A/N: I'm no doctor nor have I ever been to a therapist, so there's a good chance that the things I write are total crap that no one would ever actually say but I'll try to make things plausible.
"Ms Lopez, Dr Sanderson will see you now," the receptionist of the small office called from behind her desk where the steady clacking of fingernails on keyboard keys were filling the room. Santana sighed and reluctantly loosened her grip on the arm rests she had been holding onto for dear life and pushed herself up.
"I'll be here when you're done," Kurt lowered his magazine to give her a reassuring smile. "Blaine says she knows what she's doing so please, give her a chance."
Santana gives him a fake smile back and nods before she pushes open the slightly jarred door to Dr Sanderson's office. When Santana steps into the room she finds Dr Sanderson sitting behind a large desk. He's a handsome young man, probably around 30, and has a pair of reading glasses resting on the bridge of his nose which was buried in some sort of paper work. He doesn't look up until he hears the door click shut behind Santana.
"Ah Ms Lopez," he says with a smile as he slips his glasses off of his face and into the front pocket of his gray, black, and white flannel. Santana found it interesting that a person in Dr Sanderson's profession would dress so casually what with the flannel and jeans he adorned. But nonetheless, it made her feel more comfortable that she would have been had the doctor been some man in a lab coat with a pipe sticking out of his mouth as she'd imagined. It would be more like talking to a friend than getting analyzed by someone because she was crazy.
"Santana's fine, better actually," she said as she reached out to take the hand that Dr Sanderson had extended to her for a greeting.
"Well you're free to call me Dr Sanderson or Kyle, whichever you prefer," he motioned to the plushy-looking leather couch. "Have a seat."
Santana sat and watched as Dr Sanderson- rather, Kyle - sat on an identical one opposite her. He crossed on leg over the other and leaned back with his hands clasped in his lap. Santana bounced her leg and stared at the ground, not wanting to make eye contact and hopefully avoiding actually talking for at least a few more moments.
"It's okay to be nervous," Kyle's voice pervaded Santana's ears and she looked up on instinct. "A lot of people are reluctant to come in and talk to me even if though they're here of their own accord and can leave whenever they want. It's mainly an issue of getting the ball rolling, it's hard to start talking but once you get going it'll be a thousand times easier."
"How do I start then?" Santana asked, finally making eye contact.
"However you want, we don't even have to tackle the real reason you felt you needed to come and see me," Kyle said with a shrug. "You can tell me about your favorite movie, what bands you like, some fond childhood memory. Or we could just get right to it if you'd rather get straight to business."
"I think business," Santana said after a moment of pondering. "I wouldn't be here if I hadn't spent so much time putting off dealing with 'business', as you call it."
"In that case, the floor is yours," Kyle let himself sink into the couch and waited for Santana to start.
"Brittany was my girlfriend, the love of my life," Santana began with a shaky exhale. "We'd known each other since we were kids and I think I was in love with her before I was old enough to even know that that was what I was feeling. We were best friends, totally inseperable. Then in 8th grade she kissed me during one of our weekly sleepovers. I remember it so clearly, we were just sitting together curled up on my bed watching a movie like we always did and she just leaned over and kissed me. Nothing too crazy it was a first for both of us, it was tame but intense to kids like us."
Santana laughed at the memory.
"When she pulled away she asked me if she had bad breath or something because I apparently looked absolutely stunned. My mouth was all hung open and I was wide-eyed. I remember almost wanting to call my dad upstairs because I thought I was having a heart attack, my heart was beating that fast. But then I told her I just hadn't expected that and that her breath was fine. Then she asked if she could kiss me again and I said yes. I'm sure that my eighth grade self thought that we went crazy that night but we kept it pretty tame. We just ended up cuddling together and fell asleep like always. The next morning we woke up and she asked if I was okay. The night before I'd been so excited and happy but when I woke up I had had time to really absorb what had happened and I told her we had fun but nothing more.
"For the next three years we would hook up all the time. But I kept telling myself and her that we were just keeping one another occupied when there wasn't a boy to go to on any given night. I figured that I wasn't supposed to feel the way I did about her but I couldn't just give her up so I settled with that reasoning. Three years of screwing guys left and right but not a single one of them made me feel anything that Brittany did. Honestly though, I think I could have denied my feelings forever. Hell, if it weren't for Brittany I'd probably be married to some equally closeted guy and we'd be miserable together. But, and thank God she did, during junior year Brittany called me out on my shit and actually made us talk.
"I remember going to this substitute teacher, Holly Holiday- she was really cool and easy to talk to. She brought us into her 'sexy sharing circle' and kind of got a dialogue going between us. Well, she got us to sing a song together, 'Landslide', and to this day I mean every word. Hell I think I might mean it more today than ever before because now that she's gone I think the best way to describe myself is buried beneath a landslide. It's like a was on top of a mountain and then when she was gone the side of that mountain fell off and I got trapped beneath it all."
Santana's voice was shaking now and a few tears had begun to cascade down her cheeks. Kyle got up during her pause and went to his desk to grab a box of tissues, which she took with a quiet 'thanks'.
"Keep telling me the story of you and Brittany," Kyle prompted once Santana had recomposed herself and dried her eyes.
"Okay, ummm well," she began, trying to remember where she'd left off. "Right. Well we sang the song in front of all our friends in our glee club and Rachel, she's a really close friend now, she applauded us for exploring 'sapphic charm'. I freaked out because the second I let myself be vulnerable the exact thing I'd been afraid of happening happened; someone tried to label me as something that I knew could potentially destroy me in small town Ohio. She definitely wasn't being malicious but it still pushed me back a few steps in terms of how I let people in public perceive me. Nevertheless the song got me thinking and I was able to admit that I was without a doubt in love with Brittany. Hell not only did I love Brittany but I hated guys and felt zero attraction to them. I was gay as gay can get.
"I told her all of that. I laid bare my soul so she could reach out and take it for her own and she rejected me for this boy she was dating. She loved me but she loved him too. I was so fucking mad at her for making me confront all these pent up feelings only to have her do a total 180 and tell me she didn't want me. So we both dated guys and things got a little awkward between us. But then it became too much for me to not have her and I sang her another song, 'Songbird', the second I found out she broke up with Artie."
"I take it you have a special place for Fleetwood Mac," Kyle commented with a smile and Santana couldn't help but smile back with a nod.
"Definitely. I listened to 'Go Your Own Way' about a million times after Brittany chose Artie. The whole I'd give you everything but you won't take it felt pretty relevant to me at the time," Santana agreed before going back to her story. "Then she asked me to prom and I, being the coward I was back then, backed out and went with this gay guy I was dating at the time. Thankfully she didn't turn her back on me after that and we actually got a little better with our talking and stuff. We were back to normal but I was definitely not letting our, lets says special friendship, become public knowledge. The thought of people knowing and hating me for who I loved was still far too much to handle. So, we spent our summer between junior and senior year just being together privately. Sleepovers, camping trips, stolen touches under tables at restaurants.
"Senior year is when shit really hit the fan. I basically tumbled out of the closet face first thanks to a lovely little video campaign by an Ohio governor candidate who was going up against my then cheerleading coach. I was being a huge bitch to this kid Finn and he yelled down the hall at me that maybe I'd be nicer if I just came out of the closet. The governor candidates daughter overheard and told him. He used my face in an ad campaign to slander my cheerleading coach, saying she didn't value family because she had a gay head cheerleader. Those aired and everyone knew and I just had to sit there and let it happen. Thankfully my parents turned out to be totally supportive.
"Then I told my abuela and she was angry. She kicked me out of her house once I told her. I remember running all the way to Brittany's house and she just held me and let me cry until I couldn't cry anymore. Then she told me that no matter what happened I'd always have a home with her. No matter how many people hated me for something I couldn't control she'd always love me and be there to hold my hand when things got tough because that's what people do when they love each other. Any time I needed someone next to me it'd be her, anytime I needed help with anything I could go to her and she'd make it better. I promised right back."
Santana sighed and looked down at her hands, which were firmly grasping her knees. She looked up and saw Kyle's soft, encouraging smile and soft brown eyes gazing kindly back at her, waiting for her to feel comfortable to continue.
"But yeah everything was fine after that. My mom talked to my abuela and she came around. By the time I left for college all the people who really mattered knew my deepest secret and me and Brittany were open and happy together. We moved to New York with our best friends and went to school. Everything was perfect in the city of dreams and we just enjoyed life. We worked our asses off between school and shitty jobs but we couldn't have been happier because we did it together.
"Then one day we were fooling around," Santana blushed and ducked her head. "I was you know, feeling her up a bit, and I felt something. It was nothing I'd ever felt before and I had felt Brittany enough to know what did and did not belong. This did not belong so I told her she had to see a doctor. The doctor did a biopsy just to be safe and for some reason we thought that was the end of it. But then we got this phone call a few weeks later and it wasn't nothing. It was cancer and it was a lot further along than they could have ever anticipated. They were willing to try all the chemo and radiation but they were pretty skeptical. I promised her that everything would be okay and that I'd keep her safe.
"Turns outs they were right to be skeptical though, because we did it all and she never got better," Santana sighed and dabbed at her eyes with another tissue. "Eventually we found out she only had a few months left and that they'd try and give her medication to make everything easier but she was in for a fast decline. At first I would take her out and try to do all sorts of fun stuff with her but pretty soon she got to frail for that stuff so we would just stay at home and do stuff there. I always put on a happy face for her but it killed me to see her getting smaller and smaller everyday. It was literally like watching a fireplace burn out; one minute she's bright and filled with warmth and before I knew it she was burnt out and everything was cold."
"It must've been hard, staying strong for her," Kyle said. "It takes a special kind of person to be able to put their own hurt, especially of the magnitude I'm sure yours was and is, aside for someone else's sake."
"Hardest thing I've ever done. Hell I thought being a closted lesbian in Lima, Ohio was hard but that shit really took the cake," Santana laughed grimly before growing solemn again. "But I did slip up once."
"Tell me about that," Kyle requested gently.
"One night I walked into our bedroom and she was laying in our bed with her eyes closed but not asleep. I just stood there and watched her and thought about how she used to take up so much more space. I mean, Brittany was a dancer so she was always trim and fit but this was insane. She used to have muscle on her and now she was just skin and bones. I still thought she was beautiful but that was the first time I noticed that she wasn't radiant anymore, the glow was gone.
"So, I started crying and I tried to leave the room before she heard but nothing ever gets by Brittany," Santana smiles fondly at the thought. "She called me to the bed and for the first time in months she was the one who held me and kept me safe. When I was done she asked why I was said and I said you know why I'm said. She asked me why I was crying about it if she hadn't even cried about it yet."
"She never got upset?" Kyle asked in suprise. "I must say that that's quite the feat. Most people, no matter how strong they are and how much they want to enjoy their last days, would break down at least once."
"Well she did, she just hadn't yet at that point," Santana explained before getting back to her story. "I just told her that I couldn't imagine life without her and that I didn't know what to do when she was gone. She told me to be happy because she couldn't die happy if she knew that the person she loved was going to more or less die along with her. I promised her I wouldn't and put my brave face back on. That was the last time I ever cried in front of her."
"Brave face," Kyle said. "Meaning you weren't truly at peace with what was happening?"
"Hell no," Santana deadpanned. "A pretty significant part of me died along with her."
"And that's why we're here today," Kyle stated.
"Partly," Santana said with a firm nod.
"The other part is feeling like you broke promises," he continued. "A few times you mentioned that you made her promises about keeping her safe. You feel like you never did that."
"Yeah," Santana murmured and looked down. Now that the story telling part was over it was time to tackle the tough issues and she was fighting to keep herself from shutting down.
"What about betrayal?" Kyle asked.
"What do you mean?" Santana asked back, once again resorting to not making eye contact.
"A lot of people have trouble moving on when their partner dies because it means that they get to move on while the other person can't," Kyle explained. "The thought of being with another person still makes you feel as though you'd be cheating on Brittany."
"Definitely," Santana says with a sigh. "I mean, I've gotten to the point where I want to move on on my own but I just can't."
"Well that's definitely a good accomplishment in itself. Recognizing that it's okay to move on is half the battle, granted though it is the easy half. Now you just need to take the stepping from knowing it's okay to move on to feeling like it's okay to move on," Kyle elaborated.
"Makes sense," Santana said with a nod, trying to contribute at least a little to keep herself at least a little open.
"So to me our list of things to do are this;" Kyle began. "Feel like it's okay to move on, deal with the guilt of feeling like you couldn't protect Brittany, and nourishing your livelyhood so you can be happy. Sound right to you?"
"Sounds right," Santana said.
"Well our hour is up so why don't you come back in two days and we'll start tackling the really hard stuff," Kyle said as he stood up from the couch and walked over to his desk.
"Okay, I'll be here," Santana agreed as she headed towards the door.
"Oh and here's a little homework assignment," Kyle said as he sat back down and slipped his glasses back on. "Think about what Brittany would say to you if she knew how you were feeling about all of this."
"Will do, Kyle. Thank you," Santana said with a polite smile and a nod then exited his office and returned to the waiting room where Kurt still had his nose buried in the same magazine.
"Would you like me to email you a reminder for your next appointment Ms Lopez?" The chirpy secretary asked, making Kurt look up and realize that Santana had come out.
"No thanks, I'll remember," Santana declined as she made her way over to the door and signalled for Kurt to come. She knew that therapy was going to be good for her but it was a lot to deal with and she was ready to get the hell out of there. An hour of dealing with personal demons is enough to make anyone seriously need some fresh air. Well, as fresh as New York city air could be.
"Slow down, Santana!" Kurt called as he jogged after Santana, who had already made her way half-way down the block.
"Sorry," she said, slowing her pace and falling into step with Kurt. "I'm not running away from this, just so you know. It was just a lot in a short period of time and I need to put some space between it and myself."
"I figured, seeing as you have another appointment," Kurt said, tightening his coat around his shoulders as a harsh gust of wind blew by. "How was it though? I get if you don't want to talk about it but I'd like to know if you think it's a good fit."
"It was good, hard but good," Santana sighed. "I need it and Kyle's a nice guy. Part of the reason I was so reluctant and put off therapy so long is because I have these preconceived notions of these suit and tie kind of doctors who scribble down every word you say for analysis in some creepy leatherbound book. But it wasn't like that at all, it was as comfortable as a situation like that could get."
"I'm glad," Kurt said, deciding that it was time for a subject change. "How about an early dinner? I can call Blaine and have him meet us at that italian place you like."
"Yeah," Santana nodded, now realizing just how hungry she really was. Apparently therapy works up quite the appetite. "Sounds perfect."