Chapter 9: Hide and Seek
It's been five days.
It's been five days since Brittany woke up, cold and alone. It's been five days since she started leaving messages in Santana's phone because she wouldn't pick up. It's been five days since she heard from Santana at all. She tried reaching her. She went to the law firm but Puck remained tight-lipped and would only shake his head until Brittany decides to give up and search somewhere else. She went to the house but each and every time, Quinn answers the door instead, a constant worried look on her face.
"San, please. Please answer your phone. I'm worried sick about you. Call me back. Please." Brittany ends the voice mail and sighs as she gets up from her bed, tired form the lack of sleep from another night filled with unease. She tries to count how many messages she'd left. Twenty?Thirty?
Brittany goes through her morning routine like she's a zombie. Her mind is filled with thoughts of Santana and where the brunette could possibly be. Sure, she understands that Santana needed her space. But after the first couple of days of not hearing from her, Brittany began to worry that something might have happened.
The blonde sighs, feeling her tasteless breakfast push its way down her throat.
It's pointless, she thinks, glaring at her favorite cereal as if it were at fault. She marches to the counter and lifts the lid of the trash can violently before throwing the remaining contents of her breakfast inside. She washes the dishes in tense silence and when she's done, she grips the counter hard.
"Damn it, Santana." She says. Anger, a foreign feeling, courses through her veins. But Brittany knows that she's not angry at anyone else but herself.
She promised her that she wouldn't let go, yet she feels like that's exactly what she's doing. Brittany feels angry at herself for being useless. She'd finally managed to reach a part of Santana and here she is sulking because the real issue has nothing to do with Santana pulling away. Deep inside, she's afraid of being with Santana. She's afraid that she might lose who she is right now in order to be who Santana need.
Tears cascaded down the perfect face she'd grown to look out for – the face that unknowingly made an impact on her in such a way that she looks for it at the end of the day because she knows her day is never really complete without seeing her. The blonde has no idea when she started feeling like she wants to live for the sole purpose of living for Santana. Brittany wraps a firm arm around the trembling Santana, pulling her close and maybe in a sense, pulling herself as intact as possible.
The blonde closes her eyes, and forces herself to calm down. She sorts out her emotions and lets the anger be flushed out of her system. She digs through her memories, trying to locate the memory of that feeling that pushed her to do something, anything for Santana.
It started with a wary look, a quiet chuckle, a broken expression. Then there was the shining fear, the cold blade of panic, and painful memories. She had countered every negative thing with a promise, a hug, and a smile. In turn, Santana responded by protecting her, letting her stay, opening up to her. Then she held her, let her cry, and told her that she'd stay. Santana had kissed her. And then…
…and then she laughed.
Brittany could remember vividly how Santana's permanent frown disappeared into nothingness, how full, pouty lips stretched, how the tingling sound had touched her core, and how carefree and happy Santana had looked like.
Her heart begins to thump faster and slowly, she feels that feeling of seeing her laugh once again and Brittany knows that she'd found herself once again. She remembers that she began to care when Santana only knew how to frown and make sarcastic remarks and she'd started to fall for her when she laughed.
Brittany's falling. And she's as sure as hell not going to do anything to stop it. She releases a relieved sigh and smiles softly, the sound Santana's laughter ringing in her head.
Today.
Today, no matter what, she will find Santana.
"Someone's having a bad day." Mercedes says as she watches Santana barge in through her office with the force of a hurricane. She throws her entire body to the couch, her back hitting the cushion hard. Santana doesn't even flinch. It's like she feels nothing but the red and hot emotion taking over her entire being.
"It's fucking unfair." Santana starts. Mercedes readies her pen and paper and waits for Santana to finish. This is the first time Santana actually offered something to her without having to be forced. Santana growls and Mercedes could see the rage reflected in her usually broken eyes.
Santana could feel the fire burning her being. It was overwhelming and disorienting that after all this time, she could still feel so much anger. She could feel it in everything.
"It's everywhere. When I wake up in the morning, I feel like throwing something at my reflection. When I see Quinn and Caleb, I feel like burning the ground they're walking on. When I hear Brittany, I feel like killing 's fucking unfair because I'm supposed to be mending. It's unfair because I can't even feel anything aside from this deep shit feeling." Santana inhales and even the pleasure of breathing angers her. What right does she have after all, to breathe in fresh air?
Mercedes watches her client. She's different today. She wasn't broken and on a positive note, she's no longer in denial. But she's angry and Mercedes knows that Santana might not even know why she's feeling that way.
"Why are you angry?" Santana glares at the ceiling and Mercedes is surprised that it doesn't melt.
"I'm angry at the injustice of my life. I'm angry at how nothing is how it's supposed to be. I'm angry at the fact that I have to talk to you to make myself better because I can't do it alone."
"Okay." Mercedes says once she's finished. "But what's the real reason you're angry?" Santana glares at her.
"I just told you, Wheezy."
"No, you told me the things you're angry at. But do you know why you're angry at those things? Do you know why you're angry at the unfairness of it all, the fact that nothing is right, and at me for being able to help you? I didn't ask you what are you angry at, Ms. Lopez I asked you why you feel that anger." Mercedes says in a tone that pisses off Santana.
Santana says nothing, not knowing how to answer the question and this time, Santana feels anger at herself for not knowing. Today, she decides, either the world is against her or she is against the world because of some unfathomable reason.
"You need to figure out why, Santana. You need to know before your anger becomes something that can hurt the people you care about." The brunette remains silent, the frustration doing nothing but continue to rise. She feels helpless against it, yet she wants nothing more than to escape from everything.
She's powerless.
Santana doesn't say anything for the remaining thirty minutes of the session opting to stay quiet in an attempt to somehow appease the volcano inside her. After the session, she stands up mechanically, not even sparing Mercedes a glance. She walks out of the room as calmly as she can but as soon as she's greeted by the busy buzz of the city, everything is back to red again and she can't do anything about it.
She fights more ferociously at court, trying to make good use of her anger. She states her points clearly and out of the thirty something people in the small room, her client was the only one smiling happily at her. She forces her stand on the opposing attorney, staring him down as if her life depended on it. The judge declared her client innocent as if she did so to get the brunette out of the courtroom as soon as possible.
"Whoa there, tiger." Santana glares at the source of the voice. Puck greets her with both hands raised in defense, an amused smile on his face.
"Something you need, Puckerman?" Santana works to keep her voice leveled.
"I just wanted to come by and congratulate you. Heard you won a case so fast, I think you broke the record." Santana continues to move towards her office, intent on ignoring the man beside her. "Oh come on. I go out of my way to talk to you and you ignore me."
"Go find someone to fuck, Puckerman and leave me alone." Puck raises an eyebrow at the snide remark.
"What got your Satan out and about?"
"Seriously, leave me alone." Santana curses Puck's stubborn attitude.
"So, are you going to stop going to Henessey's right after finishing your nonexistent paperwork in broad daylight?" Puck says.
"Now why would I do that?"
"Brittany was here yesterday and the day before that and the day before that…"
"I know!"
"Blondie looked like she was gonna cry. Don't you think it's time to leave a blank message at the least?" Santana sighs.
"No. Not yet. Not until I fix whatever the hell is wrong with me."
"Sweetheart, that's gonna take a lifetime." Santana slaps Puck's arms and Puck playfully dodges the assault, already expecting it. "But seriously, sort your shit. She can't wait forever you know."
"I'm trying you jackass!" Puck smiles sadly at her.
"Try harder." He dodges and manages to get away before she can reach him. Santana angrily opens the door and slamming it shut with a force that shook the building. Her secretary cowered behind the desk and Santana could see the beads of sweat forming on his forehead.
"Do I have anything for the rest of this godforsaken afternoon?" She asks coldly. Her secretary searches through the piles of paper trying to locate her schedule. He finds it with a relieved smile, his hands shaking.
"You're free to go, Ma'am." Santana walks past him before he could finish the sentence, flopping down on her comfortable chair and immediately began sifting through the cases of her desk that could wait till tomorrow.
"Fucking people can't solve their own fucking problems." She mutters under her breath darkly. The fuming brunette reads through case after case, trying to find something worth reading. Finally, just after two o' clock, she sets down the papers and sighs heavily. She missed lunch again. Brittany's break should be over by now. She's safe to go out. Santana spins around to look at the city through the massive glass.
She picks up her phone from deep in her bag. She had turned it off in an effort to avoid her calls. The first thing that greeted her as she switched it on is a new voicemail and six text messages. She opened the voicemail first.
"San, please. Please answer your phone. I'm worried sick about you. Call me back. Please."
Santana's heart aches at the desperation and sadness in Brittany's voice. She hates it more than anything yet she needs to stay away from Brittany for a while. She's not an idiot after all. She knows what her anger can do. She knows how sharp it is and more often than not, she knows how she can end an entire relationship with her words. It's already a miracle that Quinn and Caleb and maybe even Puck stayed. She's not willing to push her luck on Brittany. She doesn't deserve it.
Brittany's chest rises up and down calmly. Santana is surrounded by everything that is Brittany. Her smell, her arms, her hair. She could hear the blonde's heart, her ear pressed against her chest. Santana breathes her in a moment longer before lifting her head and looking at Brittany's face. She's sleeping uneasily. And as Santana moves to pull away slightly, Brittany shifts in her sleep, her body instantly tense. Santana stills until the blonde relaxes once again, her hold on her slightly lose. Santana moves out of her arms as gently as she could. Once she succeeded, she sits at the edge of the couch watching Brittany sleep.
She has to leave.
She could feel the beginnings of anger blossom in her chest, slowly taking over cell by cell. She's stuck. She's still fucking stuck even after almost two years after. More than that, she's still dragging people around. She's still hurting someone. She's still robbing someone of their right to sleep restfully in the night.
She has to leave.
She has to sort out everything before she blows on the one person she wants to protect more than anything. Santana reaches out to brush a stray strand of hair from Brittany's face. The streetlight outside is hitting the blonde's face and Santana's breath hitches.
She retracts her hand. She stands up. She walks away.
Santana tears her eyes away from the busy city. She stands up from her chair and reaches for her bag. She puts the thickest case in it walks away from her desk. Her secretary tenses as if awaiting all hell to break loose. Santana would have laughed. Maybe another day. She walks out of the door. Not more than ten feet away from the exit, Santana spots Puck. She sees his posture immediately change. And then Santana sees her.
Moving as swift as she can, she moves to hide herself behind a large post closest to Puck and Brittany.
"Puck. Please. I need to know where she is." Brittany says. She rushed here as soon as she finished lunch with Quinn and Caleb. She figured that since the Latina was not able to make it to their daily lunch, she might still be at work. Initially, she wanted to search for the Latina herself. But that option was quickly crossed out as soon as she stepped inside the massive building. Puck found her after almost ten minutes of staring dumbly at the entrance.
"I swear, I don't know where she is." Puck says. Brittany, as panicked as she was looks skeptically at the man in front of her.
"You're lying." She says bluntly. At this point, all desperation can be seen on her face. Behind the post, Santana watches the conversation while making sure that she's completely out of Brittany's line of sight.
"I'm not! Besides, you know her, Britt. If she's been nowhere near you then the only thing I can say is that she needs to stay away from a while."
"I know that! But she's been missing for five days! Five days, Puck. I'm worried."
"I'm sure she's fine."
"She's not! I know she's not." Puck knows that he's running out of excuses and he had to get the blonde away from the place as soon as possible. He could practically feel the agitation radiating from Santana and the intense desperation from Brittany. Goddamn it. He thinks why of all people it had to be him stuck in the middle of this. He thinks that he deserves better than this. For example, a threesome.
"Brittany, I know it's hard. But please she needs to be alone for the moment. She doesn't want to hurt you."
"She's already hurting me." Brittany says, her eyes downcast. Damn you, Santana, for making a girl like this cry, Puck thinks. Behind the post, Santana curses her life for the nth time.
"Everything's going to be okay. Don't give up. She'll come out eventually. You just have to wait." Santana hears her sniff and she hates herself more than anything.
I'm sorry, B.
"You know, I think it's about time you cut your crap, get your head together, and face your anger." Puck's voice surprises her. He's glaring at her. "You heard her, didn't you? You're hurting her. You're doing the one reason why you're avoiding her. It's time to get the fuck up Santana. .Hurting. Her." He walks away from her before she could retaliate.
Santana stands alone and lost in the crowd of busy people with their own problems. Her fists are clenched, her expression pained. She knows that Puck is right but until and unless she fixes the rage within her, she can't afford to face Brittany. She's going to hurt her more than she already has.
Santana walks her way home though in her head, she feels more like crawling.
Quinn walks through the doors of Caleb's building with a sense of pride. She had the office dismiss her early for today, wanting to spend time with Caleb. She spent most of last night thinking about him and about how it's time to tell him what she feels. Quinn smiles inwardly and she's practically glowing. The people around her stare longer than necessary as she walks through the glass doors, chin up high, heels clicking confidently. The people at the lobby nod shyly at her. They let her in without question, used to the routine whenever she visits.
She walks in the elevator and she could hardly wait. She thinks about tomorrow and how it's going to be so different and the same. She thinks about how she's finally ready to have another relationship. She thinks about how she could finally trust someone to care for her for the rest of her life if possible. Suddenly, the elevator is taking to slow and Quinn finds herself tapping her foot excitedly. When the door finally opened to Caleb's office, Quinn's smile couldn't get any bigger. She walks fast and with purpose to the secretary.
And then, her world shatters.
Caleb sighs. He sulks on his desk trying to get the work piled on it done as soon as possible. His secretary refuses to let him go, saying that it is her job to make sure that his ass stays on his thousand dollar chair until and unless he finishes everything. Caleb curses himself for hiring such a responsible secretary. Now he's stuck signing a lot of contracts and making phone calls since the day started and he wants nothing more than to spend the rest of the day with Quinn.
Caleb sighs a second time and his secretary shoots him a glare to which he retaliates with his own glare. He huffs and looks back it the bunch of expensive-looking paper creating their own kind of chaos on his desk. He starts of thinking of ways of getting the hell out of his office. He loves his job, no doubt. But he loves Quinn more.
Caleb decides that option one is simply stupid. He's not going to jump from twenty floors and expect to be alive by the time his face meets the asphalt. Option two, the hey-I-need-to-use-the-bathroom excuse has little chance of working since his secretary would most likely make a guard follow him because the last time he pulled that card out, his phone almost broke with all the missed calls and the company almost shut down. Option three is just the result of his lack of better imagination. He will not crawl his way out of the office. But option four had the most chance that it will work. But doing it is idiotic. There are a lot of buts in option number four but Caleb thinks that if he really wants to get the hell out of this office he'd have to do it. It will most likely work. After all, his secretary's a girl at heart to right?
He standsup from his chair instantly acquiring her wary attention. Caleb brushes a hand through his unruly back hair and sighs a third time that day. He knows that this would irk his secretary thereby winning her complete and undivided attention. He looks at her as if only noticing the attention he was getting for the last seconds. Caleb gives her his trademark charming smile and against the afternoon light, he looked like he was character lifted right out of a clichéd romantic book. His secretary flushes a brilliant pink color. And then, as if catching herself, she quickly gains composure and instead glares at him.
"You're not done, sir. There are a lot more things you need to do." She says, sternly and stubbornly. Caleb curses inside. Nevertheless, deciding that it was too early to give up, he saunters over to her and plants his hands on her desk making sure to flex his muscles. His secretary looks completely and utterly uninterested that Caleb loses hope and therefore drops the fourth option of flirting his way out.
"Oh, come on, Sheila! I've been stuck in this office for the whole day. I have a life, you know."
"I have a life too, sir." Sheila says evenly.
"I have a girlfriend!" She raises a perfect eyebrow.
"Did she say it already?" Caleb looks away.
"Soon." Sheila laughs and Caleb glares at her. "Let me out of here and I'll make her say it to me."
"You can't force a girl to do or say anything, sir. Every gentleman knows that." Caleb sighs. It's time to pull out the last and probably the only card he has from the start. He digs in his pocket and pulls out a velvet rectangular box.
"I want to give this to her." Caleb lifts the velvet cover to reveal a silver necklace. It had a small, platinum ring dangling at the center. "It's a promise ring. I had it strung to the necklace because I want her to wear it when she's ready. It's been in my freaking pocket for a week, Sheila. I need to give it to her." His secretary gazes at the necklace and ring, impressed. She looks up at him.
"You really think she'll be ready someday." Caleb lifts the necklace from the box, his gaze tender and soft and Sheila knows she's never seen someone so in love in her entire life.
"I don't think so. I know so. Even if it takes her a long time, I'll wait. She's worth more than anything money can buy." Sheila touches the ring lightly. And Caleb holds it with pride.
"What will you say when you give this to her."
"The one thing I want to live my life saying."
"And what's that?" Caleb smiles a genuine smile.
"… 'I love you'." Sheila giggles and whispers "sap" to which Caleb flushes in embarrassment.
In that moment, Quinn, who was there to witness the last three lines of their conversation, drops her phone creating a loud clatter. Caleb looks at her stunned. Tears are building at the corner of her eyes fast and Caleb takes a step toward her.
"Quinn! Q, listen to me." Quinn shakes her head, unable to speak through the pain of hearing him say those words to someone other than her. She takes a step back, trying to make as much distance form him as possible.
"Q, please. It's not what it looks like." Quinn gives him the glare that she and Santana were known for. Caleb turns desperate just as she processes hurt as anger.
"How dare you." She spits out, her fists clenched hard. She spares a glance at the secretary who looks as mortified as Caleb. Anger overtakes her judgment. "Enjoy life without me." She growls before turning on her heels and running to the elevator that was about to close. Caleb couldn't come after her even if he wanted to. He stands frozen in the middle of his office, his mind unable to process what he may have just lost.
"Damn it, Quinn."
Quinn bursts through her front door just in time as the tears she worked so hard to keep in began to fall. She blindly takes of her shoes and throws her keys to the kitchen counter. She stumbles her way to the refrigerator deciding it is definitely the right moment to bring out her gallon of chocolate ice cream. She digs through the contents of the ref.
"Where the fuck is the damn ice cream?" She yells out.
"It's here!" Santana's voice from the living room startles her. She'd gotten used to the silence of the house after five days of coming home and going out of it alone that she really was not expecting anyone. Quinn grunts as she stands up from the floor. She brisk walks to the living room, needing the relief from the heartache fast.
"You're home early and you look like crap." Santana says as soon as she appears from the doorway. She surveys Quinn from head to toe and notes the wet cheeks and red-rimmed eyes. Quinn glares at her and the brunette smiles sheepishly.
"I'm surprised you're home." The blonde quips. She grabs the gallon of ice cream out of Santana's hands, immediately shoving a spoonful in her mouth. She pulls her feet to her chest, looking over at Santana. Just like what she did, Quinn surveys her companion, noting the mess she calls hair and bruises on her knuckles.
"Stop staring. You're creeping me out." Santana says, looking away from Quinn.
"How'd the wall feel?" Santana flexes her knuckles slowly.
"Like a bitch."
"Well, duh. Where the hell were you? You're really making it a habit to make us worry a lot. Have you ever heard of the boy who cried wolf?" Quinn shoves another spoon in her mouth.
"Mind your own shit." Santana says, retrieving the ice cream from Quinn and showing two spoonfuls before Quinn could protest. "Why the hell did you have to buy chocolate ice cream? We are so going to blow." The brunette tries to deflect. She looks back to Quinn and curiosity finally gets the best of her. "What happened to you?" Quinn glares at her.
"Mind your own shit."
"Fair enough." The duo turns to the TV.
"What are we watching?" Quinn asks, taking the ice cream.
"No Strings Attached. It's about to end though." They fall into their own thoughts as they watch the characters in the movie bare their hearts to each other.
"It's okay. I watched this already." With Caleb, she thinks.
"…but I love you. I'm totally and completely in love with you and I don't care if you think it's too late, I'm telling you anyway."
Silence.
"Goddammit, say something you idiot!" Santana yells and Quinn nods her agreement.
"She's finally committing to you and you friggin' stare at her?" Quinn mutters darkly. Santana's hands find the pillow beside her and decide to squeeze the feathers out of it in frustration. Quinn grips the half-empty ice cream tub, her body leaning forward to the screen slightly.
"Please say something…"
"Wait. You should know…"
Kutcher pauses and so do Quinn and Santana who were saying the line in perfect sink with the movie. "That if you come any closer, I'm not letting you go."
"Move, bitch!" Santana says as soon as she finishes the line with Quinn. When Portman finally drops all hesitation and pushes herself forward to meet waiting lips, Santana and Quinn fall back to the couch, sighing heavily.
"Damn this people. Why are they so lucky? They're not in denial in the end. No anger. They just get their mack on like rabbits. Why can't I have that?" Santana rants, shoving another spoon as soon as she finishes. "I mean, seriously? Why can't they die in sorrow and anguish like how it is in reality?"
"I'm pretty sure no one wants to see that, San."
"Tch."
"Caleb was flirting with another woman." Santana looks at Quinn and without another word, hands the ice cream to her. Quinn doesn't question it. She stares at the brown sweet forlornly. "I was about to tell him I love him too but then as soon as I entered his office, he was all over his slut of a secretary. God, men are huge pigs. I can't believe I actually trusted him." Santana raises an eyebrow.
"Are you sure he was flirting with the woman?"
"Are calling me blind, Lopez?"
"No, Fabray, I'm calling you stupid. Did you even let him explain?"
"What was there to say? I saw it with my own eyes!"
"No, Q. I don't think you did. Caleb is stupid, arrogant, and annoying. He's many things actually. But I don't think he would do that to you." Quinn shoves a spoon forcefully that Santana heard the clash of teeth and metal.
Quinn feels guilty. Damn it, she's to feel betrayed and angry. But no, Santana just had to say that and now here she was thinking that maybe Caleb really had an explanation. She remembers the way his face contorted in pain when she told him to enjoy life without her. The way he seemed frozen and the slightest hint of hurt in his eyes.
She swallows another spoonful.
"Don't hog the ice cream, bitch." Santana says as she grabs the ice cream from her friend. Quinn doesn't retaliate. The brunette feels sympathy for her and as lame as she is in comforting other people, she settles with patting her friend on the arm several times until it feels awkward.
"You should call him." Santana says, thinking how hypocritical she sounds.
"I know." Quinn sighs, the anger from earlier slowly easing away. "You should call her too, you know." She says, pointedly. Santana sighs.
"I know." The brunette drops the spoon. "I was at Henessey's most of the week, trying to sort things out."
"Over alcohol?" Quinn says it with no judgment, just concern.
"I couldn't even drink. I was too angry to drink. Every time I held the bottle, I feel the urge to throw it to someone's face. I was so angry. And I didn't want hurt anyone more than I already had. So I tried staying away from her and her damn perfect life."
"Did that do anything?" Santana closes her eyes.
"She's already hurting me." She remembers the quiver in her voice and the way it seemed to drop almost as if the thought was not meant to be shared.
"No."
"Figures."
"We're stupid."
"Uh-huh." Quinn whispers her agreement.
"Damn you and your commitment issues. You know Caleb. You know he's been seeing only you since forever." Quinn smiles sadly at her because she knows that Santana's neither angry nor accusing.
"And damn you for being such an angry person that you can't even see straight past that thick skull of yours or else you'd have been able to understand that the best way to get rid of it is not staying away and disappearing for days but to talk it out in order for you to understand why you are angry in the first place." Santana's smile matches that of Quinn's.
Santana grips the sweater closer to her body. She's standing outside Brittany's doorstep at eleven in the evening. Quinn had kicked her out saying it's about damn time to 'your head out of your ass' to quote. She's been standing on her doorstep for fifteen minutes and is well on her way to considering the option of just coming back tomorrow.
"Do you ever plan on knocking?" Brittany's voice startles the wits out of her and she stumbles away from the door. "Aren't you cold or something?" And in a much quieter voice that Santana had to take a step forward toward the door to hear she asks, "Are you going to run away again?"
Santana stares at her feet hard. The frustration that was drained from her since her conversation with Quinn begins to return and Santana could feel the beginnings of anger. She takes a deep breath and counts to ten, trying to get rid of the red obscuring her vision. She's been fucking up for more than half of her life. She's not going to fuck up this one.
"I'm sorry." She says as clearly and as calmly as she can. She touches the door somehow feeling that Brittany's hand is on the other side. "I'm sorry I made you worry."
"You disappeared, San."
"I know, I'm sorry."
"Is that all you have to say?" Brittany says. It's hurting her that she can't open the door because she wants Santana to realize what she did wrong. It's hurting her that Santana's all alone out there. It's hurting her that she can probably do is talk to her through a wooden door because Santana won't let her anywhere near her.
Santana takes another step forward, leaning her head on Brittany's door. She could hear faint sniffing on the other side and she could only clench her fists to prevent herself from punching the wall as if it were her own face.
"I needed space. I was… am angry. I'm angry because I never healed. I'm angry because I'm still as fucked up as I was when – when it happened. I'm angry because I can't be anywhere near you. I'm angry because I'm ruining your life."
"You're not. That's not true." Brittany says weakly on the other side. The quiver in her voice turns Santana's anger into desperation.
"I am. Every single time I cry or live in my own personal hell or have nightmares, I ruin your life. I make you worry, I even make you cry. You don't sleep as restful as you did before you met me. I'm dragging you down with me." Santana says. She is filled with a sudden sense of calm having laid it out there.
"I don't care." Santana's heart breaks and at the same time it mends a little.
"True. But I care. That's why I had to stay away from you."
"I don't understand." Frustration laces Brittany's voice and Santana wishes she could touch her so she could calm her.
"When I'm angry, I do horrible things. I didn't want to hurt you."
"But you did."
"I know. I know and I'm sorry. I understand now. I have to let everything that makes me angry out without hurting anyone. So I'm going to be selfish. Will you let me in, B? I'd like to talk to you and I need you to calm me down. No, I need you for more than that." It takes all of Brittany's will power to stay where she is – to not open the door. She needs to know why Santana would do such a thing. She needs to know if she's hoping for something that exists and that she's not hoping for nothing. She needs to know if Santana would like to stay with her as much as Brittany does.
"Why?" Her voice is hoarse and rough but Santana hears her anyway. "Why me of all people? Why don't you go talk it out with Quinn or Caleb?"
Santana loses the strength in her shoulders and she relaxes, surrendering.
"Because you did this to me. You found me. You made me want to heal…" She hesitates debating if it's the right time. Then again, it doesn't matter. Every day with Brittany will always be the right time. "Because Brittany, I love you so much it makes me want to be the person you deserve."
The door opens then, the light from inside temporarily blinding Santana. There's a flash of blonde hair and teary blue eyes and before she knew it, lips claimed hers. Brittany kisses her like it's the first and last time she's ever going to. Brittany kisses her until she feels a sense of belonging. Brittany kisses her until the fear fades away into nothingness, the anger dissolving into nothing but a memory. She steals her breath away and gives her life at the same time. When she pulls away, Brittany whispers 'I love you' like a mantra, as if she's trying to ingrain it into Santana's scarred soul. She whispers it as if she's trying to heal each and every bleeding would in Santana's heart.
And it was there in Brittany's arms that Santana knows what it feels like to be found.
They talk for hours that night. Santana spills everything there is. She tells her about how angry she was when she realized that she was still stuck in the past. Then, she tells her how angry she was when she realized that she's dragging everyone to her own hell – something she knows they don't deserve. She tells her how angry she is about being alone and lonely – how angry she is about ruining the lives of others.
In turn, Brittany listens to each and every word as if it were her lifeline. She reaches out to take Santana's hand when she comes to close to crying. She caresses her face when Santana tells her that she didn't mean to hurt her and that she would never ever intentionally do so. She holds her when Santana spills the last of her anger and frustrations and shares the relief the brunette was feeling.
Because really, Santana wasn't the only one who was found.
A/N: Blame the internet. It hates me. I am so so sorry about the long waits. I swear I tried to update sooner. To all the anonymous reviews, I hope you know that I thank you so much for sharing to me your thoughts and time. The rest of you, I hope you got my reply. :) to the people who put this on alert, you guys are awesome. Same to those who put me and this story in their favorites. I love you people. Oh yeah, don't worry, I haven't forgotten about Quinn and Caleb. Something to look forward to in the next chapter maybe? ;)
This chapter is dedicated to privatephilosopher, the author of Setting Rain on Fire, an awesome, earth-shattering fic by the way. This is for you. Because you know what I want to say before I could even think of it. Because you're there for me. Because you are simply amazing. Don't forget it. Bitch, I want you to know that you're worth more than what you think – that you deserve happiness just as much as the Santana in this story does. I want you to know that this whole story is for you because I want to give you hope that someday everything will be okay. I want you to know that those wounds of yours will heal no matter how impossible you think it may be. I want you to know that you deserve to live your life the way you want to. And most of all, I want you to know that no matter what happens, I will always, always be here for you. :)
Guys, tell me what you think? Reviews make me happy. ;)
Brittana (perfection),
theangel1710