AN: I do not own Glee, Adele or any copyrighted information mentioned. Just borrowing!
Mercedes breezed out of the studio right after Brittany, but not before giving Santana an apologetic look. Santana felt frozen in space, trying to make heads or tails of what had just happened. Not only did Brittany admit to still loving her, but she explained the whole Sam thing. While Santana was more than pleased to hear that Brittany had never been in love with Sam, it crushed her to hear Brittany's insecurities, her deep, repressed insecurities, were what held their relationship back.
These insecurities that Santana not only knew about, but that she knowingly played upon their sophomore and junior year. Telling Brittany it was okay to cheat on Artie because the plumbing was different. Santana knew that Brittany just went along with that because it meant she could still be with Santana, but they both knew better. Brittany knew that by playing dumb, Santana would still show her love behind closed doors. The fact that Santana played upon the blonde's emotions and insecurities ate away at her like nothing else. The guilt she felt from all the moments of telling Brittany that they were only making out because she needed a warm body beneath her, or to practice for boys, or because it would help them become more popular. When the real reason, all along, for all those years, was that Santana was undeniably and irrevocably in love with Brittany Pierce.
And Brittany was still in love with Santana.
Or she still loved Santana. The distinction wasn't made, but it was not a bad place to start.
Could all those years be forgotten? Could all the time apart prove good, and not horrifyingly awful? Were they really just meant to be together? Was it that simple?
The tattoo on her right pinky felt like it was burning with Brittany's touch.
Santana mechanically moved herself out of the studio, almost in a haze, and made her way down to the conference room to meet Mercedes.
When Santana opens the doors, she is met with Mercedes, John and Artie all waiting for her.
John and Artie were speaking animatedly in front of an iPad and Artie had a stylus out, making notes and flying through slides. Mercedes motions for Santana sit down before the men in the room take notice of her presence.
"Well, I'll be damned, Abrams" John says enthusiastically, "You really are as brilliant as Mercedes sold you! This is some really amazing stuff." John then looks up from the iPad and notices Santana, "And, there she is, the newest songbird of her generation. " John flashes his million dollar, used car salesman smile. Santana actually really likes John, but he had a tendency to really lay it on thick. "I have to admit SAntana, I wasn't so sure about the new direction for the tour, but after meeting with Mr. Abrams here, I think we are really going to make a statement.
Santana genuinely smiles at Artie for perhaps the first time since they met her sophomore year of high school. Interestingly enough, Santana always really liked Artie, until he started dating Brittany and even after he dated her. Artie was unapologetically himself. A dorky kid in a wheelchair, who loved soul music and comic books, who can kill a riff on a guitar and design a computer program. Santana admired his confidence in his true self. Something she had very little of.
"Well, Mercedes only brings on the best" Santana replied genuinely.
"That is certainly true" John agrees. "It's hard for me to believe that all these talented kids went to one high school. In Ohio of all places."
Santana scoffs, "We try really hard to forget where we come from, John. Plus, you haven't even met all of us. Rachel Berry, the Broadway star is also in mine and Cedes graduating class, Kurt Hummel of Vogue as well, and Sam Evans underwear model turned Buckeye offensive coordinator." Mercedes eyes haze at the mention of Sam.
John gives out a big belly laugh. "Truly incredible. Well, I hate to scurry out, but I have to go listen to this new kid out in Pasadena." He begins to collect his stuff "Mercedes, I will call you on the way back." Mercedes walks John out into the hall and it just leaves you and Artie.
"Look, Santana" Artie starts awkwardly, "I just want you to know that with the whole Brittany thing, and all of us working together…"
"Artie, you don't…" Santana starts.
"No, please" he responds "That is very, very much in my past. My time with Brittany was great, but it was high school you know. High school love. It wasn't real world love. It wasn't what you guys had." Santana blushes. "I am not here to win her back and would never try to. I am here because I really believe in your work and I believe even more in your story. I want to help bring in to life, and um, back to life."
Santana feels herself getting overwhelmed with all the talk, directly and indirectly about her and Brittany's life together.
"When did you get so passionate about love, Wheels?"
Artie blushes and looks down at his hands.
"Wait!" Santana barks. "You're in love aren't you?" Artie turns even redder if possible but doesn't answer. "Oh my god, it's Kitty isn't it?"
Artie just shrugs, "The distance is hard, but we have been together for almost three years now."
Santana shakes her head. She has really cut herself from everything high school, while inexplicably being so connected to it.
"That's really great, Artie. I am really happy for you" Santana said as genuinely as possible.
Artie gives her a sympathetic look, "Santana, you realize that none of this is on accident, right?"
"What do you mean?"
"Mercedes isn't bringing all of us together again for her health. Look, even though you and Brittany grew apart, the rest of us have been keeping tabs. The two of you haven't been a fraction of happy you were together these past few years. We are just trying to help. We all just want you to be happy. Brittany was working at a dead end job in Dayton, she hadn't danced in years. Mike and Tina said the only consistent thing in her life was her Louisville sweatshirt and a weird affinity for Fleetwood Mac. You guys are undeniable, Santana."
"Look, Wheels" Santana begins with malice in her voice, "I really don't fucking need relationship advice…"
Santana is cut off by Mercedes re-entering the conference room, and yet again disrupts what could have been an explosive moment between two old friends.
"Sorry about that team. Okay, Santana. As you know, Artie has begun storyboarding a video for each one of your songs. Obviously, you're not going to perform the whole LP, so we need to pick the eight songs that you think you want to perform and then Artie can work on the mapping." Mercedes gestures to Artie.
The man is clearly still reeling from the conversation but pulls himself together, "Right, um, so. I was thinking we open with Hello. We obviously need to include When We Were Young, seeing as that is probably the most popular one you have. Sweetest Devotion also has a lot of traction, but the other 5 are up to you. Mercedes and I agree that you probably have the best idea of where you want it to go and what best completes the story."
Santana taps her fingers against the wood for the table. Then begins to slide her fingers down the grain. "Water Under the Bridge. Remedy. I miss you. Send my love." Santana reels out without missing a beat.
Artie begins to scribble notes down and Santana sees him arranging titles on the iPad.
"One more, S" Mercedes says, also taking notes in her Moleskin.
"Um" Santana thinks about her list of songs, deciding what is the best message to send. "I actually want to open with Love in the Dark." Artie snaps his head up from his iPad.
"I kind of thought Hello made sense as an opening, it's kind of like you are calling Brittany back after all these years."
"Yeah, but I am not calling her back anymore. She is here. She is present. I need to send her the message that I can't love her without answers. And then we can kind of do a time warp thing from there. Begin in the present and then kind of weave into our past with When We Were Young, come back into the present with Send My Love?" Merecedes is staring at Santana. "Or not, these are just some thoughts. I am not the director."
"No, Santana, these are all really good ideas." Artie begins, "I am just going to need to troubleshoot some ideas. Maybe we can meet tomorrow with Brittany in one of the studios, and you can play through some of the songs and we can get an idea of flow. And then she can showcase some of the dance pieces she has been working on with Harry?"
"That sounds great, Artie" Mercedes says making a schedule change and emailing it to everyone. "Brittany is with Harry right now, I will send them an updated set list. I know they are working on I Miss You today." Mercedes gestures to Santana, "I anticipated that would be one you chose, S. Artie and I figured I miss you can kind of be a song for both of you. Coasts apart, in the present, both missing each other. This will be a lot of filming of dancing for Brittany and you writing."
Santana nods her head, silently agreeing.
"Well, great. I am going to head to my office and start re-arranging some of these numbers." Artie collects his stuff and wheels himself out leaving the two best friends sitting across from each other at the table.
"It's really happening, S. It's all coming together" Mercedes searches for her friends eyes, "You deserve this, Santana. This album, this work, this music. It truly is a work of art, and I think with the combination of talents, Artie is really going to make it come alive."
Again, Santana silently agrees with a nod.
Mercedes continues, "Look, babe, I know that all these ghosts from you past are really overwhelming, but I really think you need to talk to her."
"Who, Brittany?" Santana snaps back, "Look, Brittany and I are good, well we are fine. We are figuring it out."
"We can come back to that" Mercedes smiles, "But, I am not talking about Brittany."
"Cedes, don't."
"She was your best friend."
"You're my best friend."
"And you're mine, S. But, you know that Quinn was your best friend for a lot longer than I have been. Come on, Unholy Trinity and all that. She misses you."
"Yeah, well. It's her own fault."
"You've never really told me the whole story."
Santana takes a deep breath before she begins talking,
Flashback
The Latina stumbles into the apartment, accompanied by another nameless blonde. A blonde that if one were to squeeze their eyes hard enough and shift out of focus resembled the girl her heart belonged to. Another crash into a side table, and giggles, whispers of quiet that aren't so quiet, awaken the other occupant of the apartment.
"Fucking again, Santana?" Quinn's stern voice calls from the doorway of her room. Quinn's short blonde hair sticks out at angles telling of sleep. Her sleep shorts and tank top are a dead give away if the hair wasn't enough.
"Quinnie" Santana squeals, "You're awake."
"Yeah" Quinn scoffs "You fucking made sure of that. What the fuck are you doing, Santana. It's a Tuesday."
"Get your panties out of a twist, mom" Santana sneers back, "We are just going to head to my room." As Santana makes her way towards her room, she trips on nothing and splays out on the floor.
"Fuck" the Latina calls.
"Jesus" Quinn sighs. "Look, blondie you should just go."
Tension has been thick in the former cheerleaders apartment for about the past month. Santana moved to New York about a year ago, and Quinn willingly opened her door to her best friend after shit had hit the fan in Lima with Brittany. The Latina came to Quinn's door like a kicked puppy, looking for love, and Quinn couldn't help but provide shelter, warmth and love to her best friend.
The first month was agonizing. Santana wouldn't leave her room for more than 10 minutes a time. She hadn't turned to any vices like booze or drugs, so Quinn thought that maybe her hermit ways were the worst of what was to come. However, about a month after being in New York City, Santana started working, to which Quinn was delighted. It meant that Santana would have to get out of the house and meet people.
The job at Coyote Ugly was supposed to be temporary, and just to make ends meet while Santana wrote and recorded songs for her big break. But it had been over a year and Santana was still working at the bar, and her hermit behavior was the least of Quinn's worries. More time than she wanted to count, Quinn wiped vomit of her friends mouth and threw her in the shower fully clothed, trying to coax some life into her. More times than she wanted to remember, she held Santana as she sobbed about Brittany. Crying so hard to the point she would pass out. Quinn didn't know how to piece her friend back together.
The past month had definitely been the worst in the short tenure of the roommates. Santana's obsessive drinking had turned into excessive one night stands, and the Latina turned back into HBIC Santana of junior year. Not giving a shit about anyone but herself. Hiding from the reality of her world and situation, and tearing anyone down that tried to be her friend. Especially, Quinn.
"Fuck you, Quinn. She doesn't have to leave. This is my apartment, too." The Latina tries to pick herself up off the ground.
"What's her name, Santana?"
The Latina hesitates, "Um, Stacy?"
Quinn snaps her eyes up to the girl, "It's Melissa. I should probably just go."
"That's for the best. You certainly don't want to just be another long legged, blue eyed blonde on her bedpost."
"Fuck you, Quinn." Santana snaps.
The door closes behind Melissa and Quinn turns her attention back to the Latina who has finally gotten herself off the ground and onto a chair at the table.
"When are you going to figure your shit out, Santana?" Quinn all but yells at her friend. "Bringing girl after girl in here that looks just like her sin't going to bring her back. You realize that, right? Those girls aren't Brittany, and it's never going to be Brittany. Why can't you figure that out?"
Santana lolls her head and her brown eyes meet Quinn's green, "Look, Lucy. You don't know what the fuck you are talking about, so just shut your fucking mouth and mind your own god damn business."
"You are my god damn business, Santana. You're my best friend and I care about you. You're killing yourself trying to hang on to this relationship that doesn't exist anymore. You and Brittany dated for 8 months, Santana. You act like you dated for fucking years. It's fucking over. It's been over for close to two years. She has moved on. She's fucking happy. Just let go of that relationship." Quinn realizes she is cutting Santana deep with every word.
"Oh, so I am the one that holds on to relationships?" Santana seems to be gaining a little more composure through the argument, "How's Beth, Quinn? Hows your fucking daughter? Does she know about how Mommy dearest keeps pictures of her up on our fridge? How is that beautiful relationship?"
"Too fucking far, Santana" Quinn breaths.
"Sorry you haven't gotten laid since Puck, but don't put your baggage on me, Fabray."
Quinn snaps.
Santana gets up to make her way to her bedroom.
"You know why Brittany doesn't love you?" Quinn shouts across the apartment.
Santana turns and slowly looks at her friend.
"Cause you're fucking pathetic. You hide behind cruel words and bitchy remarks because you can't face the fact that you are fucking alone and fucking miserable. You pretend you are on top of the world, when in reality you are the lowest of the low. You push away any that could possible love you, because you can't even fucking love yourself. Guess what, Santana? You don't deserve to be loved. You are selfish, you are rude, you are insufferable. I can't believe Brittany stayed with you as long as she did. She really must be as stupid as they all say, hanging onto someone like you. You couldn't even be honest with yourself enough to hold on to the one fucking good thing you had in your life. No one fucking blames Brittany for moving on so quickly, hell we were surprised she stayed with your sorry ass for that long. You are a leech. You clamped onto her and sucked everything good out of that girl."
Tears were streaming down Santana's face.
"Sam isn't afraid of what he feels for her. He is proud to be with her. He makes her fucking happy. You probably just made her afraid to be with anyone else. You probably convinced her with promise of rainbows and butterflies because you were so fucking afraid to be alone, and poor, sweet, naive little Brittany was easy prey."
"DO NOT TALK ABOUT HER" Santana screams, "You don't know what you're talking about Fabray. You don't know what our relationship was."
"Yes, I do Santana. Brittany followed you around like a puppy and you just manipulated her into thinking it was love. It clearly wasn't as great as you think it was because look how quickly she moved on. Look how many times she rejected you after it. She doesn't love you, Santana. She probably never loved you, Santana. How could anyone fucking love you. Look at you. You're pathetic."
Before Santana could respond, Quinn stalks back into her room.
The next day, Quinn woke up with a horrible headache and she hadn't even been drinking. She knew she had gone way too far with, Santana. She and Santana were known for being at each other's throats all the time. They had a love hate relationship. Two different sides of the same bitch coin. But, Quinn knew this time she would really have to make it up to her best friend. No matter what, Quinn loved Santana, and she really took it way too far. She said things she didn't mean, and only used them to cut down her friend. If anyone was pathetic, it was Quinn.
The blonde rolled herself out of bed, and went to the kitchen to make Santana her favorite breakfast as the start of a long apology. When she finally got the tray ready, she made her way to Santana's room and pushed the door open.
"Santana" she whispered as the door swung open. Quinn was shocked with what she was met with. The room was empty. Drawers were flung open, the closet was empty, the bed was stripped. Posters taken off the wall. The only thing left was a note on the bed.
Q -
Wouldn't want to hold you back anymore.
-S
End Flashback
Tears were pricking at Santana's eyes as she relived her final moments with Quinn. Mercedes had shifted her seat to be next to Santana. An arm draped across her friends shoulders, holding her close. Quinn played on Santana's deepest insecurities. Insecurities that Santana had opened up about to Mercedes. Mercedes knew that being friends with Santana was a process, and the Latina could be so stubborn, but Quinn really took it way too far. One thing Santana was was a bitch, but she was also loyal and loving and devoted to those she cared about. Mercedes was shocked. She knew Quinn had treated Santana badly, but she didn't know the extent. Mercedes had to hear what Quinn had to say about this episode.
What neither woman realized was that they weren't alone in their moment. Just outside the conference room stood Brittany, who had come to see if they wanted to get lunch. She didn't mean to overhear, but she couldn't help it.
Tears streaming down her face.
AN2: Thoughts? Would love to hear them.