where anything is yet..." Smooth Santana, really smooth she thought as she leaned her back against the stove.

"So shower is in the bedroom. Well the bathroom is in the bedroom, the door at the end of the hall. I started the water so that it has a chance for the water to get hot like you like it. I think I will give Q a call while you are in there and see if they are still gonna come over in abit, they wanted to stop off before Rachel has to be a rehearsal."

"Sounds good. Thanks." Santana offered a broad smile at the blonde, truly thankful for everything she had done in the last 24 hours. She walked out of the kitchen and turned to head down the hallway to the bedroom, where she could hear water running.

"Oh, San?" Santana turned on her heel as Brittany leaned out the doorway. "Do you need any help getting undressed? I can help you with your tanktop if you need me too."

Santana felt her face flush and quickly turned back towards the bedroom so that Brittany couldn't see the color flooding her cheeks. "No thanks Brittany, I think I can manage. If I need any help I will come back out and ask."

She was already in the bedroom as she finished the sentence. Santana glanced around the darkened bedroom for a few seconds before she headed into th brightly lit bathroom, pushing the door closed behind her. She leaned against the door for a few moments before catching her reflection in the mirror. She stepped forward, pressing her hips against the sink, trying to take in her own image. Long dark hair pulled into a loose pony tail, chocolate eyes, rich sun kissed skin. Even with the dark bruise on her temple from the fall she was striking. 'Damn Santana, not bad, not bad at all' she thought, chuckling at herself. She noticed that the mirror was starting to fog over from he steam and so she quickly used her right hand to grab the hem of her white tanktop and pulling it off, revealing nasty dark bruises under her left breast. She gingerly touched the bruises and the broken ribs underneath, wincing in pain at the feeling.

She then grabbed the top of her sweatpants and slid them down to reveal a pair of simple black panties and a small surprise, a tattoo. She stifled a laugh at the small almost delicate line of ink on her pelvic bone. In thin black cursive was one word. Brittany. 'Well I guess I must really belong to her' she thought. She slid the panties to the floor, kicking them towards her sweat pants an stepped into the hot water of the shower. She stepped under the stream of water and groaned at the feeling of the hot water cascading down her body. She reached up with her right hand and pulled the hair tie out of her thick hair, allowing it to all loose around her as she turned with her back to the shower head. As the water poured down her body she allowed her gaze to drift down to the fine ink on her hip. She let her fingers slowly trace over the letters, a small smile playing on her lips. She finally broke away from the tattoo and grabbed a bottle of shampoo. She washed through her hair, not an easy task with essentially one arm and when she was finished turned off the water.

She grabbed a towel and dried her body, wrapping it around her chest and then grabbed the second towel laid out for her and began to dry her hair. After getting her hair moderately dry she dropped both towels and slid on a pair of soft blue cotton panties and a pair of columbia university sweat pants that Brittany had laid out for her. She looked skeptically at the black tanktop still laying on the counter. After several attempts, and a rather impressive string of expletives mostly in spanish she managed to work her way into the shirt. She decided to let Brittany help her with her hair, rather than wrestle with it herself. She opened the bathroom door and stepped into the bedroom in a cloud of escaping steam. Her eyes took a few seconds to adjust to the low lights in he room, and sweeping the room her eyes fell on Brittany laying across the bed, obviously sound asleep.

Santana smiled at the sight of the girl laying on the bed and decided to take a few moments to look aroud the bedroom. Her bedroom. Well hers and Brittany's. She walked to the closest nightstand, realizing immediately that this must be her normal side of the bed. On the small nightstand were only a few items. A book, a black leather wallet and she noticed with a small gasp a gun in a holster. Her gun. She knew that she was a cop, that was why she had gotten shot and fallen down that damned fire escape. But until now, seeing the gun, she hadn't really thought about it. She lightly touched the grip of the gun before shuddering slightly and moving on to the wallet. She picked it up and flipped it open revealing her police shield. A large piece of shining silver metal, embossed with lettering that read NYPD and had a series of numbers, she guessed they must be her badge number. She wasn't sure why but holding the shield filled her with a distinct sense of pride. She finally glanced at the book, Philip K Dick's Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? She picked it up and read the back cover, some science fiction thing. 'Who would guess that I am also a nerd' she thought with a laugh. She heard a small sniffle come from the bed, and then heard Brittany shift on the bed.

"Hey, sorry San... must have fallen asleep. Haven't slept much for a few days." Brittany yawned and sat up slowly, not quite awake yet.

"No worries, I think I got enough sleep the last week for both of us. Ummm, do you think you can give me a hand with my hair? I couldn't figure out how to get it back up with one hand." As she said it she glanced down at her ribs and pointed to her arm for emphasis.

"Sure San. I always love brushing your hair, just sit down in front of the vanity." Santana did as she was instructed and crossed the room, settling lightly on the chair in front of the mirror. Brittany followed and picked up a small silver backed brush from the table top and started to carefully running it through Santana's long dark hair. Santana glanced in the mirror, watching the beautiful blonde gently attending to her hair. After a few minutes Brittany changed her focus, glancing up to look for a hair tie, catching Santana's eyes in the mirror causing both girls to smile shyly. Britt returned her attention to the table top, grabbing a black rubberband and pulling Santanas hair into a ponytail.

"All done." Brittany stepped to the side, allowing Santana to take in her reflection in full. Santana swiveled in her seat so that she was facing the blonde.

"Thanks Britt." She saw Brittany's blue eyes light up at the shortening of her name. "Oh, you could have warned me about the tattoo by the way." Santana saw a blush quickly creep over Brittany's fair skin.

"Oh... I guess I forgot." She reached down and took Santana's right hand, placing it on her own hip bone. "I have a matching one, with your name." Santana was suddenly very aware of her close proximity to Brittany, and the feeling of her fingers touching Brittany's hip. She looked down at their hands and then up into Brittany's crystal blue eyes. She swallowed thickly and was aware of her heart suddenly pounding in her ears. Seconds seemed to melt into minutes. Brittany began to lean down and forward, lips parted slightly. 'She's going to kiss me' Santana dully thought. Santana felt a flash of panic at the realization but then her body seemed to go on auto pilot, her eyes closing as Brittany closed the last few inches. Their lips had barely touched when both girls froze at a sound from the hallway. Santana's eyes flw open as Brittany pulled her lips away. Somebody had just closed the front door. Brittany quickly stepped back, pulling Santana's hand free of her hip as she turned towards the doorway.

"Hey Quinn, Rachel, we will be right there." Brittany said loudly. She them turned back to a blushing and very confused latina and said quiet enough for only Santana to hear. "I gave them the spare key while you were in the hospital. Guess I forgot that too."

With that Brittany left a very flustered Santana sitting in front of the vanity, wondering what the hell just happened.