Hey! I just realised I never do a disclaimer so just so ya'll know, I don't own Glee or the characters! But I do own the rest Thank you all again for all your lovely reviews it means so much. This story will only have eight chapters because I feel like that's a significant number in this story. Also, I know this chapter gets a little heavy and I don't want this story to be all sad and gloomy so I've tried adding a few memories here and there that hopefully not only make Brittany smile but also you readers out there Enjoy!

Quinn's soft knock echoed throughout the apartment. I softly padded towards the front door, my stomach tying knots and performing flips as I twisted the handle and opened the door to a very... dishevelled looking Quinn Fabray.

"Sweetie, are you okay?" I asked, concern overtaking my previous worry.

"Brittany," Quinn breathed, before breaking down into a sob and falling into my arms.

"What's happened?" I asked, holding her close. I hadn't seen this girl for nearly eight years. Why now?

"I'm a fucking Lima Loser, Britt, that's what's happened." She sobbed, jabbing her angry fists into my shoulder blades.

I didn't tell her it hurt.

"Come into the living room with me." I said, pulling her towards the sofa. "I'll make you a drink. What would you like?"

Quinn gingerly sat down, resting her face in her hands. She looked like I'd just asked her how many yellow cabs there were driving round the city right now. Her face crumpled and she burst into more tears. "I don't know,"

I raised my eyebrows, momentarily astounded at the blonde's behaviour. "Coffee, maybe?" I offered.

"How about a fucking huge-ass bowl of vodka?" She joked. Well. I thought she was joking.

"Really?" I asked, hovering on the spot. "I'll just get you a latte."

When I returned, Quinn's sobs had sort of subsided and she was sat on the edge of the sofa, the picture of Santana, the kids and I with her at the airport before she left, in her hands.

"I can just imagine Santana in the army." She said, glancing up at me as I placed her latte on the table beside her. I sat down next to her.

"She's a good soldier." I agreed, my smile tight and rigid.

"How long has she been away?" Quinn asked.

I braced myself, breathing in deeply and closing my eyes. I did not want to cry in front of Quinn. "7 months."

Quinn gasped, bringing her fingers up to her mouth. "How much longer?"

"A month."

"Oh, Britt." She said, touching my knee. "I'm so sorry."

I frowned at her. "At least I still have her."

That seemed to hit a nerve and Quinn turned away, shielding her eyes from me.

"Why are you here?" I asked softly.

"Why not?"

"Quinn..."

She sighed. "I live here now, I just wanted to come and see you."

I cocked my head to the right, and bit my lip. "But you were crying."

Quinn looked exasperated. "I just don't like it, okay, Brittany?"

I brought my head back. Quinn still possessed some of that Cheerio bitchiness she'd had in high school. I maintained eye contact with her. That was so not the reason.

"What happened with Puck, Q?" I tried again.

She inhaled deeply, pulling in her bottom lip with her teeth. "He left me."

I frowned. "Then why did you move?"

"Because I couldn't stand to be in the same state as him." Her voice trembled with anger. "And he changed... he became this man I didn't even..." She trailed off and I placed my hand on top of hers.

"What's happened with Kelly?"

Kelly was Quinn and Puck's eighteen year old daughter. The last time Santana and I saw her, she had been ten and all we had said on the way home was how loud the kid was. It was like she was on a constant high, screaming at this, shouting at that, going crazy over anything and everything. We'd always joke that the kid had no understanding of volume and that maybe she'd never heard the sound of silence. Quinn and Puck used to call her 'Spark' because they reminded her of a firework.

"She's with me." Quinn replied, looking down at the floor. "That's the worst part of it all. Puck and Kelly were so inseparable and when he left, he told her he wanted nothing to do with the family any more. She's taken it so badly."

At that moment, I realised it was harder for Kelly knowing that even though her Father was still out there, he didn't want her and he didn't need her. My heart ached for the kid.

"Where is she now?" I questioned.

"Asleep. Like always."

I nearly snorted, it sounded so familiar. Is that was kids do these days when they're sad? When they can't handle what's going on around them? They sleep?

"Yeah," I breathed, nodding my head.

Quinn knitted her eyebrows together at me.

"Renata," I explained, smiling gently. "She sleeps all the time too."

Quinn shook her head a little and closed her eyes. "What's wrong with us, Britt?"

"There's nothing wrong with us, Q." I defended my own parenting. "I know that you feel so guilty because she's your kid, I get it. But sometimes we have to pretend like we don't have control over the situation, just to take some of the weight off our shoulders for a while. Just to remove some of the guilt because we do everything we can. Well, I know that I do."

"But she hates me." The blonde looked so broken; I had to hug her again.

"No she doesn't."

"Britt, you don't even know her." Quinn argued. "She can't even stand the sight of me. She won't get out of her bed because she knows she'll have to see me. I can't even breathe one word to her without the girl yelling at me that I'm a terrible mother and that I should go to hell. She just doesn't want me in her life. She wants her Dad."

"Quinn," I reasoned, holding her shoulders and looking at her. "She's not mad at you. Maybe she's bringing it out on you and telling you that she is but really she's angry at Puck. She's angry at him for abandoning her and leaving her with just one parent."

Thank god my kids have not done that to me.

"You know that Rachel Berry lives here too." Quinn smirked. "Berry actually made it."

I frowned at the change of subject. "Yeah, I'm working with her at the moment."

"Really? What do you do?"

"I'm a choreographer."

"Really? Oh, Britt, that's great."

"Yeah, it is." I said. "What do you do?"

Her face crumpled again. "I walk fucking dogs."

I rolled my eyes at her. "Quinn, I love dogs, that's an awesome job. I can come help you sometime? We could talk and stuff? Give you some time to escape your demon kid."

She laughed at that. So did I.

"You know my daughter went out and got her fucking nose pierced?" She laughed, shaking her head. "Just like me..."

I giggled. "Joan Jett Quinn."

"Hey, I thought I looked awesome."

"Well, maybe Kelly does too."

Quinn looked like she was thinking. "She went to Africa for 6 weeks before Puck left us." Her eyes glazed over and she glanced down. "Came home with two tattoos. One of Africa, in her fucking ear of all places." She giggled before her face turned serious again. "And she'd had Puck's initials printed behind her ear, too. When she got home and realised her Dad had gone, I found her later that evening, standing in front of her mirror, nail clippers in hand, trying to scratch the whole thing off. It was so fucking red and it was bleeding everywhere. I had to physically hold her hands back from doing it again and it scared me so much." Quinn looked back up, her eyes watering. "She hasn't said a nice word to me since that night."

I hugged Quinn again, unsure what to say or do. So her kid was a train wreck. Hadn't Quinn been there at that age as well, though?

"Come to work with me tomorrow, Q." I offered. "It'll take your mind of Kelly, and it will give her some space as well, without you both surrounding each other. Then we'll go walk some dogs, yeah?"

"That sounds lovely, Britt." She answered, pulling away and sorting her makeup out. "Thank you."

I decided to spend the rest of the time talking about other things so that she wouldn't constantly be on the edge of bursting into tears. It was becoming a little exhausting. Especially in my house.

...

The sight of Renata's face brought a warm, comforting smile to my own. Her tanned cheeks were flushed red from being so long in the cold and her little white bobble hat had made her hair stick out at all ends. I giggled at her as she unzipped Ellie's coat and hung it up on the wall.

"Did you have a good time in the snow, Ells?" I asked, kissing the top of my daughter's head.

"Yeah!" She squealed, jumping up into my arms excitedly. I hugged her and settled her on my hip. "Will kept chasing me and it was so slippy so I kept falling over!"

We both chuckled. "Are you okay, though?"

"Of course, Mommy. I'm not a baby you know."

"I know, sweetie."

Will walked in several seconds later, taking his hat off and rearranging his hair. "I got us some groceries, Mom."

"Oh, Will," I gushed, walking over to him to kiss his cheek. "You're an angel."

He smiled sheepishly before moving to the kitchen to unload it all. I went to speak to Renata but a loud banging on the front door stopped me.

"Who on earth...?" I mumbled, walking to the door to open it. As soon as I unlocked it, it slammed open and in stormed a girl I'd never met before.

She looked a little older than Renata and she was blonde. She had extremely tanned skin and she was wearing hardly any clothing for such cold weather. Just as I was about to ask who on earth she was, I spotted the nose ring and the tattoo behind her ear: NJP.

"Kelly," I breathed, closing the door and frowning at her. She looked at me like I was the devil. Thunder poured out of her eyes reminding me of a teenage Santana. And a very teenage Quinn.

"Where is she?" She demanded, looking around the room, her shoulder length blonde hair matted and dishevelled, like it hadn't been brushed in years. I guess she'd had dreadlocks and she'd only just cut them off. "Tell me where the fuck she is!"

I put Ellie down and told her to go and find Will in the kitchen. She did so, her little fingers shoved in her mouth.

"Kelly, would you like to come with me to the living room?" I offered, wanting to get away from Ellie's innocent ears.

"The fuck?" She exclaimed, raising her arms like I was mad. "I don't wanna sit and playing fucking tea and cake with you, lady. I just wanna know where the fuck my mom is!"

"Kelly, your-"

"Hey, Ke$ha," Renata interrupted, her eyes narrow, her tone edgy. "Don't you dare talk to my Mom like that."

I turned around to see my daughter stood, arms folded over her chest, looking like she was challenging God. She began walking towards Kelly, never taking her eyes off her. She was like a lion stalking it's prey.

"Now get out of my house before I physically have to remove that tangoed face of yours so I never have the pleasure of hearing your foul mouth infect my home and my family again. Understand?"

Kelly stood just in front of the door, her eyes just as narrow as my daughters, their postures mirrored. The blonde's eyes travelled down the length of Renata and back up to her eyes before she licked her lips and cocked her head menacingly.

"Well look what the lesbians dragged in." She said, raising an eyebrow.

My heart sped up and I went to take Kelly out of the room but Renata beat me to it.

"Excuse me?"

"Well, come on." Kelly smirked. "Only a dyke could produce such a poor excuse for a daughter."

This was getting too much. This kid – Kelly, Quinn's daughter – was beyond out of order. I didn't want Renata to get stuck in the middle of it. We hadn't been around any homophobia for a long while and I'd forgotten what it felt like to be called a dyke.

I wished I had Santana standing next to me. She'd know exactly what to say and what to do.

"Well I guess only a train wreck could produce such a poor excuse for a human."

Scratch that. Renata could do it too.

"Are you saying my mom is an unfit mother?" Kelly took a step forward. She was a little smaller than Renata.

"No," Renata replied, smiling and shaking her head. "I'm saying you're an unfit daughter. Now get out of my home before my mom's lesbian influence takes over me and I start having crazy sex with you on the floor." She raised her eyebrows challengingly. "Because, of course, we're all dykes here."

"I'd rather be taken by an elephant."

"Good. Because I'd rather take a human."

Kelly's eyes narrowed even further and before the two could grab each other's throats, I took a calm step towards the blonde, rested my hand on her shoulder and said, "Your Mom's not here. She went home about an hour ago."

Kelly shook my hand away, shooting me the most hardcore evils I'd received since high school. Probably from Quinn. She sneered before storming to the door. Just as she was walking out, she turned around and said, "If you see my Mom again, tell her to move her fucking ass here. Because I can't stand to share a house with a fucking whore."

My eyes must have visibly popped out of my head because Kelly snickered at me before slamming the door shut. I turned to Renata, ready to give her a hug and apologise for everything Kelly had said.

But she held out a hand from where she'd had them crossed and whispered a very dominant, "Don't."

I watched her walk quietly out the room and up to her bedroom, the whole while my heart feeling like it was going to smash up into thousands of tiny, tiny pieces.

What was I doing to my family?

...

To live on edge is the most exhausting experience. Every time I see a picture of Santana, it's like a bullet to the heart and it's all I can do not to scream at the sky because it hurts so badly. It makes me cold. It makes me scared. It makes me hurt.

Seeing Quinn's little blonde head bobbing towards me, four dogs pulling in front of her, it reminds me of what I'm missing out on. What my life could be like. What it means to live just a day without the constant worry that one half of your heart could disappear that day and never return.

"Hey, Q." I greeted, when she finally reached me. "Never thought I'd see this."

She laughed, handing me two of the leashes. "Take Smash and Snaps."

"Wow, that's a mouthful." I commented, petting the black spaniel and Jack Russell terrier.

"Tell me about it." Quinn replied, as we began walking through Central Park. "I have one customer who called his three dogs Ed, Eddie and Edward."

I raised my eyebrows.

"I know," Quinn said as we walked over a bridge. "Unbelievable."

"I bet that's confusing."

"It is."

I wasn't sure whether to bring up Kelly's appearance at my home two days ago. Quinn hadn't text or phoned me about it and the young girl hadn't bothered us again. I didn't know how the situation was with them at home.

"How's Kelly?"

Quinn sighed. "The same. She still refuses to get out of bed every day. I don't think she's eating enough."

"Kids won't let themselves starve, Q." I reminded her.

"No, Britt." Quinn disagreed, pausing momentarily to pull one of the dogs away from another. "Kelly's eighteen. She's not a kid anymore. She's quite aware of how hungry she is or isn't."

We walked in silence for a while. "You know Rachel Berry was bulimic at one point during junior year?"

"Really?"

"Yeah," I answered, ruffling Smash's ear. "I've been doing some research on eating disorders."

"Why?" Quinn frowned.

"Because I'm worried, Q." I admitted, looking ahead and letting out a long sigh. "Renata doesn't eat much either."

"What do you say at the dinner table?" Quinn asked.

"Nothing," I shrugged, looking down at the ground. "I don't want to push her."

"Why?"

"Because I can't bear it when she rejects me, Quinn."

The other blonde remained silent, soaking in my answer.

"Don't even think about asking why again." I mumbled, stopping to let Snaps pee.

Quinn laughed. "Okay." She caught my eye and smirked. "You've got more of a backbone since I last saw you, Britt."

I smiled. "Happens when you become a single parent."

"You're not a single parent."

"I know," I said. "But it feels like it sometimes. It's easier to be snappier than usual."

"Sure," Quinn understood, smiling gently. "Do you find it hard?"

"So hard," I whispered.

Quinn decided to change the subject. "Do you remember that time we were on our way to Cheerio's Nationals and Santana was so desperate to pee, she had to go in your water bottle?"

I giggled, remembering how my wife had made Quinn and I drape our coats and scarves across the seat so she could pee in private. We had been giggling so hard that Santana found it hard to aim right. I shook my head, grinning at the memory.

"And that time you guys cut my hair at Nationals when we were here," She motioned around us, "and Santana took about ten minutes to make the first cut because she was so scared of doing it wrong."

I laughed again, my head rolling back. That time was so funny. "San kept saying it was a medical procedure, remember? And that she had to wait ten minutes so that the hair could settle or something silly like that."

Quinn chuckled, resting her head on my shoulder as we walked. "Always like her to deny her feelings, eh?"

I nodded, knowing all too well. "Totally."

After the walk, when we reached back to where we started, I gave Smash and Snaps back to Quinn and kissed her on the cheek.

"We should make this some sort of thing." I suggested, smiling at my friend. "Like part of our routine. I liked it."

"Yeah, I'd really love that, Britt." She smiled back. "And you're doing so well; I'm so proud of you. You and Santana. You have a beautiful family from what I can tell in the pictures."

I wanted so bad to say the same thing back to her but however much I tried, I couldn't bring myself to say Kelly was just as adorable as my kids.

But then again, Renata hadn't been much better, so maybe I only saw the worst of Kelly.

"You should bring Kelly over to meet them." I offered, thinking that maybe that would help. Then I completely panicked, thinking Kelly would have to tell Quinn she'd already visited. I knew I needed to come clean.

"Hey, Q, there's something I need to tell you." I grimaced at my own fear. "Kelly came over the other day."

"What?"

"Yeah," I confirmed, holding my hands out. "She kinda demanded to see you but I told her you'd already gone."

"That girl."

"Q." I said, resting my hand on her arm. "Don't get mad at her. She's not happy and neither are you and you're taking it out on each other." I smiled reassuringly at her and dropped the touch. "You'll find your way. Both of you."

"Yeah, I hope you're right."

"Me too."

"I'll see you soon, Britt."

"See you, Quinn."

As I walked away, I couldn't help but wonder why I couldn't give myself the same kind of advice for my relationship with Renata as I had just done with Quinn and Kelly.

...

When I walked through the door that evening after spending over three hours trying to teach Rachel Berry the same move, I was greeted by the adorable image of my son sitting cross legged in front of little Ellie, slapping their hands towards each other, chanting away at a made up rhyme.

Santana and I used to play those hand games when we were younger.

As I sat down on the sofa and peeled off my winter jacket, I was reminded of the night my Latina and I moved in to this New York apartment.

"San, come to bed." I whined, rolling over in our fresh, new, pearly white sheets. "It's getting late."

The Latina appeared at the en suite door, toothbrush in mouth, and foam dripping down her chin. "One sec, baby." She mumbled, running back to the basin to wash the toothpaste out.

When she was finally in our bed, we lay side by side, facing each other, searching each other's beauty in the darkness. I smiled, contently.

"Remember when we were kids," I whispered, bringing a finger to her lips and running the pad along them. "And we made a den, or a tree house or something and we would always have, like, a christening?"

Santana giggled against my finger, nodding her head at the same time. "Sure, baby."

I smiled back. "We would always sing a song and clap along to it. You know, like those hand games."

"Yeah, I know, B." She replied, grinning in amusement.

"Hold your hands out." I said, removing mine from her lips and placing them together, like I was praying.

She snorted, copying me.

"Remember the one that we always sang because it was the only one we knew off by heart?" I asked, gently tapping Santana's hands. She nodded. "Let's do it now; let's christen this apartment."

She laughed a little under her breath – that beautiful laugh that made my heart flutter like white butterflies in a sunny meadow.

"Come on then, let's do it." She said, tapping my hands back.

The sailor went to the sea, sea, sea

To see what he could see, see, see

But all that he could see, see, see

Was the bottom of the deep blue sea, sea, sea.

We giggled sheepishly at each other when it ended. I slapped Santana's face lightly with my hand and she rolled over on top of me, locking me beneath her by wrapping her left arm around my neck and her right cupping my head. She stroked my ear with the pad of her thumb, tracing the contours of my face with her irresistible mocha brown eyes. She smiled down at me – the most delicate smile I had ever seen gracing her features – and bit the very corner of her bottom lip.

"You're beautiful, Brittany." She said, tracing my hairline, my eyes, my nose and then my lips. "So very beautiful."

I smiled appreciatively up at her, never wanting to look anywhere but her eyes.

"Imagine us, B," She began, smiling into my eyes. "In twenty years time, living here, in New York, in this apartment with let me see..." She counted the rooms we had in her head and looked back at me. "Three beautiful children, just like you and – god help us – me, running riot and causing mayhem, slapping paint among the walls, throwing mashed baby food across the table, chucking kids toys all over the floor – everywhere, all over the place. Imagine us lying in this bed, Christmas Eve and having three tiny You's curled up asleep between us, sleeping so peacefully, you'd think they'd just been born. Imagine us making love above a city that never sleeps and knowing that nobody – not even the gammy little pigeon that lives on the gutter outside our room – will ever, ever understand the kind of love we share." She paused to kiss the corner of my mouth and then she smiled. "Because you, Brittany, are my entire being and without you, I don't exist."

I smiled, pulling her closer to me. "I like imagining that last one, San."

She smirked. "We don't have to imagine it, B. We can live it."

"Now?"

"Forever."

...

And as I slept in our bed that night, the same fresh, new, pearly white sheets that we had bought that very first day enveloping me with their warmth, I dreamt of all the times Santana had told me 'Forever'.

Because Forever was always where Santana would be.

I really hope you liked this chapter. Next chapter will be a letter and will not be written through the eyes of neither Brittany or Santana. I'll leave it up to you to guess who the mystery speaker is Please do review! It inspires me to write. And I'd like to get this story out there for the world before Christmas, maybe just to provide some comfort for those going through similar things. Thanks again! Oh and please tell me if you liked any of the new characters I've created and what's been your favourite moment so far. Poppy x