Me again :D Hope you're still excited to see what happens with Brittana now. For all the new-comers, this is a Sequel to another story 'what i didn't know', but i guess you already know that :) to all my old readers (old as in loayl, not elderly :D) welcome back and i'm so happy and humbled that you still want to read my writing.

I hope you enjoy it.

Chapter 2

It was silent in the car as we sat parked in front of Brittany's house.

The only sounds were the low rumbling of the engine and the constant hum as hot air blew from the little grids to keep us warm.

Thankfully it hadn't taken a lot to convince my dad to at least let me drive Brittany home. As we neared the end of December it was dark already, after all, and no girl should ever walk home alone in the dark.

I shifted in my seat and drew my right leg onto the warm leather. I looked at Brittany for the first time since we had gotten into the car after I had tried to explain everything to her. She hadn't said much and her expression hadn't given away any of the feelings I suspected had to be roaring deep inside her right now.

I probably hadn't done a very good job at explaining to her why she couldn't stay over tonight and why we wouldn't be able to go to my place for a while. At least I felt like nothing I had said would be good enough to make it clear that none of this was in any way her fault or because somebody didn't like her.

But then again, Brittany often seemed to understand these things way quicker and better than I did. I just didn't know.

Her face was half hidden as the small, yellowish ceiling light cast eerie, elongated shadows everywhere around us.

A sudden need to protect her, to cradle her against my chest overwhelmed me and I took a breath to stay calm.

"What are you thinking?" I asked into the quiet. My voice was hushed but it still seemed loud to me. Brittany turned her head and looked at me with those soulful, blue orbs.

"I'm thinking about Boxing Day." She answered in the same, quiet tone.

My eyebrows arched and my tense fist relaxed next to my leg. "Boxing Day?"

A smile appeared on her face. "Well, yeah. I mean, that's why I wanted you to tell them in the first place, remember? So we could spend Boxing Day together."

My heart almost ached at the purity and innocence that shone on Brittany's face. Her voice was so carefree, how could I tell her?

"Britt…" I drew my lower lip into my mouth and looked down at my hands as I searched for the right words. But there weren't any. Just the simple, sucky truth. "I don't think I'll be able to spend Boxing Day with you." I said carefully, raising my gaze to see her reaction. Her brows furrowed.

"Why? Now that your parents know about us, I can tell my parents and then they won't wonder why I would want to spend the day after Christmas with you." She smiled brightly. To her it must have seemed like I just didn't understand and she was eager to tell me the good news.

Such joy and happiness was in her hopeful words, that I felt painfully close to tears at having to crush that simple dream.

My smile was sad as I reached over and took her left hand with my right one. "I'm sorry, Britt-Britt, but…" I swallowed against the heaviness in my chest. "I don't think my mum will allow me to."

Her face fell and my heart along with it. "Oh." She looked down at our twined fingers in the middle between our seats. "Right." The silence that followed threatened to crush me and I had to break it to breathe.

"I'm so sorry, B. You know I would love nothing more than to see you on Boxing Day, see you every day, but she…this is something we have to deal with for now, okay? But I promise I won't let her keep us apart. I promise." I laid all my strength and all my heart into those words because she had to know how true they were. I squeezed her hand and she met my eyes.

As the light illuminated her face once again, I saw a single tear run down her left cheek. "Oh, babe…" The term of endearment, though still new and rare, came effortlessly from my lips, and I felt a tingle in my stomach as hers eyes sparkled a second when I said it.

Quickly, I leaned forward and kissed the tear away. The salty taste vanished as I brushed my lips over hers in a chaste kiss.

My hand came up to cup her cheek as another one rolled down, and this time I let my thumb brush away the little drop.

"I'm so sorry." I whispered, resting my forehead against hers. Her warm, smooth skin rubbed against mine as she lightly shook her head.

"No, no it's okay. It's not your fault. I just forgot…" her trembling voice trailed away.

I understood. One of the things I loved so much about Brittany was that she never dwelled too long on the things that made her sad. In my eyes it was an incredible strength that Brittany was able to focus on the good things in her life the way she did.

So much so sometimes, that she forgot about the burdens and barriers and pain. For her there were much more possibilities than there were reasons why she shouldn't do something and every time I explained why a door was closed she showed me ten open windows.

But this time there were no open windows. This time there was just the hope that it would get better and I was happy to be the one to remind her of that for once.

"It'll be okay. She'll get over it and then you won't be able to get rid of me." I grinned wistfully as I leaned back to look into her eyes. My left hand stroked over her curly hair and my heart leapt as she smiled back.

"I won't want to." She said in nothing but a whisper, and her eyes were so honest and her voice so fragile, that my breath caught in my throat as my pulse sped up.

I kissed her again. A slow, meaningful kiss, that reassured me as much as her. And when our lips parted a little bit of that hope had been restored and her eyes seemed just that much brighter.

"We'll text and we'll talk on the phone and I'll get someone to bring you your present." I vowed, pulling her hand into my lap as my fingers tightened around it. Her eyes sparkled with amusement and she quickly gave me another peck.

"I don't want you to have someone else bring me your present." She said in a deep voice, her lips hovering over mine. "I want to exchange presents together. Besides, mine kind of requires you to be there."

I swallowed and my left eyebrow rose, intrigued. "Oh, really?" I hadn't even meant for my voice to sound as seductive, but I guess that was an understandable response.

Brittany just grinned and nodded, leaning back a little.

"Well then I insist that we do the gift thing just between the two of us."

She nodded again, more vigorously. "But we can still text and talk on the phone and things, right?" A warmth spread through me as I smiled slowly. Having Brittany want me would never seize to amaze and humble me.

"Of course. Like I could go a day without talking to you." I rolled my eyes playfully and then grinned relieved as she giggled and then smiled happily at me.

Once again I noticed that making Brittany smile was one of my favorite things to do.

When I got home I shut the heavy front door quietly behind me after stomping off the little bit off snow that had gathered on my boots onto the mat on the porch. I carefully hung up my coat and unwound my scarf. The hallway was quite dark, only sparsely illuminated by the soft light that came from the living room through the doorless kitchen, and I blindly draped the damp woolen scarf over the radiator behind the little cupboard in the hallway.

Then I halted in my movements, straining to hear whose voices I could make out in the living room. Should I go upstairs? Should I just sneak into my room and pretend to be asleep to avoid talking to my mum? I she even home yet?

I took a few steps towards the stairs, but as soon as my hand had gripped the banister to quickly haul me up the carpeted flight of stairs and into the solitary confinement of my bedroom, the light flickered and I saw the dark shape of a person coming through the kitchen.

Glancing longingly upstairs, I was convinced my plan wouldn't go through, and as I heard my father speak, my prediction was confirmed.

"There you are." His voice was quiet, fitting the atmosphere and the lateness of the hour. It must have been around eleven by now.

"Hey." I said shortly. He halted a few feet away from me in the doorway to the kitchen. I knew that my tone had been curt, but I couldn't help it. I wasn't angry at my dad, just tense.

"Did you get her home safely?" he asked unnecessarily. Well, obviously!

I bit back the annoyed retort. Sensing that I'd be asked to talk to my mother any moment now was making me nervous and aggressive. But I didn't want to push my dad away as well, so I did my best to rein in my temper.

"Yeah."

He nodded. "Good. That's good." I took my hand off the banister and came down the few steps I had already climbed.

"Mum's home, isn't she." It wasn't so much a question than a resigned statement. I glanced to the cloak-rack and nodded to myself as her still wet winter coat confirmed it before my dad could even say anything.

"Julio and Carmen have gone to bed. I think it's time for a little family talk." My dad said softly. I drew in a slow breath and then turned to him. Walking past him I swallowed down my uneasiness.

As we walked towards the living room together, his hand shortly came to rest on my shoulder and he squeezed it reassuringly. My stomach settled infinitesimally and I prepared myself mentally for whatever my mother was about to say to me.

This moment could very well become the changing point in my life. The moment that decided what relationship my mum and I would have in the future and I felt my heart race as I stepped over the wooden threshold that separated the kitchen from the warm living room.

My mother was sitting with her back to me on the big sofa in the middle of the living room, facing the fireplace where my dad had ignited a fire just before Brittany and I had left. By now it had spread a welcoming warmth all throughout the living room and its flickering glow could have lulled my tired body into a cozy state of relaxation hadn't I been so tense and apprehensive inside.

Wordlessly, I circled around the couch, my dad right behind me, until I could let myself sink into the other couch that stood in a ninety degree angle to the one my mother was sitting on.

I didn't look at her until I had sat down. My mum's face glowed in dark, warm colors as the only sources of light were the quietly rumbling fire and a big, old-fashioned floor lamp to my mum's left.

She was staring blankly at a spot on the coffee table in front of her, her hands folded in her lap. She only blinked when my dad sat down next to her and the sofa shifted a little. He caringly covered her small hands with his left, which was big enough to enclose both of hers.

"Mi amor, hable con ella." He said gently to her.

My mother stared for another few seconds before she gave a small jerk, seemingly ripping herself away from her inner thoughts with great effort. Her eyes slowly lifted up to meet mine.

I wished I could read people like Brittany was able to, but as I could hardly make out her eye color, let alone anything more specific, it probably wouldn't have mattered anyway.

"How long have you kept this from us?" Even though I had expected her to speak, actually hearing her voice startled me and I twitched involuntarily. Maybe a small part of me had already given up that she would ever talk to me again. I didn't know what to feel.

"I…" This was not the time to stammer. Come on! You can do this!

"That depends on what you mean." I said carefully. I was happy that my voice didn't show any of the anxiousness I felt inside. It was strong and clear. I hoped my words would be too.

At the moment they seemed to anger my mother however. A muscle in her jaw twitched as she clenched her teeth together before clarifying it to me indignantly.

"I mean," she almost growled. "Since when have you been lying to us?" I was about to protest but my mum pushed on, her body rigid as she leaned forward, her eyes glinting. "Since when have you been this way? Since when have you-"she broke off abruptly and pressed back against the back of the couch as if trying to create distance between herself and something disgusting. Me.

My chest constricted as I had to work to keep the tears a bay. I couldn't get emotional now. I had known she could react like that. Had feared it probably most of my life, somewhere deep inside. I had to power through now or else I feared I wouldn't have another chance to make her understand.

"You mean how long have I been gay?" I asked bluntly, ignoring my mother's flinch as if someone had poured something hot against her. "Or are you asking since when have I known that I am gay. Or do you wanna know since when I've been with Brittany?" I went on, my own fury at the world slowly increasing until it flickered just beneath the surface, almost palpable.

How can she be so ignorant? Why can't I have it easy like everyone else? And why the fuck can't she just fucking love me the way a mother is supposed to love her child?!

I bit my teeth together and scooted to the edge of the couch, my eyes never leaving her face.

"Well, let's see mum. I've probably been gay my entire life. If I'm being really honest with myself I've had suspicions about it since around the time I met Brittany, which should answer the third question I guess. I've been in love with Brittany since the day I met her." my rant softened and there was an urgency in my voice that made it sound strained and rough. She needed to understand this part. This part was crucial. It was the most important thing about all of this, because she was my whole world. Brittany.

My mum had looked away from me the second I had started talking and still apparently couldn't bring herself to look at her daughter. She was frozen against the soft leather of the couch, my dad watching her silently as I went on.

"I've loved Brittany forever, mum, but I've only just realized it." I leaned forward, my elbows coming to rest on my knees and my hands clasping to each other. "I've only just let myself realize it, because I almost lost her and I couldn't have handled that. But, I've been denying it for so long, because I was scared, mum, so scared. I was scared what everybody would think of me, what they would say behind my back and that I might be bullied or threatened or-" my voice broke, and I felt tears stream down my face.

My dad was staring at me now, his face stony and tense and I thought I saw something wet on his cheek. He's so angry…

My dad was rarely furious, but right at that moment I could almost feel his hot anger blazing from his body. Anger and pain. He was angry because I was telling him his daughter had been scared and he never wanted me to be scared. And he hadn't been able to help me. But now he was.

It was my dad's silent compassion and support that gave me the strength to go on. Facing my mother again, who still hadn't moved except for the pained expression on her face, I continued in a calmer voice.

"I was scared because everybody knows there are people in the world who hate people like me. Who treats us horribly and who make us hurt. Hell, I even acted like one of them not too long ago and I'm so disgusted by myself for that. But back then I couldn't think of any other way to protect myself. To protect what I was feeling inside from being detected, from being seen and destroyed by their hate. And once I had sort of figured out how I felt about Brittany all of it, all of this hate that was awaiting me out there, us out there, scared the shit out of me. It scared me so much that I hurt the one person I wanted to protect the most. I was so confused and scared and felt so alone and I pushed Brittany away over and over until it seemed she wouldn't come back. That was when it just came out. It just overwhelmed me, this…this feeling," I shook my hands in front of me, frantic to find the right words to describe what had happened the night after Brittany and I had fought at her house. The night I had found the note.

"It just washed over me and it was more powerful than anything I had ever felt. Mum, it's love. I know it is. I love her so much and it killed me when I thought I had lost her for good." The tears were running relentlessly now, but I didn't bother to wipe them away. Instead a smile crept onto my face. "But she forgave me. She forgave me and took me back, despite everything. Because Brittany is…"

I laughed freely as all my pain and fear disappeared just from thinking about her.

"Brittany is a genius. And she knew way before I did that I loved her. Mum, I wish you could understand! I wish you knew Brittany like I do, because then you would be begging me to keep her. Begging me to never let her go, because she's amazing, mum, she's so amazing and she makes so, so happy." I sniffed and another small laugh escaped me, sounding like a sob.

As my eyes shifted from my mum to my dad, my heart swelled at the sight of him. My dad, my strong, tall, manly dad was wiping away his tears and beaming at me like I had just told him I had saved the world. He looked so proud and so happy that another sob wrenched through me, shaking my body.

I noticed her shift then, my mum, and finally her eyes met mine again. We locked in on each other and then she was crying as well. Her brows were furrowed deep and her lips thin, quivering lines.

As my own lower lip started to tremble I bit down on it. "Mum? Please say something. Please!"

Her head began to shake and when she finally spoke her accent was thicker than I had heard it in a long, long time. "I can't. Santana, I can't tell you that I am happy about this. It's not right. This isn't how I raised you. Santana, please…" her voice grew louder, stronger and she leaned forward, grabbing my wrist desperately, her eyes wild. "Don't do this!"

I gasped as pain flooded through me anew.

"Maria…" my dad addressed her softly, his voice rough but steady as his hand came to rest on her shoulder from behind. But she pushed it away as she focused on me, gripping my other wrist as well.

I felt so helpless with my mother staring at me with desperate eyes, my arms bound by her deadly grasp.

"Mija! Mi dulce hija, don't do this to us." She pulled me closer and pushed a strand of my hair behind my ear with shaking fingers as her eyes searched mine. Beseeching, begging.

I pressed my lips together as hard as I could to contain the strangling howl that wanted to escape me from deep within. Stifled sobs were shaking my entire body as I stared right back at my mother who was trying with all that she had to convince me to change. To be anyone but me.

"Mamì…" I whimpered, my throat throbbing painfully. "Mamì, please don't. P-please don't be like them." My face contorted and the image of my mother swam in front of my eyes as my tears spilled over without end. "Please don't be like them! I need you to n-not be like the ones I was afraid of. You can't be! You're my mum! I need you to not be them, please!" I was begging but I didn't care.

I was losing my mother. She was slipping away from me right before my eyes and I felt the overpowering, instinctual need to be closer to her. Be protected by her. Make her love me again. Me. Not the version of me she wanted me to be.

Her head sank onto our hands and her shoulders shook.

"Maria, don't. Maria, por favor." My dad urged her, his face morose as he watched my mother cry. Cry for me.

Suddenly she let go of me and turned into my dad's arms, hiding her face from me as she sobbed.

He reflexively curled his arms around her while murmuring frantic things in Spanish against the top of her head.

Somewhere through the numbing haze that had befallen me since my mother had cried onto my hands, as I had felt her lips move against the skin of my wrists with whispered prayers, I gathered that he was telling her to tell me she loved me. She didn't. She didn't say anything. She just wept for her lost daughter.

I stood up. My body felt foreign, like it wasn't even mine. "Santana. Santana." My dad's anxious voice carried to me over my mother's continuing crying. I wasn't crying anymore. I didn't think I was, anyway, but it all felt so far away and unreal that I wasn't sure.

A hand grabbed my forearm as I took a step forward. A tug. A curse.

I looked down at him. He was holding her against his chest with one arm, while the other held me in place. His eyes. His eyes were scared. He was in pain. They were big too. He was desperate.

"Santana! Santana, no. She's upset." He hushed in a pleading whisper. "I love you! Do you hear me? We love you! Both of us. Don't…." he shook his head. "Don't…"

As my dad stumbled for words a sudden wave of pain came crushing through the numbness and I gasped for air as it drowned my lungs. I drew in painful, ragged breaths as I stood there, my dad still holding me in place, with my mother in between us, pressing against his chest.

Her sobs had subsided and now the only thing I could hear was the blood rushing in my ears and the raspy gasps that were still slicing my throat. I was starting to feel dizzy and somewhere in my brain it registered that I was close to hyperventilating. I struggled to calm myself down.

"Santana, mi amor, mi corazòn." My dad soothed. His voice was strong now, but gentle, and his grip loosened enough so he could lightly stroke my forearm. My breathing eased and I could feel the oxygen rushing in again, mingling with the pain that had made my body its home now.

"It's going to be okay." He looked down at my mother and stroked her hair as well. Her lips were moving again and her eyes were pressed closed as she clung to his shirt. "It's all going to be okay."

I stood there, unmoving with my dad's soothing words and caress tranquilizing me, for another eternity until time started up again and my mum stirred. She stood up stiffly, forcing my dad to let go of me to let her get up, and then turned to me.

She didn't look at me directly, but just before she passed, she drew my head against her chest. I could feel her tremble against my cheek as I let it happen, petrified.

She cupped my neck and then her lips were pressing against my temple. The kiss was everywhere. It reached a place in me that had shut down and I wondered briefly if I was dreaming all of this, because how could I feel so much and so little at the same time?

Before I could fight my stupor and react she had already let go of me and in another blink she was gone.

A strange sound fled through my trembling lips and my dad stood up just in time and gathered me into his arms, as my legs began to shake. It was all too much. All too much and now crippling hope was climbing up my feet, clawing its way inside to steal my breath and imprison my heart.

"Shh, shh, you're okay. Oh, my love, everything's gonna be just fine." He rocked me gently until I was calm again. Calm and heavy. I was so tired, so exhausted, I just wanted to sleep.

When I yawned against his shirt, my dad chuckled – a deep rumble in his chest, that stirred a familiar, protected feeling in mine – and lightly pushed me away by my upper arms. Only far enough though, so he could look into my drooping eyes.

"She'll come around. It might take a while longer than we thought, but she'll come around." He assured me in his deep voice. I just nodded. Because I was tired, because I couldn't talk any more, and because I wanted to believe him so badly.

He hummed and pressed a firm kiss against my forehead. "Come on, cariño." He gently guided me through the living room, the kitchen and then up the stairs into my bedroom.

When I crawled into bed, completely worn out and every limb hurting like I had run a marathon, he smiled at me from the doorway like he used to when he would tug me in as a child, his face cast in shadows as my room remained dark.

"I love you with all my heart, Santana."

"I love you too, daddy." I mumbled, before sleep mercifully overpowered me.

Shadows were playing over the ceiling.

I had woken up around five a.m., my heart thundering and my cheeks still wet from the tears I had cried in my sleep as horrible nightmares had ridden my unconscious. The blinding darkness had been a welcome protection from my dreadful fantasies, sobering me into awareness as my dream-images had slowly slipped away.

But soon my eyes had adjusted and the outlines and shadows in my room had been a poor distraction from my wandering mind, that was insistent on replaying the previous day's events over and over before my inner eye in a cruel and endless loop.

I had started tracing the shadows on my ceiling like I had done as a kid, but they were moving too fast. Outside my window a furious wind had picked up and was whooshing powerfully back and forth, whipping and bending the trees in our yard to its will, casting ghostlike and restless shapes against the walls and ceiling.

I flinched as a branch slammed against my window with a loud crack and my eyes jerked over to it reflexively.

The curtains were open and I could see as snowflakes were being hauled into the air only to pummel down in a dizzying spiral before being swept up again and blown to one side and then the other.

Watching them warily, I felt a strange kind of compassionate connection with the little white flecks of winter. The strong powers of the wind were ruthless and cold and controlling, and the helpless snowflakes had no way to escape as they were being thrown about in the dark night.

I shivered and pulled my duvet over my head with my numb arms until only my face remained uncovered. Rolling onto my side and drawing my knees up towards my chin I watched the humorless play of the wind, trying to rid my mind of anything that would let this continuing ache persist.

Of course it was no use. Nothing could be powerful enough to chase away this throbbing emptiness inside me that my mother had left when she had looked at me that way, had pleaded for me to change who I was.

That kiss though. She had pulled me close to her and kissed my temple and that made everything that much more confusing and scary. Because now I didn't know how to not hope for her to come around.

And what if she didn't? I wanted my dad and Brittany to be right so much. Needed them to, but what if they weren't? Then the hope I was harboring deep inside me now because of my mum's parting embrace would destroy me, I knew it would.

I breathed a heavy sigh. Nothing could distract me from that pain.

Something buzzed close by, loud enough to startle me, and a brightness illuminated the space next to me. Quickly, I realized it was my phone that was vibrating on the night desk where I had left it when I had changed into my dress what felt like a life-time ago.

Grabbing for it, I sat up against the headboard and answered. I didn't need to look who it was even though I couldn't hear the ring tone as my phone was on mute.

"Hey." I whispered into my cell. My voice was raspy and quiet from all the crying and sleep, but I didn't care.

"Hey." As soon as I heard Brittany's hushed words, a soothing warmth spread through my body and I drew in a shaky breath as I let my head fall back against the wood and closed my eyes. "Did I wake you?"

My lips felt stiff as they formed a small smile. It felt like I hadn't smiled in years and the concept was strange to my facial muscles now.

"No. I was awake." And even if I weren't- I'd always want you to wake me. I wanted to say those words to her, but I needed to hear her voice again more. Suddenly it felt like I had been starving for ever and she was my only chance of survival, her voice my only source of nourishment. No, I couldn't talk now and waste another minute before hearing her voice again. There'd be enough time to tell her all the things I wanted her to know. Later.

She spoke again and my soul and body purred, basking in the sweetness of Brittany's soft voice.

"I couldn't sleep. I woke up like half an hour ago and then I couldn't sleep anymore. At first Lord Tubbington cuddled with me, but he got annoyed when I started telling him about the time when you and Quinn and Rachel and I got locked into the mall. I think he just wanted to sleep and I was kinda distracting him. He just left and now I'm calling you, because…well, because I wanted to."

I had been wrong. There was something that could make me forget about everything else. Brittany. The pain, the uncertainty, the fear, they were gone and all that remained was happiness and comfort and joy. "San? You still there?"

I cleared my throat and nodded even though she couldn't see it. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm still here, Britt."

"You sure I didn't wake you? Cause I always get very quiet and distracted when someone just woke me, too." I heard something shift at the other end of the line and then her breathing sounded closer.

"Nah, I couldn't sleep either. Been awake for a while now." I said quietly into the phone. It was still early and I didn't want to wake my parents, or my other relatives.

"Oh." There was a pause when neither of us seemed to know what to say, but the silence wasn't uncomfortable. I shimmied down the headboard until I lay only slightly propped up on my pillow.

"I miss you." I whispered into the quiet and hoped that it had been loud enough for Brittany to hear because I didn't want to have to repeat it. Suddenly I felt a little vulnerable and I wished so much that she was lying next to me and I could cuddle into her chest for comfort.

My heart sped up and several beats passed before she whispered back, "I miss you, too." A lonely, but happy smile spread across my face and I swallowed down the upcoming tears. I had cried enough tonight.

"I wanna make you feel better, but I don't know how." Brittany's tiny voice carried through to me.

"Huh? Wh-"

"You're sad. And I wanna make you feel better, but I don't know how, because you're, like, not here but I am, so…" the regretful tone made my breath falter. I clutched the phone harder to my ear. Anything to have her closer to me.

My heart swelled. How the fuck did I score the most amazing, most caring girlfriend in the whole wide world?!

"Aw, babe. I wish you were here, too." I bit my lower lip and closed my eyes again, imagining her next to me. If only I could wrap my arms around her, drape my leg over her hips, nuzzle into her neck. With her I always felt so safe and content. I just wanted her here so badly.

"I like that."

"Like what?" I asked.

"When you call me sweet names." She said and I saw her shy smile before my inner eye. The image and her words made my heart race and I swore to only ever call her by sweet names from now on, just to keep this feeling forever. Just to make her feel loved.

"I like it, too." I gave back quietly.

I wondered if I would call her 'babe' in front of our friends, but didn't want to spend too much time thinking about things like being couple-y in front of others or admitting to loving Brittany in a crowd. I wasn't ashamed or anything like that, I just still shied away from it because you never know who might react badly. I didn't want to be insulted and belittled, but even more I didn't want Brittany to have to suffer through it.

So that's why I tried not to think about situations of that kind. They always made me queasy and I couldn't know or change what happened until I came into one like that anyway. Before now, whenever Britt and I had been with friends since we had gotten together, like at Puck's or at Tina's birthday party, we had been staying close together for most of the time and had even held hands and shared a little kiss every now and then, but I didn't remember calling her any endearing names. I tried to recall if I had consciously avoided them, but didn't think so.

"Is your mum okay?" Brittany's voice brought me back to the present. She almost sounded shy and immediately a pang of anger and sadness rushed through me, as sudden as a gunshot, and I fisted the top of my duvet into a bunch with my right hand.

I didn't understand how my mum could do this to me. To us. If I told Brittany how my mum had tried to convince me to change my mind she would be so upset and sad and probably think it was because of something she did. But it wasn't.

On the contrary, Brittany was doing everything right. She was being sweet and loving and caring and she had even been so polite and honest with my mum even though she hadn't exactly returned the favor. And now Brittany was still asking whether my mum was okay, because that was just the kind of person she was. My mum had not once asked how Brittany felt in all this. She had only winced and flinched when I had told her how much I loved Brittany. Unlike my girlfriend, my mum just didn't seem to care.

Brittany deserved better from her. I deserved better.

My anger had made my entire body tense and I found myself sitting upright in my bed, my warm duvet having slipped down to my waist.

"She's fine." I growled, unable to keep the resentment out of my words. "She's…" but there weren't any words for what she was. Or at least I couldn't find the appropriate ones to describe what she was to me right now. Maybe that was partly, because I wasn't sure anymore how exactly I felt about her.

"You talked, didn't you." Brittany said softly. It wasn't a question and I didn't answer, waiting for the boiling storm inside of me to calm down. "Is she mad at me?"

"What?! Of course not! Why would she be mad at you?" I asked perplexed, getting the feeling I was completely missing the point. Brittany hesitated. "Britt?"

"I…well, she doesn't want me to be your girlfriend, that's why you're sad, right?" she asked and I could practically hear her gnawing her lower lip or maybe the nail of her thumb.

"No! Well, yeah, but that has nothing to do with you." I said tensely. She shouldn't think like that! She shouldn't have to think like that. God, mum, if you only knew how much pain you're causing …

In this moment I was pretty sure I hated my mum, but the overwhelming need to comfort Brittany drowned out any other feeling.

"Britt, sweetie, this is not your fault, do you hear me? This is…it's her. She doesn't understand. She doesn't get what you and I have together. Maybe she doesn't want to understand or she really can't see it, but that's her problem and certainly not your fault." I tilted my head. Pictures of Brittany, sitting at home, alone in her bed with a shy and sad expression on her face, came flooding into my mind and made my body ache to run to her, comfort her and make her smile.

"B, you're amazing. You are beautiful, funny, smart and unique and ten million other breathtaking things. You're the best girlfriend anyone could ever ask for and if she can't see that, then screw her!" conviction strengthened my voice. "I love you, Britt, and nothing's gonna change that. Not her, not some punk talking shit at us from across the street,not anything!" I vowed, my heart beating proudly and my chin set.

I wouldn't lose her again and I wouldn't let anything hurt her either.

I heard sniffles on the other end of the phone and my stomach tightened. "Britt-Britt? You okay?" I spoke softly into the phone that was by now hot against my ear. I strained to listen for anything that she might mumble and jerked violently, giving a little cry, as the wind whipped another branch harshly against my window with a heart-attack inducing smack.

My outcry apparently alarmed Brittany, because her sniffles stopped aprubtly.

"What's wrong? San? What happened?"

Heart racing, I pressed my free hand against my chest and swallowed down the breath that had gotten stuck in my throat. "Jesus!" I muttered, trying to get my breathing back to normal.

"San, what is it?" Brittany sounded concerned and highly alert.

"Nothing, B, just the damn wind keeps smacking branches and shit into my window and it's loud as fuck." I grumbled. To my surprise laughter erupted at the other end and I frowned. "What? What's so funny about me almost having a heart-attack?" I asked, slightly testily, but not really offended.

Obviously trying to stifle her laughter, Brittany spluttered, "S-sorry. You just sounded like someone had tried to grab you or something but it was just the wind saying 'hi' at your window."

"Whatever! It sounded scary and I was totally not prepared for it!" I defended myself, crossing my right arm under the other elbow, supporting the hand holding my phone, and leaned back against the headboard. I reached around to adjust my pillow against my back while I heard Brittany giggle quietly into the phone.

I smiled. This was what I had wanted. To make Brittany happy and carefree again. Man, I miss her! That is so stupid! I'm literally talking to her right now! Ugh…

After a few more moments the last of the light giggling died down and I heard Brittany sigh contently. "You sound tired. How 'bout you get some more sleep and we'll talk later?" I suggested, quiet happiness conjuring up a warm smile on my lips.

"But I'm not even ti-aaah" the rest of the word was swallowed up by a huge yawn and this time I was the one giggling joyously. I wished I could see her face at that moment. When Brittany yawned the cuteness was almost unbearable.

Her nose always wrinkled and her eyes were tiny and her eyebrows rose up as if she were completely surprised at what was happening to her and as if she were thinking 'hey, I didn't agree to do that!'. Or at least that was what I imagined a kitty version of Brittany to say, if kittens could talk.

What the hell?!

Quickly, I wiped the dopey smile off my face and looked around, irrationally checking if anyone had seen that, and frowned. I was not somebody who imagined their girlfriend to be a cute kitten! Especially not a kitten that could talk!

Get it the fuck together, Lopez! Ridiculous!

I shook my head, irritated with myself, and focused back on the phone. "Britt, you're obviously tired. Let's just talk later, kay? I don't want your parents to get all annoyed at you cause you can't help with Christmas decorations without yawning every two seconds. Besides, you promised Emily to go ice-skating with her tomorrow and you definitely need your strength for that." I added, reminding her of the promise Brittany's little sister had weaseled out of her on the last day of school.

Brittany and I had celebrated the beginning of Christmas break and the fact that Britt had gotten a C+ on the big maths test we had been studying for together with a bottle of cheap champagne in her room, when Emily had come bursting in, babbling something about mermaids on ships or something.

Being the smart little blackmailer she is, she immediately figured out we weren't drinking apple juice and more or less threatened to rat us out to Mrs Pierce if Brittany didn't agree to take her ice skating on Sunday, which was tomorrow.

Actually she had wanted the both of us to take her but I had made it quite clear that that wasn't going to happen. Ice skating wasn't my best sport and I was definitely not going to embarrass myself in front of Brittany's little sister. Once Emily had left, Brittany had asked me why I didn't want to go and when I had told her she had pointed out that I hadn't had any problem going roller skating with the entire Glee Club and that I hadn't been that bad at it either.

But what nobody got was that ice skating and roller skating are two completely different things. One is all fun and games and you just twirl around a little with four little wheel placed sensibly under each foot, whereas at ice skating you were balancing on a deadly sharp, knife-like blade on freezing cold, rock hard ice and if you fell down someone else could skate over your hand and slice your fingers off in no time. I'd rather not take that chance, thank you very much.

"Yeah, I guess. What are you gonna do?" Brittany asked me and I drew in a deep breath before checking the time on the alarm clock on my nightstand as I let it back out. It was almost seven. Soon my two little cousins would wake up and run around the house or something. And even if they weren't, going back to sleep seemed impossible to me. My mind was too full with all that had happened and all that was still going to happen and the only thing I really wanted to do was see Brittany but that would have to wait at least another four days if I understood my dad's hint correctly.

This sucked.

"I don't know. Try to go back to sleep too, I guess." I said half-heartedly. I was convinced it wouldn't work, but it didn't hurt to try and it's not like I had anything better to do. Actually I dreaded having to face my mum today. Even seeing my aunt and uncle might be more stressful than usual now. I couldn't imagine we would just have a normal Christmas with my big revelation and my mum's rejecting reaction hanging over all of our heads. I hoped that at least my little cousin's innocent and unknowing presence would lighten the mood for everyone.

"Okay. Well…" I heard the unasked question hovering over us as if she had actually finished it. 'When will I see you again?'. As longing and sadness spread through my body at the prospect of not seeing Brittany for so long because of something so unfair, determination settled on my face.

"Look," I turned my back to the window and grabbed my second pillow, pressing my body against it, one leg and arm drawing it closer as if it were a body. Brittany's body. "I don't know when I'll be able to escape this shit-hole, but I'll try, okay? I wanna see you, Britt and I already promised you I wouldn't let them keep us apart. I meant that. I still have my phone so I'll just text you a lot and call you and then I'll figure something out." I said decidedly.

"We."

"What?"

"We'll figure something out." Brittany corrected me gently. My Brittany-smile warmed me from the inside and I bit my lip as I nodded against the Brittany-substitute pillow. Brittany, Brittany, Brittany. Brittany and me. We were a 'we' now and suddenly everything didn't seem so bad anymore.

"Right. We."

"Okay." Another yawn. "I love you, Sanny." She mumbled cutely and I could tell she would soon fall back to sleep.

"I love you, too, Britt-Britt." I murmured contently, the happy smile firm in place on my lips.

After we had hung up I cradled the phone against my chest and closed my eyes. If I concentrated really hard I could still smell Brittany's scent on the pillow next to me from when we had taken a nap together yesterday afternoon before getting ready for the dinner.

Slowly I relaxed into the warm softness and before I knew it I was dreaming.

And how peaceful it was, dancing on the sparkling ice with Brittany, safely snuggled up against her chest, her heart beating a steady baseline to a song too beautiful to be real.

Something was bothering me. It was a noise that was too loud and too annoying and didn't fit in with the jazzy melody the saxophonist behind Brittany and my table was playing. I frowned and groaned as the sound became even louder and seemingly closer to my ear as well. I whipped my head to the side and swatted at where the giggling was coming from. I recognized it for what it was now, but suddenly everything around me started to blur and my annoyance mixed with fear as Brittany's smiling face started to drift away.

"Brittany!" I yelped as I jerked upright. A small figure flinched slightly next to me and a hand withdrew from my face, before the giggling turned into laughter. Children's laughter.

I slumped back into my bed and buried my face in the crook of my elbow.

"Whata ya doin' in'ere?" I mumbled grumpily as I felt one of my cousins jump onto the mattress next to my feet. My heart slowly calmed down after the initial shock of the unexpected wake-up call had passed.

"Estamos abburidos! We want to play with you." Marco said in his high voice, folding his arms over my blanket covered knees and resting his head on top of them. I glanced down from under my arm. He was gazing up at me with a big pout on his lips.

"Ugh, hell!" I groaned, letting my arm fall away from my face. "Fine, what do you wanna play?" I asked with an exasperated sigh. The two boys erupted in victory cries and I already began to regret my decision when they mercilessly pulled my warm, cozy blanket away from me and off the bed before jumping onto the mattress and bouncing around, only barely avoiding me most of the time.

As my body was being thrown up into the air by my cousins' joyous hopping, I closed my eyes for another moment to fully cut the cord to my dream world and prepare myself for the reality of today, before jolting upright again with a playful roar and leaping to catch their legs and make them fall over onto the soft mattress. Thankfully my bed was quite wide so I didn't have to fear too much that they might topple over the edge and hurt themselves. They squealed in delight and dashed away from me, hurdling over my body with seeming ease as if they could fly.

When Marco fell into a giggling fit which made him snort, after I lightly pinched his butt when he jumped by, Richie and I doubled over with laughter and for the next half hour or so the two little boys and me had the best time just being kids.

And that's chapter two.

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Spanish:

Mi amor, hable con ella – My love, talk to her

Mija! Mi dulce hija – Honey! My sweet daughter

Maria, por favor – Maria, please

Santana, mi amor, mi corazon – Santana, my love, my heart

Cariño – sweety/honey

Estamos abburidos – we're bored