Hey guys! Updates might take a bit longer than usual at the moment, I have a lot of school work to keep up with and I've just broken up with my girlfriend so I haven't really been in the mood to write. But next update should be before Monday. Again, thank you to everyone who reviews and answers my questions.
Perhaps Glee, you're amazing ;)
Another question: what sort of things would you like to see on Santana's bucket list?
Chapter 10
She didn't know why she was awake. She just remembered dreaming about a beach somewhere hot – it could have been Spain for all she knew – with Brittany lying next to her in a rather revealing bikini and then she was awake and lying in complete darkness, and very disappointed.
The silence was almost deafening.
The room was still dark and unfamiliar, it smelled different to her room and the bed sheets were thinner and scratchy. She shifted on her side to get comfortable but there was a heavy weight over her waist holding her still.
That's when it all came back to her; she was in Quinn's bed. It was Quinn's arm around her waist. She'd stayed the night instead of going home because she was giving Brittany her space.
She turned to face Quinn who lying like a star fish across the bed taking up more than half of the space. "How does Berry cope?" she tried to stifle the giggle that was threatening to break free.
Every time the blonde would let out a breath of air, the stray bits of hair that had fallen over her face would flutter with her breath. She'd almost think it was cute if it wasn't from the ridiculously loud snoring.
"Brittany doesn't snore." She thought with a soft sigh.
An aching pain began to build up in her gut as the memories of the previous day's events began to come back to her. She couldn't believe what she had seen when she'd walked into the dance studio with Quinn. She had never seen Brittany that angry before. Brittany had never been in a fight before and to see her punching her teacher in her face like that was scary.
Santana had heard what the blonde was shouting, and it pained her to think about it. "I can't be with the woman I love because she's dying!" the words echoed through her mind over and over again.
Suddenly, she was pulled away from her thoughts when a crash of thunder echoed through the sky outside causing her whole body to jolt into an upright position.
Her thoughts immediately went to Brittany. Had she heard it as well? Was she scared? She'd probably heard it; their apartment was only three blocks away.
That's what must have woken her up before. She was suddenly very aware of the rain clattering against the window. She looked over to the clock on the bedside table; it was only 01:36am.
If Brittany had heard the thunder she must be terrified, she'd never liked thunderstorms when they were younger, sometimes the blonde would be close to tears when she climbed into bed with Santana.
She still hated them now.
Screw it. She wasn't going to leave the blonde when she could be scared out of her mind, even if things between them were sort of fucked up.
She threw the bed sheets off her body and began to throw her clothes on top of the sleep shirt and sweats Quinn had let her borrow.
"Santana?" she spun round to see Quinn sitting up in her bed with a hazy expression on her face and her hair still covering part of her face. "What's wrong?" she sounded completely exhausted.
"Thunder storm." She mumbled as she pulled on her hoodie. "Brittany gets scared." She pulled her keys and phone into her pocket and walked over to the bedroom door. "Go back to sleep, everything's okay. Thank you for letting me stay tonight, Quinn."
"Any time. I'll come see you tomorrow." She lay back down and closed her eyes, snoring almost immediately.
And with that she was out of the door and running the three blocks there was between Quinn's and her apartment, rain pelting her skin and drenching her clothes.
Brittany's heart was racing.
Whenever that noise would echo through the sky she would jump nearly a foot off the bed with a scream. She'd curled up into a ball at the head of her bed with the bed sheets wrapped tightly around her body.
She was gripping one of Santana's tee shirts tightly to her chest and clinging to her phone debating whether or not it was a good idea to text the brunette or not.
She could still smell Santana's sent on the tee shirt in her hands, but it wasn't calming her down like it would if she was actually here. She had got up before and began to walk to Santana's room but then realised she wasn't there, and she probably wouldn't want to talk to her anyway if she was. So she'd climbed back into bed and wrapped herself up. She bit down onto her bottom lip to fight back the tears that were welling up in her eyes.
She knew it was stupid to be scared of thunder storms at her age, but she hadn't ever gotten used to them by herself, she'd always had Santana. The brunette would always find a way to get to the blonde's house even if the streets were flooding and hail that was falling the size of golf balls.
What would she do without Santana in her life?
She unlocked her phone and typed out a new text.
I need you
She didn't even have a chance to press send when she hear the front door burst open.
"Britt?" Santana shouted as she raced through the apartment and made her way up to Brittany's room. Her face was stinging with the icy rain and her clothes were dripping water onto the wood floor.
She tore off her hoodie along with her sweats, shoes and every other item of clothing but her underwear as she ran through the body of their home, careful to dodge her sofa and other various objects that were blocking her path.
"Are you okay, Britt?" she stammered out as the door to Brittany's room clicked open to reveal the blonde curled up into a mess of bed sheets and body parts.
Her wet hair clung to her face and her neck. She stepped further into the blonde's room but stopped at the end of the bed when Brittany didn't say anything.
"Sa- Santana?" she couldn't speak. Had Santana just ran all the way home? "I… What are you doing here?" she whispered in complete disbelief.
"You don't like thunder storms." She shrugged casually. Then something caught her eye. "Is that my tee shirt?" the corners of her lips were threatening to turn up into a smile but she fought to keep her face serious.
Brittany looked down at the tee shirt in her hands like she'd just noticed it for the first time. She pulled it closer to her chest and gave Santana an awkward look. "No…" even a death blind person wouldn't have believed her.
She began to slowly unwrap herself from her protective ball and straightened out her sheets on the bed.
"Are you okay, Britt?" Santana asked again.
"I'm fine…" she replied like she hadn't just been caught in a terrified mess. As if on cue, a crackle of thunder boomed through the sky. "FUCKING HELL!" she screamed, clutched the tee shirt closer to her body and buried herself under the sheets.
Santana scurried over to the other side of the bed and climbed in behind Brittany. She shuffled over so that the front of her body was pressed against the blonde's and wrapped her arm around her waist. "I'm here, you're okay." she cooed sweetly into her ear. With her free hand she raked her fingers through the blonde her until she felt the blonde relax in her arms.
She sighed and laced her fingers with Santana's revelling in the feeling of the brunette's half naked body-
Wait, what?
Her whole body tensed up.
Brittany could feel bare skin against her shoulder blades and thighs. Santana was half naked and in her bed? She clenched her thighs tightly together, trying to stop the steady throbbing that was starting to form in between her legs.
What the fuck was going on?
She could feel Santana's wet hair against her skin and the odd shiver that would emanate from her body, whether it was from the cold or just being this close to the blonde.
Santana traced her fingers down the blonde's ribs trying to sooth the girl but at the contact Brittany jolted away from her hand.
"What's wrong, Britt?" Santana leaned up on her elbow to look down at the blonde's face. Her eyes were screwed tightly shut and a small grimace was forming on her lips.
Santana slowly reached down and slid the blonde's top up so she could see the milky skin. Her eyes widened in horror when she saw a dark purple and red blotch that covered most of her rib cage. "Britt!"
"It doesn't hurt that bad, it looks worse than it really is." At Brittany's words, Santana reached down and softly placed the pad of her finger on the skin; Brittany immediately flinched and let out a groan.
"Don't lie to me, Britt-Britt." Santana whined softly. She rapidly blinked away the tears that were forming behind her lids.
"Okay, it hurts like a bitch. It took me an hour and a half to get out of the shower because it hurts every time I move. I couldn't put any ice on it because I can't bend over to get into the freezer and I've wanted to phone you to come home all night but I didn't think you wanted to see me." Brittany turned slowly onto her back so she could see Santana's face.
"Brittany," Santana sighed sadly, "I'll always want to see you. You're my best friend, I love you."
"Don't say that." Brittany muttered. It hurt her insides every time Santana would tell her she loved her. She didn't know if she meant it as a best friend or more than that but she hated it because she wanted to say it back so badly but she couldn't because they couldn't be more than friends.
Santana dropped her face into the crook of Brittany's neck, her warm breath caressing her skin. Brittany's sent began to swamp her senses and she struggled to find her voice amongst the haziness the blonde caused in her mind. "I'm sorry, Brittany." She fought the urge to kiss her neck and slowly pulled away.
Brittany whined at the loss of breath against her neck.
Suddenly, Santana was throwing the covers off her and walking towards the bedroom door. "I'll be right back." She whispered with a soft smile. Brittany nodded and shifted on her bed trying to get into a comfortable position but her ribs were begging to throb along with her eye.
She ran out into the kitchen, grabbed a bag of ice out of the freezer and placed it onto the kitchen counter. She then strode over to her bathroom, pulled out a first aid kit from the cupboard; she fiddled around in the box for a few moments until she found what she was looking for. "I hope it doesn't hurt too much…" she mumbled to herself.
She flung a towel lazily over her shoulder and walked back out into the kitchen, picked up the bag of ice and headed back to Brittany's room.
She couldn't hold back her laugh when she walked back into Brittany's room. The blonde was just too cute. She'd fallen asleep with her hair sprawled out across her face, her mouth was slightly parted like it always did when she was sleeping and her right leg was tucked up to her chest and was still holding Santana's old cheerios top.
Santana giggled and sat down Indian style on the bed next to Brittany's sleeping body. She neatly wrapped the bag of ice up in the towel and held it gently against the blonde's ribs.
Brittany flinched at the unknown sensation against her skin and her eye's flickered slowly flickered open. "San…" she whispered groggily to the Latina that was leaning over her.
"Shh, it's okay. I'm just going to clean up your cut on your eye, hold the ice still." She cooed softly and pulled out a packet of alcohol wipes. "Try not to move, okay? This might hurt."
Brittany just nodded a clenched her eyes shut. Santana brought the wipe up to meet this decent sized cut next to the blonde's left eye.
"Ow! Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." Brittany cursed as she pulled out of reach of the brunette, almost falling onto the floor.
"Shit. Britt, are you okay?"
"That hurt!" Brittany pouted as she moved closer to Santana with watery eyes.
"I'm sorry, Britt. Don't pout; you know what that does to me." Santana could feel her heart melting in her chest at the sight before her. She was fighting an internal battle with herself to stop from reaching out and kissing the pout off of her lips.
She shook her head to rid it of the thought and tapped her lap. "Lie down, I'll try not to make it hurt as much."
The blonde looked up warily, "You promise?"
Santana smiled and held out her pinkie for the blonde to take. "I promise."
She dabbed the wipe against the cut put pulled away quickly and began to blow soothingly on top of the cut. Brittany was grabbing the bag of ice and Santana's thigh so tight her knuckles had turned white.
She pulled out some butterfly stitches and covered the cut. She leaned down and pressed her lips against the now clean cut without even thinking about it, "All better?"
Brittany was frozen; the left side of her face had gone numb where the Latina had kissed and her mouth had turned dry. She nodded meekly and attempted to move out of Santana's lap but gave up when her ribs started to pound in pain. "I can't move…"
Santana smiled, "are you comfy?" Brittany nodded shyly. "Well so am I, so we can go to sleep like this." Santana leaned back against the pillows and began to rake her fingers through the long blonde hair.
Santana shivered as the cold air in the room – intensified by the back of ice -finally began to settle on her skin. "Can I have my tee shirt, Britt?"
Brittany's face turned red with embarrassment as she handed the clothing over to Santana. "I… I…" she tried to find the words to explain herself but found herself blushing even further.
Santana giggled shyly, "it's okay, Britt. I don't mind you stealing my clothes, just as long as you keep away from my underwear." She teased. Brittany slapped her thigh playfully causing Santana to wiggle out of reach, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." She chuckled.
"I don't steal your clothes." She pouted with a light pink blush climbing up her cheeks and reaching the tips of her ears. "I just got scared… and you… you make me feel safe, Santana." She couldn't make any eye contact with the Latina, scared in case she thought she was stupid or pathetic. She began to let her eyes wander the room but wouldn't let them look into the Latina's.
Suddenly, Santana's heart didn't feel so fucked up. She could feel it skip a beat but for all the right reasons. "Britt," she tried to get the blonde's attention but her eyes were focused on the bedside lamp. "Britt-Britt, look at me." Ocean blue eyes flickered up to meet dark chocolate brown, "I will always be here to keep you safe. I'll never let anything or anyone hurt you."
Brittany's heart welled at the thought and her face sported a huge grin that couldn't be wiped off even if a midget hit her in the face with a baseball bat, really, really hard.
Santana kept her eyes on the blonde and placed her hands on her cheeks. She leaned down and placed her lips on Brittany's. Brittany's eyes fluttered closed and stars erupted in front of her, her breath caught in her chest.
Because of the awkward position, Brittany was kissing Santana upside down but she didn't care, she felt completely amazing in that single moment.
To Brittany, the kiss was a promise that Santana would always be there for her and that she would never let anything hurt her. But to Santana, it meant that she would fight for her life with Brittany, she would fight against this stupid heart so she could live the rest of her life with the woman she loved.
She just couldn't promise that she would win.
They both knew that this kiss didn't mean that they were together. They both knew it wasn't that easy for the Latina to just push all her fears of hurting the blonde to the back of her mind and admit her undying love. She was still terrified about leaving her heart broken.
Santana reluctantly pulled away from the blonde's lips and stared longingly into her eyes. She wiped away the falling tears and smiled softly.
"A bucket list." Brittany blurted out softly, the memory of Quinn's note coming back to her.
Santana tipped her head to the side and gave a lopsided grin. "What are you talking about?" she giggled.
"You should write a bucket list. All the things you want to do before you-" she cut herself off and diverted her eye. She couldn't say it. She hadn't even been able to say it to herself yet – not including the time she was punching her teacher, that didn't count. She was beyond pissed and just word vomiting - never mind Santana. She blinked back the tears that were ready to fall. She wouldn't let herself cry in front of Santana.
"Britt, that's a great idea." Santana whispered before planting a soft kiss on the blonde's forehead. "Now how about we get some sleep it's really late. And you have school in like three hours." She wriggles carefully down the bed so she was spooning Brittany.
"I'll probably get expelled." She muttered to herself and closed her eyes.
"Don't think like that. If anyone asks, just tell them the truth. About how she tried to kiss you and then about me and what's going on at home." She pressed closer against the warm body in front of her. "Everything will be okay, Brittany." She linked her pinkie with Brittany's and watched as she slowly fell asleep.
Santana couldn't sleep however, and lay awake picturing the look on Brittany's face when she mentioned the list. She couldn't say the word "die"; she'd seen the look in the blonde's eyes. A flicker of what? What was it? Was she scared, angry, confused? She didn't know, so she buried her face deeper into blonde hair and inhaled her sweet sent for the second time that night.
"A bucket list?" wasn't that just as good as giving up? Wouldn't she have to admit to everyone she was dying?
There was still a chance she would get a new heart right? So what if she was low down on the transplant list, she could get moved up.
There could be some amazing miracle that this was all just a dream and she would wake up in that hospital bed with a bad case of dehydration and none of this would have happened.
Brittany wouldn't be lying in bed with an ice pack on her ribs and a good sized cut on her face, she wouldn't have risked getting kicked out of her dream school.
And Santana wouldn't have to be taking four pills a day to keep herself alive.
But was a bucket list really a good idea? Writing down all the things she wanted to do before she died would really hurt, especially if most of them were things she wanted to experience with the blonde. Every time she would accomplish something, she would have to think of the reason she was doing it. The fact that she was dying shouldn't be that reason.
She'd have to sleep on it.