Together we will rise

by Jinxgirl

Post Glee, canon through season 5 and then AU after. About a year after Brittany and Santana have broken up, Brittany learns of a traumatic incident Santana endured and the suffering she's going through. Their paths draw together again as together they work to rebuild their lives- and eventually, their relationship. Trigger warning: incident of rape/physical assault, homophobia

13. Chapter 13

The day after her fainting landed her in the hospital, Santana had spent a day recuperating from the stress. She had slept better than she might have expected, having only one nightmare that Brittany had sensed and soothed her out of quickly enough she was able to settle back into sleep for the rest of the night. She had slept late the next morning and managed, through tears, but nevertheless still managed, to eat about two thirds of a bowl of cereal. She had gone with Brittany to Brittany's classes for the day, and although it had made her nervous to go out in public and she had been unable to make herself eat anything for lunch outside the safer feeling of Brittany's apartment, she had promised her she would eat when they got back home.

Home- that was exactly what Santana was beginning to think of Brittany's apartment as. Even though she still had a bed and belongings in the loft with Rachel and Kurt, the loft had stopped feeling truly like home on the same night she was assaulted. Now that she had a comparative place to go, a place that was free of bad associations and terror filled nights, she felt the difference that much more keenly.

Her phone had continued to be bombarded with texts and occasional calls from Kurt and Rachel since the day before, most of which Santana ignored not because she was upset with them, but because she just didn't have the will or energy to deal with their highly energetic level of concern and curiosity about the aftermath of the hospital. She knew they meant well and were just wanting to express that, but it was tiring just to see their name light up on her phone screen repeatedly, let alone have to read and form responses to them. Finally she had texted them both "cmin over 2nite 2 get stuff w/ B, stop it already!" and that seemed to give them the hint to ease up.

She hadn't actually intended to do so initially; she had just wanted them off her back for a few precious hours. But then when she thought about it, it did seem like the right thing to do. She did need to get a few of her things if she was going to keep staying at Brittany's much longer, and as much as she might sort of dread the smothering avalanche of words that were looming ahead of her, she should let them know she wasn't about to drop dead any second.

She let Brittany know after Brittany's final class of the day, and they made their way to the loft, with Santana growing somewhat restless and nervous as they grew closer. She didn't know why, exactly. It was just Kurt and Rachel, it wasn't like she hadn't known them forever and lived with them for a decent percentage of her adult life. They were basically like an equally nerdy and out of touch with the present version of the Brady Bunch stepsiblings or something to her. Still, she found herself tense and braced for being hit with the impact of their high energy and possible emotions.

And she wasn't wrong. The minute they knocked on the loft's door, having texted them first to make sure they were home to let them in, the door was flung open almost as if Rachel had been hovering, waiting, on the other side of it. Which Santana was pretty sure she had been. Rachel started talking immediately, her eyes wide and earnest and her voice so fast paced Santana wanted to cover her ears.

"Santana! And Brittany! I'm so glad you're here! Santana, you look better, I'm so glad! Although I suppose you would have to look better or they wouldn't have released you from the hospital, but I suppose you don't want to talk about the hospital and I can't blame you. Look, we have some things for you, Kurt and I, see?"

Rachel gestured behind herself, where Santana was horrified to see a large, hand decorated sign reading "Get Well Santana" in bold letters, complete with drawings of hearts and flowers. When Santana's mouth dropped, Rachel took this as pleased surprise and kept talking.

"And there's a card too beneath it. Oh, and we got you a box of candy, and some flowers! We would have got balloons but we couldn't find any that weren't animal shapes, and those seemed more like ones Brittany would like than you. Although I suppose we could have gotten some for you, Brittany. Anyway here they are, it's all on the kitchen table by the sign. Do you want any candy? Please, feel free to help yourself!"

"Um, yes, or anything else if you would rather have that," Kurt backed her up, betraying how twitchy and awkward he himself felt by running a hand through his carefully styled hair- a gesture he would normally never dare to do. "We just thought candy is, uh, standard for get well food gifts. But you can have whatever. Rachel even said her organic and vegan food is up for offer, and you know that's a huge effort on her behalf."

As both stared at her with eager, expectant anticipation of Santana's response, Santana was torn between equally strong desires to run out of the apartment and all the way back to Brittany's, to turn into Brittany, hide her face, and beg her to save her from them, and to burst into hysterical laughter at the sheer wrong of their efforts. She compromised, snickering as she reached back to grasp and tightly squeeze Brittany's hand.

"Oh my god, do you guys even know how to pretend to be normal people? Like even for a minute? Do they not provide trainings on your native alien land?"

In the past 24 hours, the two of them had sunk into peaceful domestic life. It seemed so natural, waking up, making two cereal bowls instead of just one, giving Santana lots of comfort and attention as she ate, words of positive reinforcement filling the room. She'd given her tons of physical affection afterwards, easing them into the day before Brittany had had to leave for her classes. Santana surprised her by wanting to join - Brittany wasn't sure if she would've preferred to stay at the apartment or go with her, but the answer had been that Santana chose not to be alone accompanying her to her classes, seemingly calm and steady so long as Brittany stayed in her line of vision. After each class, Brittany was drawn to her like a moth to a flame, crouching down to where Santana had sat herself in the back and checking in on her while students filtered in and out of the room.

She was surprised that Santana had suggested they go to the loft, but it quickly made sense once Santana complained about how incessant Kurt and Rachel were being. Brittany knew they of course felt bad, being that they had argued over Santana so shortly before she ended up fainting. Part of her was hesitant to go, to bring her into that space that had once provoked such fear and anxiety, but she knew that Rachel and Kurt truly were worried, and even if Brittany had felt angry with them, she couldn't keep Santana from them forever. She also knew that they were Santana's friends, even if Santana didn't willingly admit to that, and so she agreed that they should go, at least to calm down Kurt and Rachel who she knew were probably overdramatically worried, even though Santana had been discharged without a problem.

As they made their way there, she could see Santana growing more and more fidgety, checking in with her multiple times and promising they wouldn't stay too long, knowing Santana likely wouldn't have a high tolerance for all the theatrics that came along with Kurt and Rachel. The second the door opened, Brittany nearly regretted bringing her at all, both of them flinching when Rachel launched effortless into a rant. Her hand came up automatically to rest on the small of Santana's back as Rachel ushered them in, gesturing largely to the sign. Brittany had to admit, it was adorable, and a fairly selfless gesture for Kurt and Rachel, albeit not exactly on target.

Still, she pouted at the clearly handmade sign, giggling at Rachel's continuing description of what all was there for Santana. Her eyes flicked to Kurt, clearly uncomfortable, but it was obvious they'd made an effort to do something nice, even though candy wasn't the ideal gift for Santana at the time.

"Oh stop, that's very cute." She protested, squeezing Santana's hand back gently to comfort her. She knew everything they'd both just unloaded had to be a lot for her, but Brittany appreciated that they were clearly trying to do better.

Slipping a hand around Santana's waist for comfort, she took over the speaking, giving Santana a minute to emotionally process everything. "Santana's feeling way better," She reported, her hand rubbing her side to calm her. "We ate dinner together yesterday and breakfast today, and she came to all my classes." Brittany grinned proudly, her eyes glancing back to the sign, "Cute sign, what kind of candy?" She asked, peering at it, obviously going to be the one who would be eating the candy.

"Santana loves to share candy with me." She smirked, it was technically a lie, Santana always rooted through the Pierce candy bucket when they were giving out candy to trick or treaters and ate all the sour gummy worms. She probably would've shared them with Brittany and only Brittany, but Brittany didn't like sour candy anyway.

"It is not cute, it's an visual and auditory assault," Santana grumbled, averting her eyes from the slew of sensory overload that her friends have just thrust upon her. "Here's what a normal person would say. "Hi Santana." And that's basically it."

Still, her eyes drift back to the card. She's secretly a little touched by the effort they obviously put into this, although she still finds it uncomfortable and overwhelming, and she tries not to smile as she leans a little closer into Brittany's hand. "But no, no, you NYADA dorks have to do everything with the maximum drama possible. I bet you prepared like ten songs to dedicate in my honor too."

"Actually-" Rachel began, but Santana thrust a hand up hurriedly, eyes getting big with alarm.

"Do not even think about it. If you start to sing that sign is getting crammed down your open mouth."

"I told you she wouldn't go for the songs," Kurt stage whispered to Rachel, who pouted a little in disappointment.

"But we had several that were very fitting, and it does seem a shame to waste all the preparation. But I suppose perhaps we can video them and you can view them at your leisure?"

"It's assorted chocolates, Brittany," Kurt said helpfully in response to her question about the candy. "I've heard it said that all women like chocolate, and Rachel said although that was sexist it's also true. Please, help yourself," he gestured, "You too, Santana."

"Yes, help yourself!" Rachel backed him up. "Have as much as you want!"

Feeling very pressured by the eagle eyes trained on her, obviously wanting to watch her eat, Santana glowered. "I'm not a damn zoo animal, I'm not going to stand there and entertain you. See Santana Eat is not coming to a stage near you, not everyone makes their life a damn production."

"But you must be eating now for them to send you home, and Brittany just said you ate earlier!" Rachel persisted, as Kurt, slightly more alert to the cornered, nearly feral look in Santana's eyes when Rachel pushed the issue, elbowed her in the side.

"Um, also, Santana, Rachel and I, we sort of have an apology to make," he said awkwardly, clearing his throat and tugging at the collar of his shirt. "That group text, uh, the things we were saying? We should have taken everything more seriously. We should have before that, really."

"Yes, we are so sorry we didn't see all the signs of how severe your physical state had grown," Rachel said earnestly. "I mean, I did see that you were losing weight, but you've always been small, and I suppose I thought you weren't healthy but you weren't at a point of being in danger, and I suppose I thought you were doing it because you were upset, and not because you couldn't not do it, and besides-"

Kurt interjected, talking over her. "I shouldn't have implied you might have been making up that you fainted before, I had no idea things were so serious. It's not a good excuse, I should have been paying more attention or been more aware and educated, I didn't-"

"I'm sorry I was fussing over you moving my food, I shouldn't have worried about that as long as you were eating-" Rachel continued, and Santana yelled over them both, her head spinning at the chaos of words hitting her.

"Will you both please shut the hell up?"

They both snapped their mouths closed, looking a little intimidated and anxious both, and Santana rubbed at her temples, slowly lifting her eyes to look between them.

"What the hell are you talking about, when did either of you say any of those things? Those conversations never happened, or if they did they just did between you two. News flash, you're not supposed to tell someone when you bitch about them behind their back, do I even have to teach you how to be a bitch the right way?"

"Oh, Santana, it's okay if you don't remember reading or hearing about the discussion, you did hit your head," Rachel said earnestly. "Just know we're sorry and we take your well being very seriously!"

Completely fed up now, Santana turned to Brittany. "How are these two both delusional and I'm the one they're strapping to a hospital bed like a psycho?!"

Brittany could sense Santana's agitation as Rachel and Kurt only seemed to speak faster, wrapping both arms around Santana's waist as she leaned into her side, content to let Santana soak up as much physical calm from her as possible.

"We can definitely watch the videos." Brittany nodded quickly, knowing they'd likely never watch them but wanted to prevent Rachel from bursting into song in that very same moment. When Kurt interjected about the candy, Brittany smiled appreciatively. "We do like chocolate," She confirmed, sensing how insanely nervous he was. She did have lingering feelings about their disagreement and knew things wouldn't be instantly smoothed over, but also could see how hard they appeared to be trying and, at the very least, how uncomfortable Kurt seemed to feel about how the two of them had acted in the past.

She flinched a little when Rachel offered the chocolate to the both of them right in that moment, knowing there was no way Santana was going to eat it. "Uh, we'll take them home," She said, nodding sympathetically, squeezing Santana's side as Santana spoke. To Brittany, Santana was doing fairly well with the situation, given how poorly Rachel and Kurt - Rachel especially, were reacting to her.

"I don't think Santana wants to feel like she has to eat." Brittany explained gently, trying to point out to Rachel that, as adults, all of them ate when they wanted to and didn't need to be told. "She did eat earlier and she's doing really, really great, but some things are still a little bit hard." Brittany continued, determined to put the situation to rest.

Brittany had thought she'd diffused the situation, but when Kurt, to her surprise, brought up their text exchange, she paled. It was something she hadn't considered, the fact that he'd bring it up. She hadn't told Santana about it, not thinking she needed to upset her more or bring up the topic of her not eating so soon after she'd gotten upset at the loft. Afterwards, she'd honestly forgotten about it, focused only on Santana and giving her a healthy environment to deal with everything in. She gaped as the two of them went back and forth, their statements making perfect sense to her but, she knew, to Santana, they were completely confusing.

She swallowed hard when Santana stepped out of her arms, turning to face her in her confusions. Brittany shot glances to both Kurt and Rachel before speaking. "I… we got in an argument a little while ago over text about how bad things had gotten." Brittany confessed, wringing her hands together. "I was upset at them because they didn't seem to realize how bad it was and it had been happening for so long and they hadn't known." She said, revealing to Kurt and Rachel that Santana hadn't known about the conversation until this moment. "I- I didn't mean to hide it from you I…I just thought it would be upsetting for you to read because they didn't notice."

Brittany hadn't actually considered showing Santana, knowing Rachel and Kurt's words would hurt her even though she frequently asserted that they weren't friends, knowing that their assumptions and judgments would still sting. "I'll let you read them if you want," She added deflatedly, owning up to the fact that even if she wanted to protect Santana, honesty was the most important thing to Brittany and she'd never hide them from Santana if she asked.

Santana stared at Brittany as she made her confession, her lips parted slightly, completely taken aback. She took another step back from her, her eyes shifting from Brittany's nervous posture to Rachel's and Kurt's, who were only just beginning to realize the hole they had dug for themselves with their apologies. The mingled horror and dread of their expressions might have been amusing to Santana another time, but it wasn't now, at all.

"So what, you all were talking about me behind my back?" she snapped, her tone brittle, features drawing tight as her defensive, self protective walls slammed firmly back into place. "Let me guess. You," she said, pointing to Brittany, "tried to rally up a team to "help" me, help I didn't want and didn't need, and you two had better shit to do anyway, like elaborate facials and masturbating to the sound of your own voice or something. Whatever, it's not like I wanted your version of so-called help anyway, if this is any indication of what you have to offer," she said, gesturing with her arm broadly to encompass the card, sign, and candy that Rachel and Kurt had gotten.

When Brittany offered to let Santana read them, she shrugged, putting off as though she didn't care and it didn't matter to her what had been said. "Whatever, like I care what either of you think. What the hell does it matter?"

Even as she said it though she dug in Brittany's pocket for her phone, unable to resist not knowing. She easily entered the password to unlock the phone and flipped through texts to find the one referenced as Kurt and Rachel both stood very uncharacteristically silent and increasingly anxious in anticipation of her reading. Santana skimmed the text quickly, her body growing noticeably taut as each sentence stung, hitting her anew with feelings of being misunderstood, being dismissed, even being seen as different than the reality of the true situation. Her eyes darkened with hurt, her hands whitening around the phone from their grip, and when she looked up again, thrusting the phone back at Brittany, her tone is cool, but she can't entirely hide the hurt in her eyes.

"Right, okay. So I'm a manipulative liar and a pain in the ass, and you're sick of dealing with me. Whatever, maybe you two are no stroll in the park either, did you consider that? Maybe having to live with people who think the sun shines overhead every day just to illuminate the bright light of their own so called stardom isn't all it's cracked up to be, maybe'-"

"Santana," Kurt attempted to interject, apologetic in tone, and Rachel too tried, "Santana, really, we both said we're sorry, we didn't mean and we didn't realize-"

"Whatever, it's whatever. I don't care, and I don't have time for this shit. I don't have time for you," Santana cut them off, making a harsh slashing motion through the air. "I'm just here to get my shit and go, so yay to you both. No worries, the dramatic problematic psycho is out of your hair."

She stalked past them, deaf to their efforts to refute her, and violently ripped the curtain of her section of the loft aside and back closed, nearly ripping it off its post. As she starts grabbing random items, throwing them on her bed, she is trembling, her throat blocked with tears.

It doesn't matter. What the fuck does she care, it doesn't matter. They said they were sorry, and they're just lame, self righteous little dorks from LIma, they aren't even her friends. It doesn't matter.

But it feels like it does, damn it.

As she spoke, she could see the betrayal and shock flicker across Santana's face, feeling guilty that she'd been part of the reason for it. This was the worse possible scenario and it was happening right in front of her - she'd made the decision not to tell Santana that day, but hadn't meant to actually keep it from her for so long, she'd forgotten about it and been distracted with spending all of her time with Santana now that Santana stayed at her apartment nearly exclusively. Still, she knew how bad it looked, even if it hadn't been her intent to make it seem like she was keeping secrets.

"Yeah," Brittany answered honestly. "It's hard because I haven't been here the whole time so I don't have the full picture." She admitted. "I haven't told them all the…." She trailed off, wanting to be honest with Santana but also make it clear to her that she wasn't telling Rachel and Kurt all the personal things Santana had shared with her. "All the things we've talked about, but sometimes I ask them questions about things, or like, that day for example, it seemed so bad and I was shocked that it didn't seem as bad when they first called me, so that's why I texted them." She knew she was babbling, but she wanted Santana to have all the facts, knowing how quickly her mind could run, wanting to be as transparent as she could possibly be.

She flinched when Santana pointed at her, clearly seeing how angry, but also upset Santana already was at the situation, knowing the venom in her words was only there to cover up the sadness she probably felt. Chewing her bottom lip between her teeth, she glanced at Kurt and Rachel, both equally horrified that Santana hadn't known and that they'd been the ones to tell her. At first, she thought maybe Santana wouldn't read them, that it seemed like she really didn't care about what the text themselves said, but when Santana slipped her hand into her own pocket, she stilled. When she offered, she pictured she and Santana reading them later at home, not right here, right now, when emotions were continuing to climb. She knew she herself hadn't said anything bad at all, but she still didn't want Santana to see them, knowing that Kurt and Rachel were some of the very few people Santana cared about, knowing she'd be hurt from their messages, confirming all the negative rumors there had been about Santana, the false idea of who she really was, the fact that they'd failed to notice how bad she was.

Brittany didn't stop her when she pulled her phone out, taking a deep breath, her hands knotted in front of her, her eyes on Santana's as Santana's eyes moved back and forth as she navigated to the messages. She could tell the second that she found them, seeing how tight Santana's muscles became, how her entire frame got rigid as she scrolled through the conversation. Her only consolation was that Brittany felt grateful she'd eventually just stopped responding, which ended the conversation fairly quickly, only providing Santana with so many messages to read. The three of them stayed quiet until Santana had finished, and when she handed it back, Brittany could plainly see the hurt and emotion swimming in her eyes, her heart breaking at the sight.

She didn't think anything good would come from Kurt and Rachel trying to apologize right then and she was right, Santana cut them off in the middle of their apologies, obviously upset, more upset than she was trying to show. Brittany watched her vanish behind her curtain, yanking it shut like if she pulled hard enough, she could shut out the emotions that were warring inside of her. Alone with Kurt and Rachel, Brittany looked at them sadly.

"She's hurt," She said softly, "Way more than she wants to be, I think. Can you guys just…give us a minute?" Brittany asked, trying to make sure they didn't follow her into Santana's room.

Trying to swallow her own guilt and sadness, Brittany moved across the loft, hearing Santana moving things around inside her space. Quietly, she slipped through the curtain as Santana continued to 'pack', even though Brittany knew she was only trying to distract herself. "Santana, I'm sorry. I know I should've told you." She began softly.

Kurt and Rachel looked stricken, confused, and guilty as they looked in the direction of Santana's closed curtain.

"We...we didn't want to hurt her, we never wanted that," Rachel said in a far quieter voice than usual, her brow furrowed with concern. "That was why we were apologizing. We, we didn't realize you hadn't talked to her about it...we sort of thought you two talked about everything, and...should we talk to her too?"

"I definitely don't think so, Rachel, not now," Kurt interjected, shaking his head. He took looked bothered as the glanced between the curtain and Brittany. "God...this didn't turn out anywhere near like we wanted. This definitely was not what we wanted. I'm sorry, Brittany."

As Brittany came into her space, Santana could hear and see her drawing closer out the corner of her eye but kept her back turned, rigid with barely restrained emotion as she continued to throw clothes in the suitcase without much care for what she was putting in or how she did so. She spoke through a clinched jaw, her hands still shaking.

"No, you shouldn't have, what does it matter? You all wanted to talk about crazy Santana and you did, they were glad to thrust me out of their hair and over to you so everyone's happy now. Yay. Let's go."

Not really having a clue what she had just backed, she zipped it haphazardly and made motion as though she intends to stroll through the curtain and right out the loft's door.

Brittany sighed, moving to sit on the edge of her bed. "Santana that's not what I wanted," She said, not putting up much of a fight at all, knowing Santana had every right to be mad. "I was…" Brittany shook her head, thinking back to how scared she'd been then day. "I was terrified, it was the worst feeling ever, realizing it had gotten so bad without me knowing." She confessed. "I texted them because when they'd called me, when we'd talked, I knew….I knew about it, but I didn't know how bad. So I just wanted to know what they thought, about how it had been before I got here." Brittany explained gently, "I didn't think they'd say those things." Brittany said, even though that much was obvious.

As Santana encouraged them to leave, Brittany set her hand on the suitcase, preventing Santana from pulling it off the bed. "I know you're upset with me. You have every right to be. But just let me help you pack before we go." Brittany reasoned, knowing Santana hadn't actually packed or thought about it.

Standing, she moved to the dresser, opening each drawer to make sure nothing important or necessary was left, gathering all the items she thought they should take in a pile on the bed, unplugging a phone charger from an outlet, making sure Santana had her hairbrush and things like socks and underwear, periodically asking Santana if she wanted to bring this shirt or that pair of jeans, doing a quick sweep of the room, knowing it was better if they got everything now and didn't have to come back for something, not sure how long it would be until Santana would want to even go back. Unzipping the suitcase, she added her pile, setting it on the floor.

"Okay," She finally agreed, "Let's go. We can Uber back to my apartment so we don't have to roll this on the street." Brittany knew their conversation was far from over, but if she pushed it, Santana would get upset right there and Brittany knew she didn't want that and so she stepped into her role of carefully supporting Santana until they were safely back at Brittany's.

Santana stood, silent and still other than her legs, twitching restlessly, and her hand, tapping without rhythm against her side. She accepted what Brittany was saying, could even understand it, that the other girl had been scared for her and wanting help and support in understanding what the other two knew. She knew Brittany hadn't meant to hurt her in her actions, or to betray her trust, and she acknowledges that with a tight nod, the words short and spare in response to her.

"I know, okay? I want to go. I just want to go."

She barely responded to Brittany as Brittany packed for her. Her thoughts are spiraling, falling into an abyss of criticism and insecurity. How long had Rachel and Kurt felt that way about her? She knew she had overwhelmed them with her behavior, her need, her fears. She knew that- if it was all too much for her to deal with, it couldn't be wanted or easy for them either. And part of her knew that they had tried, that they did care. But now it felt so much to her like they didn't, like they never had. As the words she had read replayed and expanded in her mind, with Santana reading into them more than what had actually been said, she felt like she had just had two of the very few people she trusted ripped out of her tiny inner circle.

Taking the suitcase from Brittany, she rolled it through the curtain, ignoring when Kurt and Rachel both tried to address her as she walked through the loft. She ignored too Rachel's increasingly desperate effort to get Santana to take some or all of what they had gotten for her, holding her head high and not even letting herself look towards it or them. Outside the loft, holding the handle of her suitcase, she waited for the Uber Brittany had called. Although her face is set grimly, eyes narrowed, head up, her chin is starting to shake with the effort not to let herself give in to her true feelings.

Brittany relented with a nod, accepting that they weren't going to get that much more accomplished in the loft when Santana was fighting so desperately to keep it together. She let Santana take the suitcase, following her back into the main area where both Kurt and Rachel had barely even moved from their positions. As they went, Brittany shook her head at both of them, silently telling them no, they hadn't talked about anything and silently telling them anything they said right then probably wouldn't help at all.

"I'll hold it" Brittany said when Rachel tried to give Santana the card and chocolate, accepting it with her free hands as Santana continued forward without even looking at them. She wasn't sure if Santana would tell her to throw it in the trash the minute they got home, but for then, she held onto it, shooting Rachel and Kurt a look over her shoulder as they left.

She shoved everything into her dance bag as they waiting on the sidewalk, checking her phone to determine the location of the Uber, praying it would arrive sooner rather than later. "It should be around the corner," Brittany reported, glancing at Santana.

She could see how hard she was fighting to keep it together, and Brittany felt her heart crack at the sight. From the way her chin wobbled it was clear that she had been cut deep by the messages she read, which Brittany knew was hard for her - one, to read those things and two, to be so hurt by Kurt and Rachel. Gently, she rested her hand on her lower back as they waited, not saying anything, not wanting to upset Santana until they were at home, not wanting to make Santana's fight to contain her emotions any harder.

The Uber, thankfully, rolled up only seconds later, and Brittany helped Santana get the suitcase in before going around to the other side, the two of them in the back seat with the suitcase between them. The ride to the apartment wasn't that far, and Brittany realized they honestly could've walked, but ultimately felt grateful she'd had the idea to Uber, because a walk would've taken longer and all she wanted for Santana was to get her home. Neither of them spoke on the drive, but Brittany did reach over the luggage, resting her hand on Santana's thigh to ground her.

Santana felt Brittany's hand on her back but didn't respond to it. She stays rigid, aware of her phone vibrating with texts in her pocket undoubtedly from Rachel and/or Kurt, but ignores this too. When the Uber arrives she gets in silently, facing towards the window, because she isn't sure she can meet Brittany's eyes without breaking when she sees the girl's empathy for her reflected back. She almost loses it when Brittany puts a hand on her thigh but swallows a few times, clinching her jaw, and widens her eyes until she feels a little more in control. She has no memory of anything outside the window that they passed until they pull up to Brittany's apartment.

As Brittany pays and they get out, Santana almost brushes past her, fumbling for her own key with slightly shaky hands to let them in as quickly as possible. She lets her bag drop to the floor by the doorway and goes into Brittany's bedroom without saying anything, leaving the door slightly cracked. Sitting on the bed, she lets her head lower a little, her hands in fists pressed down against her upper thighs, and continues to try to reign her emotions in, keep them shoved down and deny they exist.

It doesn't matter. It shouldn't matter. Brittany had already said she was worried about her, that was why she had messaged them, and Santana knew that made sense and was true. She didn't like her not telling her about the conversation, but Brittany talking to Kurt and Rachel, in and of itself, wasn't something she could fault her for.

And it wasn't like she couldn't have guessed that Kurt and Rachel were both overwhelmed and tired from trying to deal with her. She knew that and could have said so herself, even if they hadn't actually had the nerve to say it to her face. But for them to be directly asked, begged, really, by Brittany to help her help Santana, to take seriously what was happening to her for the real severity of how things were, and for them to just...not...and for Kurt to seem to think she was still manipulative enough to lie about something like this, just to make some kind of point or something...

It hurt. It hurt a hell of a lot, because Kurt and Rachel, for the months after her attack and for the time grieving her break up right before it, were more or less all that Santana had. Maybe she had put too much on them, and maybe she should have pulled back and put herself out there more, tried harder, been more independent or tougher or braver. Maybe she should have gone back home to her parents, as pathetic and horrible as that would have felt, rather than become the kind of person they seemed to have thought she was.

She made a lot of jokes and put up a lot of protests, but the truth was that Kurt and Rachel were like her family, more so than the majority of her actual family. She might harass them relentlessly sometimes, but she would also do anything she could to help them without a second thought, and she would fiercely defend them against anyone else who said anything against them. She had thought that maybe they had finally started to see her differently than the high school Santana they were accustomed to, but maybe she was fooling herself.

She did not want those two stupid Lima Losers to make her cry. But fuck it, she was starting to.

Brittany felt Santana's body quake against her as the sob ripped through her, holding her even tighter as if Brittany herself could prevent Santana from breaking into a million tiny fissures. "I've got you," She hummed, knowing Santana was still fighting so hard to try and keep from crying, even though at that point there was no use. Her emotions were coming in full force and Brittany knew the only thing she could do was hold her, to be there for her through the storm.

"You care because they're your friends." Brittany said, feeling how tightly Santana gripped her legs. "You care what they thing, and that's okay. Of course you do," She said simply.

She knew Santana's entire life she'd been telling herself not to care about things, about the rumors or insults, about other people's judgements. She'd spend so long trying to avoid caring that it only made it harder to deal with those emotions when they inevitably bubbled to the surface, clawing their way out even though Santana fought so hard to suppress them.

"They like you, Santana, they do, and they'd be so upset if anything ever happened to you." Brittany explained, even though she felt angry having to even explain it. "What they said was awful and wrong and self centered. Rachel was beside herself at the hospital, she was so upset when I got there, and I know Kurt feels awfully too. That doesn't mean you have to forgive them for what they said, but I know they care about you, even if they do an awful job of showing it." She hushed, wishing she could provide more comfort, wishing that Rachel and Kurt hadn't come across so selfishly through their texts. The fact that Santana had to question if anyone else really cared made her stomach sink, and simultaneously made her feel mad at the entire world for dealing Santana such a shitty hand.

"If people don't understand you, they're just missing out," She promised her with conviction. Brittany believed it wholeheartedly. Their friends and, Santana's parents especially, anyone who hadn't taken the time to get to know Santana or really give her a chance was simply missing out on all the good things about her.

Santana finally let herself give in, her hands drifting up to cover Brittany's arms crossed over her chest and clutching them tighter to her. She hugged Brittany's arms more tightly around herself, giving herself a sort of double hug with Brittany's arms and her own. She sniffed and tried to listen to Brittany, knowing Brittany never lies to her, that she always tells her the truth as she sees it. Still she found it hard to believe her, when her mind and her feelings are telling her the opposite.

"I don't want to care," she sniffled. "Caring sucks. I wish I didn't care."

She took several breaths as Brittany continued to soothe her, still fearful that Brittany is wrong. She barely remembered Rachel being at the hospital; she had been so frightened and upset she had been unable to focus on anything but Brittany. But when she tried to think back she did seem to remember Rachel being upset. She knew that they both got upset when she had nightmares, and they did try to help, even if it rarely was effective. She knew they had tried. If they really didn't care, Rachel wouldn't walk her to class and let her stay in her bed and sit with her when she showered, and Kurt would have lost patience with her far faster. She knew all this, but it was hard to remember and emotionally connect with that in the aftermath of the texts.

Calming down slightly, she lifted one hand and rubbed it roughly over her eyes, releasing another shaky breath, before saying quietly what she could only ever say out loud to Brittany- what she could barely acknowledge to herself as thinking sometimes. "I know I'm a bad person sometimes. Or I used to be anyway. I know I don't deserve them or anyone else to like me because of all the shit I've done to them and the other geeks like them in school. And, and I know I'm a lot to take. I piss my own self off sometimes so god knows how many times I've pissed everyone else off in the world. Or like, this week even. I know all that. But I thought maybe people thought of me a little differently now, and that I was a little different even if I act like I'm not sometimes. I thought they knew it was just acting."

She turned her head a little to look back at Brittany. "Don't they get that? That it's just acting?"

She smiled sadly at Santana's wish that she didn't care. Sometimes, she wished Santana didn't care either, it would make so much of her heartache more bearable, if everything that happening in Santana's life didn't really affect her, didn't break her heart little by little. She rubbed up and down Santana's upper arms where she held them, her arms crossed in front of her, Santana too now holding onto Brittany's arms. It was the most she could possibly hold Santana, but still, it seemed like it wasn't quite enough, it felt like she still wished she could hold her even closer, even tighter.

Brittany knew that deep down, Santana knew Rachel and Kurt cared about her, even though their own self centeredness often contradicted that. Rachel and Kurt had done so much for her, especially when Brittany was gone, and even though Brittany herself was angry at them for how awful they'd sounded over the texts, she was grateful for all they'd done in her absence, knowing that they'd helped Santana a huge amount even if their efforts were sometimes not at all perfect. They both had complained to her a good deal about Santana disrupting their routines, but they never actually stopped her from sleeping with Rachel or stopped comforting her when she needed it. Brittany just wished their mouths matched how good she knew their hearts could be.

"You're not a bad person." Brittany said, swiftly interjecting before letting Santana continue. Pressing her lips together, she contemplated what Santana was saying. It was so complicated, the entire thing, that Brittany found herself trying to untangle the knot of her own thoughts. When Santana turned to look at her, Brittany twisted her lips, contemplating. "I think…" She sighed. "I think they just don't understand." Brittany said, knowing that was true. "I think it's hard for them in a way that it isn't hard for me because they don't know about everything." She pointed out gently.

That was true- most people had no idea how bad Santana's home life had always been and just how much she'd struggled with her sexuality and the pressure everyone put on her to be popular, skinny, smart and Quinn's constant competition. To everyone on the outside, Santana just seemed like the typical mean girl who had life handed to her and got to be a Cheerio and had a perfect body and was one of the most popular girls in school, but no one actually knew how hard she'd fought for every single thing and how afraid she was of losing them.

"I don't think you were ever a bad person either, I just think you were hurt and all your emotions had no place to go." She explained, speaking bluntly, knowing she could as it was just the two of them. "Rachel and Kurt are just focused on themselves more than other people, so they never really tried to figure you out." She soothed, knowing that was unfortunately true for many people in Santana's life, parents included.

Santana breathed, considering what Brittany had to say, her perspective. Brittany had a way of putting what seemed to complex and tangled up to Santana in her own mind in terms that were simple, clear, and able to ease her emotions. She knew it was true; she didn't understand her own self sometimes, so it could hardly be easy for anyone else to understand her. Just because Brittany could, often better and before Santana understood her own self, didn't mean she could expect anywhere close to understanding of that level from anyone else.

She leaned her head back against Brittany's chest, still thinking about Brittany's words. It was true that Santana rarely did talk to anyone outside of Brittany about her family or her childhood, both now and back when she was actually growing up. She had spent such little time with her parents as a child that she had assumed it was common for children to spend most of their time with grandparents; when she found out otherwise in elementary school, it had been confusing at first, and she had then come to the conclusion that there was something wrong with her, that her parents had chosen not to be around her very often because of something about her that made them not want to be. Once she was old enough to understand that they had busy careers and schedules, she nevertheless still secretly felt that they would make more effort to talk with her, attend her school events, and have dinner with her if they had really wanted to or felt interested.

She didn't talk to people about how harsh and sometimes downright mean her abuela could be towards her, long before she disowned her for coming out to her. She didn't talk about feeling so bored and lonely as a child that by the time she befriended Brittany in sixth grade and met her family for the first time, she wanted to spend every possible second with them- not just to be with Brittany, but to be with her parents and her sister, to almost be able to pretend she was the third Pierce daughter. She didn't talk to people about being bullied in elementary and middle school to the point that she resolved in the summer before her freshman year that she would never, ever let anyone see her hurt again, that she would strike out and wound before anyone could even think to target her. She didn't talk about how sometimes she had absolutely hated being popular and wished she could just be friends with a few people, whether or not they were popular or pretty, and sometimes she wished she had never joined Cheerios at all. She didn't talk about how she had once overheard an argument between her parents when they thought she was sleeping that explained so much to her- that her pregnancy had been an accident, their marriage after the fact pressured by their Catholic families, and that if it was up to them, they probably never would have married or had Santana at all.

They didn't know that although Santana's parents had told her they accepted her sexual orientation, they rarely mentioned it after she came out to them and had encouraged her not to be too "showy" about it in front of religious family members or people who "might not be open minded." They didn't know that even now, Santana wondered if even her parents thought, like her abuela, that she was headed straight for hell.

They didn't know how much she had fought her body and her mind and her feelings for as far back as she could remember, even as she fought to make their lives hellish as hers felt to her. And how could she tell them now, when it sounded like nothing but weak excuses to her own mind?

Santana didn't talk about any of these things, ever, not to anyone but Brittany. She didn't know how she could make herself vulnerable enough to say the words to someone who didn't already know.

"I don't know how to talk to them about everything," Santana said softly, referring to her history, to everything that she and Brittany knew that Kurt and Rachel didn't, to the expanse of what lay behind her behavior in high school that she had somewhat tried to make up for but had never been able to explain to them. "Do you think I should? I don't even know what I would say. It sounds like a bunch of excuses that don't matter."

Brittany knew the conversation was edging into sensitive territory, bringing up Santana's past and her parents, and Brittany rested her chin on Santana's shoulder, trying to push as much comfort and security into Santana's body as she could muster. Shew knew the concept of letting people into her darkest truths was foreign to Santana and Brittany couldn't blame her for that. Her pain ran deep, starting when she was so young. She hated to think about Santana's life before they'd met. At least when they'd met, Brittany's family easily acted like a substitute for Santana's own, with Brittany's parents welcoming Santana over for dinner most nights without ever asking questions and hardly blinking when Santana was over on a daily basis.

When she got older, Brittany was sure that they'd known what had to be going on with Santana's family, but they never directly questioned Santana or made her feel uncomfortable, and for that, Brittany was endlessly grateful, realizing how outrightly kind her parents had always been to Santana all those years ago. She hated that Santana's own family didn't give her as much love, but she was thankful she'd met Santana when she did and that Santana didn't mind using her family as a stand in.

As Santana leaned her head back against her, Brittany pressed a kiss to the spot where her neck met her shoulder, contemplating Santana's question, wanting to make sure she answered it how she really believed. "I don't think you have to tell them everything. That would be hard, letting people into all of that." She said, reassuring Santana that she knew just how difficult that would be. "I also don't think you really want to tell them." Brittany pointed out, knowing Santana kept things close to her chest and was actually way more introverted than anyone would've guessed.

"I think you can tell them as much or as little as you'd like, or even just start talking to them a bit more about what's been going on." She suggested gently. "I don't think you have to tell them all the things that happened in the past, but I think maybe if you talked to them a little about how hard it's been and what it feels like when you eat or have nightmares. I think that would help them understand, just like it helps me." Brittany whispered softly, her hand rubbing up and down Santana's side. "I think you should do whatever feels comfortable for you, but even being just a tiny bit vulnerable or telling them what you're feeling might be more helpful than you think."

Santana swallowed again and sighed in a slow, drawn out breath, nodding slightly against Brittany's head as she acknowledged the other woman's point. She really didn't want to tell Rachel and Kurt everything. She wouldn't know where to begin, seeing as it would be years worth of incidents of what in reality could be defined as emotional abuse and neglect that had helped shape her into the child and teenager she had become. It would feel far too much, far too emotionally vulnerable, and even the thought of trying was exhausting.

She considered what Brittany was suggesting, telling them how she feels now, what she's been going through. It was something she had deflected and outright refused, even when they tried to get her to, even when they were trying to understand and be able to help. It felt too much and too hard at the time, beyond what she could tolerate. But maybe now, with Brittany's help, she could try. Maybe it was possible now.

Santana sighed again, her thoughts drifting back to Brittany's parents. She felt a strong ache then in her chest as she pictured their genuine warmth and smiles at seeing her, and she missed them so strongly it felt like a loss to think of how long it had been since she last stood in their kitchen or sat on their couch. She pictured her own parents, her abuela, and was somewhat bothered to realize that she didn't experience that same pull of longing towards them.

"I miss your parents," she said softly. "I miss them more than my parents, or my abuela. I haven't seen them in over two years, you know. My parents. Not for Christmas or Thanksgiving or my birthday or anything. I don't think they care that much that I haven't been back home.. They don't call or anything, and they didn't push the last time I said I was doing something else."

She let out another somewhat shaky breath and brushed away a stray emerging tear. "I'm an adult, we all are. Is it totally lame that I wanted them to tell me I needed to come home? Because I know they won't. I don't think they ever will."

Brittany smiled gently against Santana's shoulder, knowing that her even agreeing to try to let Kurt and Rachel in a little was a massive step for her. "I don't think you need to tell them everything, maybe only how you feel, like if you're having a tired day or a sad day." She said softly, her fingertip swirling patterns on Santana's thigh.

She knew it would be difficult for Santana to discuss her fears about eating, or how men in hats like at the diner made her upset, or what exactly she saw in her nightmares that was so traumatizing. But feelings were a good first step, and Brittany knew Kurt and Rachel would accept them without asking for too much of an explanation into them.

At Santana's admission that she missed her parents, Brittany smiled sadly, pouting. It was adorable, and it warmed her heart how much Santana loved her parents and her parents loved Santana in return, but it was also heartbreaking because, Brittany knew, Santana deserved her own parents filling those roles. Growing up, it had been great that she and Santana could hang out all the time and that her parents embraced her, but she knew in a perfect world, the Piece family wouldn't have needed to do so.

"They miss you too," Brittany said instantly, because she knew that they did. "They hardly even want to hear about me when I call them," She confessed with a laugh, "Everything is, how's Santana doing." Brittany smiled at the memory of her parents basically demanding answers over the phone. "I told them what happened." She confessed a moment later, "Not all the details, just why I was coming back and why I was quitting my job with zero plans." She laughed again, thinking of that conversation with her parents, which had basically been a ton of questions and not very many answers from Brittany.

"Santana, they're your parents." She hummed softly. "It's not lame to want your parents, everyone does, even as an adult." Brittany justified softly, leading Santana away from that harsh self-critique of her own emotions she often fell into. "No matter what you're always going to want them to care," She promised, trying to ignore the knot in her stomach realizing how long Santana had gone without seeing her own parents, even longer than Brittany had gone when she was on tour.

Sighing, Brittany squeezed Santana a bit tighter before she was struck with an idea. "Do you want to call my parents?" Brittany asked, sitting up a little.

Brittany had mostly been talking to her parents in private, not sure if hearing her speak to them would only upset Santana about her own parents even more. She'd been delivering updates in private to her parents, telling them as much as was necessary while simultaneously trying to keep them from worrying too much and respecting Santana's privacy. Now, however, she realized talking to her parents might actually help Santana.

Santana relaxed back against Brittany's chest, her leg muscles loosening under her stroking hand. She is calmer, though still sad, reflective, and nods slowly, considering Brittany's suggestion of how to talk to Kurt and Rachel.

"So I just...say that? That I'm sad today, or I'm scared today, or whatever?" She wondered aloud, the idea feeling strange and awkward to her. "That will be so weird. I only do that with you. Why can't people just know that?"

She sighed. "I can try, I guess. Still think it's weird."

Santana smiled softly when Brittany told her that her parents missed her and actually laughed when she said how much they had asked about her. She believed her. She had always felt a close connection to Brittany's mom, to the point that Brittany had sometimes joked Santana was her favorite. She loved how Katherine Pierce always listened so attentively and with interest to anything she said, how she was quick to hug and smile and show affection. She loved how Thomas Pierce said little and never called her by her real name, but nevertheless had told her he was proud of her more often by far than both her parents combined. God, she missed them so much thinking about it that it hurt to think how long it had been since she saw them.

She tensed, the smiles flattening out when Brittany told her that her parents knew what had happened. It was wasn't exactly surprising, given how it had affected Brittany's life change, but it still made her choke up a little with shame she couldn't quite explain. What if they saw her differently now, if they pitied her or treated her as someone else?

She didn't respond to Brittany's reassurance that wanting her own parents was normal and okay. It didn't feel that way to her. She had always felt a confusing mix of anger, resentment, and love, strongly tempered with a desire for attention and validation, love and affection when she thought of her parents. Her relationship with them had become mostly non-existent since she stopped going home or calling, relegated to an occasional text around holidays. It left her feeling hollow every time she thought of them, hollow and hurt.

When Brittany suggested calling her parents, Santana instinctively straightened, eager at the prospect. Then she paused, uncertain. "Do they still want to talk to me? Like...they won't look at me weird, after you told them, and you dropped out of tour and everything, and we're not really together, and...they won't think it's weird?"

Brittany giggled a little. "Yeah, pretty much. Everyone feels those things San, even if they don't say it out loud. I'm sure Rachel and Kurt feel more emotions than most people because they're dramatic," She pointed out. "It's okay to admit when you're just having a bad day or upset and still keep things private. Just take it slow." She encouraged, "I think it'll help them realize they need to be nicer to you and that you're a real person. Sometimes, I think tey thing you're so strong that you don't hurt too."

When Santana straightened in her arms, no doubt from excitement, Brittany's smile widened to a grin, loving how happy Santana was about calling her parents. She was about to crawl off the bed to go grab her cellphone from where she'd left it on the kitchen counter, but paused when she felt Santana do the same. She waited, eyebrows raised, for Santana to voice whatever concern she had.

"Of course they do," She insisted. "They didn't question me when I told them I did it, I think they were actually relieved that I chose to drop out. I think they were worried I was stretching myself to thin with tour and would burn out." Brittany confessed, which was the truth.

In the weeks and months after the breakup, Brittany threw herself into the tour, working hard so she didn't have to think about how much she missed Santana, a distraction from the pain. Her mother had pointed out multiple times just how exhausted she sounded and how she seemed like she needed a break from dance and work, but Brittany slipped around their answers.

"My knee was starting to act up toward the end and they were kind of freaking out," She confessed. "They also thought I was spiraling after the breakup, which was true also." Brittany knew they had to talk about that more in depth, but she at least wanted Santana to know how her parents felt.

"They were upset I broke up with you, obviously, even though they understood why I did and agreed I couldn't keep leaving you like that, even though I don't think they ever really accepted it." Her parents had not been happy when she told them she ended their relationship, but agreed that they wanted to see Santana happy and understood that Brittany leaving so often wasn't healthy for their relationship. "When I told them I had to come back for you they didn't even ask about if I'd go back to tour." She shrugged. "I'm going to get my phone."

Brittany was quick as she moved into the kitchen and plucked her phone off the counter, bringing it back into the bedroom and sitting beside Santana. "Don't be nervous," She grinned as she dialed her house phone number, clicking the speaker version as the dial tone pinged a few times before her mother's voice filled the room.

"Brittany?"

"Hiiiii Mom," Brittany greeted, a smile evident in her voice. "I just got finished with class today and got back to the apartment, Santana's still staying with me, we were talking about you guys and I thought I'd call you, she's here." Brittany added.

Santana continued to muse over talking to Rachel and Kurt. She nodded slowly, doubtful, but willing to try. "Okay. I guess I can try. I mean they can't help being socially incapacitated any more than they can being weirdly obsessive about ancient movies and musicals, so maybe I should cut them slack a little. Just a LITTLE."

She listened to Brittany's reassurance and new information about her parents' response to her breaking up with Santana and quitting the tour with considerable interest and surprise. She knew Brittany's parents were concerned about her and always wanted her to do what was best for her health and happiness, but she hadn't known they were so worried about her dancing. She definitely wanted to hear more about the response to Brittany breaking up with her and "spiraling" after, but as Brittany goes to get the phone, she is distracted. Leaning close to her near the receiver, despite the reassurance from Brittany not to be nervous, her stomach knots, and her mouth feels dry as she clears her throat.

"Katherine? Hi. Um, it's Santana."

When Santana's voice came out, it sounded garbled and nervous and Brittany grinned, rolling her eyes and sliding her hand around Santana's back where they sat side by side, silently reassuring her, even though her parents were Santana's biggest fans and she had absolutely nothing to be nervous about in the slightest.

"Oh Santana! It's so good to hear your voice, dear. How is everything?" Her mother's enthusiasm gushed through the phone, and Brittany had no doubt she had her pouty smile, the face she made whenever she thought something was adorable. "I'm so glad Brittany's back in New York with you and your friends," Katherine continued, even though she'd never met Kurt and Rachel, only heard of them from Santana and Brittany gossiping about them at the kitchen table after school.

"Brittany tells me you're still in school, are you still going for business?" Katherine asked, remembering Santana's focus from years ago even though Brittany hadn't brought it up since she'd returned to New York. Katherine quieted, listening to Santana fill her in on her life, appropriately making noises on the other end where applicable. "Hold on sweetheart, let me tell Tom you're on the phone."

There was momentarily silence on the other end of the phone and Brittany shot Santana a grin before her dad's voice came on the line. "Hey kid, how ya doin?" He sounded his usual cheerfully quiet self, and Brittany could picture him in his office, speaking to them while Katherine no doubt hovered over the chair.

Santana leaned into Brittany's hand even as she also leaned forward, unconsciously wanting to be closer to the phone as though it would also bring her closer to Katherine. When Katherine spoke to her with as much warmth and enthusiasm as she always had, Santana broke out into a smile, her stomach settling, and reached to squeeze Brittany's hand on impulse as she relaxed.

"I'm really glad to hear you too. It's been forever, right? I think once the city sucks you in, you can't escape."

She confirmed that she was still attending for business, adding that she minored in English and was thinking about writing for a hobby or possibly career. As she voiced this out loud to someone other than Brittany for the first time, she realized she really liked the idea even more as she considers it over time. She started to tell Katherine about some of the weirder sights she had seen in the city recently, but when she interrupted her to put Brittany's father on, Santana's smile only grew more.

She had always loved the way he still called her kid, even after she had a boob job, graduated high school, and now was well into her twenties. Something about Brittany's dad made her feel calm and safe, in the same way that her mom made her feel accepted and enjoyed.

"Hi Tom. I'm okay, doing the adult life thing, sort of. It might be a little stalled since I had to restart as a student, that kind of makes me a semi adult."

Brittany was happy to sit by and look on, not feeling the need to interject into the conversation. She talked to her parents frequently enough, and knew they were both thrilled to hear from Santana, letting Santana soak up all the love and attention she didn't normally get. She squeezed Santana's hand back reassuringly, watching her visibly relax at her parents' voices.

"Well that counts as a full adult, all the best people go back to school y'know." Her dad pointed out dryly, causing Brittany to roll her eyes, hearing her mother scoff across the phone, an obvious joke as Brittany's dad had gone back to school to become a professor. "Glad to hear you're doing well, it's great to hear from you girls." Always a man of few, but genuine words, her father passed the phone back to her mom.

"That's wonderful to hear about English. You were always so good in English too." Katherine gushed. Brittany's dad had often helped Santana study for math and science, but she'd never really needed much help with English, seeming to nail papers and reports even when she wrote them the night before. Katherine recalled that easily, as easily as if Santana had been her own daughter, remember the two of them doing homework together nearly daily after school.

"Well, hon, I'm not sure what your plans are but we'd love to see you next time Brittany comes home." Katherine's voice took on a sarcastic, motherly tone at the end, clearly indirectly admonishing her daughter.

"I told you I'd be coming home in a few weeks!" Brittany whined beside Santana, rolling her eyes at her mother's reminder, hearing Katherine laugh on the other end of the phone.

"Even if you can't come for a visit Santana, please send my globetrotting daughter." Katherine continued as if Brittany hadn't even spoken, earning a grumble from Brittany.

"I'll let you girls go, but don't be a stranger, please. You too, Santana. And make sure you're resting that knee, Britt" Katherine reminded.

"I am, Mom," Brittany chirped before the two of them said their goodbyes to her parents, both of them grinning ear to ear. It warmed her heart to see how happy Santana was talking to them, and she reminded herself to call her parents more often so that Santana could talk to them. "See?" She asked, "Told you they missed you."

Santana rolled her eyes but still laughed a little at Tom's little joke, and she speaks sincerely to him. "You too, Tom. Talk to you later."

When Katherine admonished Brittany, Santana's dimples came into view with her grin. She giggled, feeling warm and happy with the invitation and the obvious sincerity behind it of wanting to see her.

"I don't know, maybe. I don't really have anything too major coming up but I haven't been to Lima in a while, and I'm not really sure what my parents would have planned."

That's her way of saying without saying she doesn't want to have to ask her parents if she can stay with them, and she doesn't want to feel like she's butting in on Brittany's visit. It might have been fine when they were kids, but surely it was different now when they were adults and not even officially in a relationship. Even if they did live together. And had kissed.

Okay, not going down that confusing road.

As Santana told Katherine goodbye, already missing them but still smiling as they hung up, she slipped her arms around Brittany and gave her a tight hug of thanks.

"Your parents are so awesome. Maybe you better not let me talk to them too much or I'll be the favorite again."

She pulled back, looking at Brittany more seriously, and dropped her eyes to the other woman's knees. "What happened to your knee? Is it still bad? You didn't tell me and I can't see it when you teach."

She paused, hesitating, then took the plunge. "Is that what you meant when you said you spiraled for a while? Your knee? You were scared you would really mess it up?"

This feels dangerous, almost, talking about the time right after their breakup, but Santana needs to know what happened to Brittany, what could still be affecting her that she hadn't said.

Brittany felt so much lighter after they hung up with her parents - they really were the best. She accepted Santana's tight hug of thanks, rubbing her back in a silent your welcome. "They love you," She promised easily, laughing at Santana's joke. "Oh I'm pretty sure you were always the favorite," Brittany insisted, going along with their long running joke that Katherine Pierce's favorite daughter was Santana, with her biological daughters coming in at second and third place.

When Santana pulled back, she said exactly what Brittany thought she was going to say. She knew Santana wouldn't miss the comment her mother had made about her knee, nor the comments Brittany had casually made about how much her parents worried in the wake of the breakup. "This one," Brittany patted her left knee, knowing they were about to breach territory they hadn't yet really stepped into. "It felt like my meniscus was pulling for awhile on tour, which sucks if you tear it." Brittany explained, lifting her leg a little and drawing a line up the back of her knee to show Santana where the tendon ran. "It's not as bad as ACL but it's still annoying." Brittany, for a dancer, had gotten off relatively free of injury for the duration of her career, and it was irritating to her that she was potentially developing something.

"It hasn't actually hurt since I stopped tour," Brittany promised, "I guess suddenly going from dancing 12 hours to 0 hours was the best thing I could do for it," She shrugged. "Even with the studio, I don't really struggle with it that badly," Brittany promised, not wanting Santana to think she was keeping it from her. "I pushed myself too hard on tour and didn't stop when I should've," Brittany explained.

"I threw myself into tour because if I was dancing all the time than I had to think about something else other than you. If I was dancing I couldn't be worrying about you and if you were okay and if you were happy or if you'd met someone." Brittany said, the truth pouring out of her. It seemed like there was no way for her to explain it without telling Santana the whole truth, and she couldn't lie to her, nor did she want to.

"I just was so sad after I left you." Brittany said, chewing on her lip. "I mean, at the time I didn't regret it because I really did want you to be happy without me and to find someone who made you happy and could be there for you." Brittany said honestly. "So I thought I was doing the right thing and I was willing to be sad if it meant you got to be happy and be loved by someone who could do a better job than me, but I was really sad for awhile." She confessed, glancing at Santana to gauge her reaction. "I know I don't have a reason…to be sad, because I was the one who broke up with you I just, I thought I was doing the right thing for you."

Santana listened solemnly as Brittany explained, reaching out and tracing the same path that Brittany had shown her with light, almost protective touch. She wished, touching where Brittany felt pain, that she could take it on herself in a touch, or that she could heal it away from her. She kept her hand lightly on the affected knee as she lifted her eyes back to Brittany's, continuing to listen closely as Brittany went on.

She hated thinking of Brittany, feeling frightened and in pain, worried that she could badly hurt herself or even cripple herself at any moment. She hated to think of her pushing her body past its limits and not stopping even when it protested. She hated thinking of Brittany coming anywhere close to ignoring her body and its needs- as Santana did to her own.

Her expression stilled, growing even more serious as she heard Brittany begin to open up for the first time about what it had been like for her after breaking up with Santana. It hurt to hear about it, both for herself, knowing how much it had devastated her to have Brittany leave her, and to hear how much it had hurt Brittany too. Thinking of Brittany worrying about her, wondering if she was with someone else- which Santana couldn't be, couldn't bring herself to be close enough to someone to want them without wanting to cry or run- it was hard, so very hard to sit through and imagine. She needed to know- she needed the truth of what had happened, of why Brittany had done as she had. But it still made her chest grow tight and her eyes darken with her own sadness to listen.

How could Brittany think that someone else would be better for her than Brittany was? No one had ever seen Brittany in the way that Santana had, no one had ever tried to understand her as she had, and it seemed impossible for anyone to ever love her with the ease and strength that had come to Brittany so naturally. She had loved Santana before Santana could even acknowledge to herself that she loved Brittany, and she had waited for Santana to catch up. How could she ever think Santana could just move on from her, that she could just decide to love someone else instead?

"It wasn't the right thing," she said with some difficulty, trying to swallow around the lump rising in her throat. "I didn't want to love someone else or be loved by someone else. No one will ever be the same to me as you were. As you are. No one will ever love me in the way you did. You're the one I wanted Brittany, you're the one I needed. Just you. And I hate to think that you really thought I could, or that I might want to eventually. Because I didn't. I don't."

She swallowed again, her hand stilling on Brittany's leg. "I hate to think of you being sad like that and thinking you would be sad to make me happy. Neither of us were happy. I was...I was so miserable," she said with more emphasis on the last word than she had quite intended, blinking back tears and taking a deep breath to push them back. "I was just...I don't even want to think about how much it hurt. It hurt, Brittany. I felt like you didn't want me anymore, you were picking your new big life over me instead of making me part of it with you. I felt like you just gave up on me. Gave up on us."

She rubbed at her eyes, still fighting to keep from letting any tears come. "I can't believe you thought I could be happy without you. I have never had one day, not one single day, where I was happy if it wasn't a day I was with you."

"It doesn't hurt, not anymore," Brittany repeated as Santana reached under her leg and traced the same pattern, as if to reassure Santana that she wasn't in pain anymore. "I guess it just needed rest." Brittany felt the warmth of Santana's hand against her leg. "Amazing how things can heal when you give your body what it needs," She said softly, the statement meaning so much more than just referring to Brittany's knee. It applied to her heart too, both of theirs, their broken hearts that felt not-so-broken now that they were back together.

Her injured knee had only been the tip of the iceberg when it came to things she'd been struggling with during those months, and Brittany knew she had to tell Santana, even if it felt a little embarrassing to admit. It felt like peeling back her most intimate layer, this conversation was intimate even for them, and Brittany couldn't be certain how Santana would react, mostly because she knew everything she was saying were things she fully believed but not necessarily things that had been true. "I know," Brittany said quickly when Santana pointed out that it wasn't the right thing. "I know it wasn't." She quieted again, letting Santana speak, wanting to hear what she had to say just as much as she wanted to explain herself.

Hearing how much Santana didn't want to be loved by anyone else hurt to hear, but Brittany stayed silent, listening to what she had to say, her own eyes welling up with tears as Santana explained that it felt like she didn't want her anymore and gave up on them, when in reality, Brittany spent every single day missing her. She sniffled, a few tears rolling over her lash line, Brittany quick to brush them away with the back of her hand, watching Santana do the same to her eyes to keep her own tears from falling. As Santana voiced her disbelief at the fact that Brittany had once though she could be happy without her, Brittany had to agree. She had no idea how she'd once thought that, especially since she'd been back with Santana for weeks and had been hearing how much Santana had struggled during the breakup, even before the assault.

"I- I don't know," Brittany shrugged honestly. "I just knew the way we were living, it was so selfish of me to do that to you." She confessed. "I felt like the entire world would think I was crazy if I turned down any of the tours, my teachers, my parents, you," She added, knowing Santana would've never once agreed to let Brittany skip out on a huge career move like that. "But every time I came back you just seemed so sad and lonely and I knew you were stay up late only to talk to me on the phone and just waiting for moments we could talk." Brittany said, "It felt like I was doing the most selfish thing in the world by manipulating you like that and coming back to visit only to upset you when I had to leave again. I-I didn't want you to live like that, sad and alone and without me. I, I hoped that after awhile, it wouldn't hurt so bad anymore and you'd find someone who could love you better than me and who could be there for you all the time and hold you every night and make sure you were okay," She swiped at another tear. Santana wasn't selfish at all, but when she loved, she needed attention and affection often, and one of the worst things about tour was knowing Santana wasn't getting the love and support she needed.

"It killed me to let you go I-I thought I had maybe just lost the love of my life but I," She shook her head, "I thought I was doing the right thing for you and giving you a chance to find someone who could love you better." Brittany explained softly. "I know it was wrong, now, hearing it from you and Kurt and Rachel and everything, but on tour the only way I could get through the day was convincing myself it was the right thing to do for your happiness." Brittany swallowed hard. "I'm so, so sorry Santana," She pressed her lips together and shook her head. "You don't have to forgive me, and I know I broke your trust by leaving, but I'm so sorry I did."

Listening to Brittany's reasoning, as wrong as it had been, Santana took in the true, unselfish, and loving intent behind the decision for the break up. It had never occurred to her that Brittany thought of her touring as selfish towards Santana, as unfair and unloving towards her. It was true that it had been incredibly hard to be separated from her, to have to miss her and wait for her and try to fit herself into Brittany's schedule from afar, but Santana would do it all again a thousand times if it made Brittany happy, if it was what Brittany wanted or needed to follow her dreams.

Watching Brittany's tears break free triggered a few more of Santana's, and she reached for Brittany's hand, squeezing hard. She sniffed, trying to pull her thoughts together, trying to be as honest and real as Brittany was being, as honest and real as she deserved.

"I just...I just wanted you to be happy too," she choked, clutching onto Brittany's hand. "I though dancing was what made you happy. I didn't want you to give it up for me, even if it was so, so hard to be apart from you. I wanted you to always follow your dreams, and I was so proud of you for being so amazing. I'm still so proud of you, because you still are. But I didn't want you to cut me loose to do it. I wanted you to have your dreams, but I wanted you too. I wanted to be part of your dreams."

Her tears fell a little more steadily then as she confessed this, and she looked at Brittany with her heart in her eyes as she answered.

"I...I do forgive you leaving," she said slowly, almost astonished to realize it was true. "Because of why. I didn't know why, and we were both wrong. And I do trust you. I just...it's going to be so much worse now if you leave me again. I know we're not together, I know you don't want that now, but it's still going to be so, so hard if you leave again. I-I don't know if I can...Brittany, please don't leave again," she whispered, tears falling freely now without her trying to hide or stop them as she looked her straight in the eyes. "Please don't do that to me. I don't know what this is here and I don't care as long as you're still here. Please be here."

As they sat there on the bed, now cross legged and facing each other, their knees pressed together, Brittany could see the sadness and loneliness she'd caused written across Santana's face, her tears washing away and replacing a new emotion every few seconds - desperation, abandonment, betrayal, heartbreak. She'd caused Santana to feel all those things, after once promising she'd never hurt her.

When Santana reached for her hand, she reached for Santana's free hand holding both of them in her own, her thumbs skating across the back of Santana's knuckles, sniffling occasionally. "Dancing does make me happy," Brittany agreed, "But I don't need to be touring or in LA or working a ton of jobs to be happy with it," She explained, exhaling. "I- I'm fine with teaching, I love teaching, and dance isn't worth it if it keeps me away from all the people I love. I thought I was the crazy one for thinking about not doing the tour - I knew my parents and you and everyone were so happy for me." Brittany confessed. "And I liked tour for awhile but I couldn't do both, I couldn't be yours and be on tour, it wasn't fair." She insisted, knowing Santana would never say that, but knowing it was true. "You couldn't have been part of my dreams because it was ruining your life, San." Brittany shook her head, thinking back to how often Santana would get upset on the phone, how exhausted she sounded, how hard they clung to each other when they were together.

"But tour wasn't even my dream." She said, "It probably should be, and I know it seems like it would be for anyone else but…" Brittany trailed off, "You are my dream. And I think I always knew that but I accepted tour anyway because everyone would've been shocked if I turned it down." She explained. "And I didn't know how hard it would be for us, but I knew if I quit you would blame it on yourself." Brittany pointed out, revealing yet another blade in their multi-edged problem.

She had known back then, if she'd walked away from the tour, Santana would've been upset with her, would've pushed her to do it even if it was destroying them. She knew they'd always diverged on priorities when it came to work and success, and quitting tour would've been a blowout argument itself.

She was shocked that Santana forgave her so quickly, almost feeling more guilty - knowing she always seemed to get special treatment when it came to Santana. Santana was easily hurt and guarded on top of that - if someone ever hurt her, it was easy for Santana to put her walls and difficult, if not impossible, for her to trust them fully again. She knew she'd hurt her in a big way, the worst way, and while she knew Santana loved her, seeing it displayed so plainly like that made Brittany's throat tighten.

"I won't." Her voice was surprisingly clear for how hard she was fighting to keep her composure. Simple, two words. She didn't need to expand, didn't need to elaborate. Brittany was determined. She never wanted to leave Santana again. She'd just been awarded a second chance with her when most people weren't even given a first.

Letting go of one of Santana's hands, she cupper Santana's jaw, swiping her thumb under her eye to catch the tears, rivulets sliding down her own cheeks at that point. "I want to be with you." She said resolutely, dismissing Santana's tearful claim that she knew Brittany didn't want that right now. "But we need to take it one step at a time. We need to give it time, San. You were just in the hospital."

She didn't like it either, and she knew that her basically lunging to kiss Santana yesterday wasn't exactly giving it time, but she knew they weren't in the clear - far from it. They had to figure out therapy and get Santana healthy and in a good place before they could dump all the complexities of a relationship on top of everything they were dealing with.

"But I'm right here," She added softly, rubbing Santana's cheek with her thumb. "Right here."

Santana sniffled several times, trying and failing to stop crying. She shifted closer to Brittany, letting her legs come more fully against Brittany's, and focused on Brittany's emotional voice and eyes, on the hands cradling her own. She tried to listen and really hear what Brittany was saying about the tour, about how she had felt pressured and that it wasn't even her own dream. It's hard for her to understand, but she tries, because she knows Brittany is telling her truth.

When Brittany tells her that she, Santana, is her dream, Santana's eyes glitter with emotion, and she sobs, her tears partly from surprise and joy now as she stammers, "You, you're my dream too. You always have been."

She nodded, still teary, as Brittany promised her that she wouldn't leave. She can tell from the resolute, steady way that she spoke and looked her in the eye with purpose that Brittany meant it. As Brittany cupped her face, gently wiping her tears as they continue to emerge steadily, Santana closed her eyes, soaking in the security of Brittany's promise and the loving touch she was providing. Her chest hitching, she nodded again, her words coming out wavery and unsteady as she accepted Brittany's conditions.

"O-okay. T-time. But you'll b-be here."

She can't hear that too much, be reassured of that too much right now. That promise feels like all she could ever want or need.

Brittany laughed tearful at the relief that broke across Santana's face when she assured her she was her dream, it was something that was so clear to Brittany, so obvious, but she knew that for Santana, she could never be reassured enough. She watched her eyes flutter shut, vulnerable and raw and open and trusting, ripping her own heart out and giving it to Brittany without a second though, Brittany knew she'd never been as in love with Santana as she was right then, and she silently vowed, since probably the millionth time since she'd been back, that she'd be there forever and, even though Santana trusted her, she'd continue to prove herself forever, because that's exactly what Santana deserved.

"That's right, I'll be here." She repeated , a familiar back and forth that she'd done with Santana a hundred times before.

Santana had always done that, repeated things like she needed to keep convincing herself, and Brittany thought it was adorable, but also in moments like this, heartbreaking. It was childlike, in a way, so pure an innocent, the way Santana said things out loud like she needed to try the words in her own mouth, like she needed to confirm them even though Brittany had said them just moments ago. She'd seen her do it both with good things and bad - when Santana got praise in class or met with a teacher, she told Brittany repeatedly what he'd said, and Brittany had even caught her whispering it to herself before. "He said my work was great and he could see how hard I worked on." At the same time, just as in that moment, she repeated comfort to herself when she was upset, usually comfort that came from Brittany's own mouth.

Slipping her hand from Santana's, she leaned forward, sliding her arms under Santana's and wrapping them around her back, resting her chin on her shoulder, their chests pressed together in their embrace.

"I wish I'd never left you." She whispered, her own voice thick with emotions. "And I wish I'd been here when it happened to you, and all the days after." It was a silent confession, how guilty Brittany felt that she hadn't been there when Santana's assault took place, the thing that had eaten her up for months, thinking that maybe, if she'd stayed and never broken up with her, she never would've been in that bathroom to begin with.

Santana gave a still watery smile back at Brittany's laugh, lightened by the sound of it, reassured by her continued repetition of her intention to be there. She knew that her face had to be a complete mess of tears and probably some snot too at this point, but she doesn't want to let go of Brittany's hands long enough to try to clean it. Just as Brittany had known she would and needed, she repeated the words to herself in her head, giving them a familiar, reassuring cadence and rhythm to settle with her own heartbeat.

I'll be here. She would be here. Brittany would be here.

When Brittany pulled her hand away, she started to give a protesting whine, but relaxed when Brittany pulled her closer against her, hooking her chin over Santana's shoulder and holding her in a tight hug to her chest. Santana closed her eyes, her heart wrenching with equal parts grief and validation when Brittany whispered her regrets, tears continuing to spill, but they feel almost cleansing now, less pained and more necessary for moving forward out of her sadness. She gripped Brittany hard, her palms flat against Brittany's shoulder blades, her still leaking eyes buried in Brittany's neck as she whispered back tremulously.

"I wish you hadn't too. I wanted you so much, but I didn't think I was allowed to anymore. I didn't think I'd ever see you again, and it was the worst part of it all. I didn't think you...I didn't...I thought...if you didn't want me before, why would you want me now? Now that I was different, and worse, and...just way more messed up? After what he did- when you could have someone else, anyone else?"

This comes out in a barely audible tone, the words cracking and naked with the thoughts she had never shared before, that felt too big and dark and devastating to barely think. She tightened her grasp of Brittany, feeling slightly lighter for having said it, for having unburdened this and knowing now that Brittany would deny it as untrue.

Hearing Santana agree with her made another few tears slip down Santana's cheeks, knowing that she went through that time wishing Brittany was there, missing her and needing her while Brittany had no idea. She felt like she'd failed Santana, failed her like her parents and "friends" and other people she'd trusted. She'd spent a decade being there for Santana through everything, school, Glee, being outed, moving to the city, going back to school. And then, after all of the those promises. She'd left. She almost felt like she didn't deserve to be forgiven at all, although she knew Santana could never hold it against her.

As Santana continued, Brittany squeezed her even tighter, stunned by the confession Santana had made. "Santana," She breathed, her voice just a whisper. "You're not worse, I'll always want you," Brittany promised, reeling in the wake of her confession. She almost asked how could you think that but then realized she was partially the cause of Santana's thought process, after all, she'd walked away. "I don't want anyone else," She said softly, pulling away gently so she could look at Santana, her hands on her sides, legs still pressed together. "You're not worse and I could never want anyone else, San, because - because I'm in love with you." She blurted the words, her eyes locked with Santana's, their eyes both glassy and teary.

Brittany knew she'd never stopped loving Santana. She'd thought about when she'd tell her again, picturing it being after a great achievement or romantic night, but this, maybe this was what love was after all, messy and tear filled and heartbreaking and raw. Intimate and broken and magical all at the same time. "I've always loved you and I've never stopped and I don't think I ever could." She shook her head, as if to prove her point. "The only one I could ever want is you."

Santana's breath hitched when Brittany squeezed her, and she hid her face further in the crook of Brittany's neck in response to the horror of Brittany's tone. She weakly resisted Brittany pulling back but then lifted her face, her eyes red and blood-shot, her lips trembling as she looked back at Brittany. The tears in Brittany's eyes, the careful, gentle way Brittany held onto her, as though careful of breaking her, further disarmed Santana emotionally, and she listened, hanging onto every word.

You're not worse. I'll always want you. I don't want anyone else. I'll never want anyone else.

I'm in love with you. I'm in love with you. I'm in love with you, and I've never stopped.

Santana knew Brittany loved her; she had always known, although for months she had feared otherwise. She had been reminded and reassured time and time again from the moment she first lay eyes on her in the loft, convincing herself of Brittany's reality, and stepped back into her arms. She knew it, and yet hearing it said aloud for the first time in what felt like lifetimes cracked her open, raw and broken with the intensity of feeling what she had needed so badly to be told in no uncertain terms. Santana's mostly soft crying became a torrent of sobs, and she reached to hold Brittany's face in both her hands, touching her with the careful, awed touch of someone cradling something fragile and priceless beyond description.

"I love you," she stammered back, her words breaking and shredded, but although she is crying, her mouth quivers with a near smile with her words. "I love you too. I love you too. I just want you too."

She watched Santana's face as the words processed, always loving the way Santana was so emotionally open with her, her eyes wide and expressive, her walls down, just feeling. Brittany laughed when Santana sobbed, knowing it was a sob of happiness and relief, the sound bringing a fresh round of tears to Brittany's eyes. She covered one of Santana's on her cheeks with her hand, reveling in the warmth, of their emotional intimacy in that moment.

Just as she knew Santana knew Brittany loved her, Brittany knew Santana loved her, but hearing her say it after everything, after Santana had been hurt so badly - hearing that she was still so capable of love, love for her made her heart thump, hearing Santana say it again and again, each time sending the butterflies in her stomach flurrying around. She grinned, seeing that Santana too was smiling through her cries. The day had been such a roller coaster of emotions, and so much truth had come out unexpectedly, so many words the two of them usually kept close to their hearts.

Leaning forward, she kissed her again, gently. Where her kiss on the couch was hungry and animalistic, this kiss was caressing, soft. She tasted Santana's tears and her own, mingling together where their cheeks and mouth's touched. The kiss was chaste, but so full of love and longing, as if Brittany was trying to press her love for Santana against her mouth. When she pulled away to breathe, she stayed just as close, her eyelashes tickling Santana's cheek.

"Thank you for telling me all of that," She whispered, her eyes flicking up to meet Santana's, so close to her face she could see all the different threads of brown in her eyes which from afar just seemed dark.

Santana's eyes opened into Brittany's kiss, wide with surprise and still bright with tears, but glistening with her longing and love. She kissed back after a moment, just as gently, with a sweetness to the gesture that was a return of love and a promise. A promise of forgiveness, of her continued view of Brittany as the same person she had always been in love with, the same person she had always needed and wanted beyond any other. A promise of wanting to be more, wanting to be worth Brittany continuing to love her back.

Santana swallowed when Brittany kept her face close to hers, almost cheeks to cheek, watching her response. The kiss has stalled her tears almost in full, and she looks back at her through glittering eyes, taking a shuddering breath, and nods jerkily. Then she leans forward, wrapping her arms tight around Brittany's' ribcage, and molds her body into hers, not quite on her lap but close as she seeks to match her heartbeat into close rhythm with Brittany's.

Brittany grinned, wrapping her arms tight around Santana in return, the two of them easily fitting into the dips and planes of each other. She couldn't believe that they were there right then, sitting in an apartment Brittany could never have predicted having, back in the city Brittany never thought she'd return to, with the girl she thought she'd lost forever. She'd resigned herself to the sidelines of Santana's life, feeling like it was only the day before that she'd been stalking their friends on social media, trying so desperately to catch a glimpse of Santana in a photo, trying to convince herself she was happy and okay.

Now, she had Santana in her arms, and while she wasn't okay just yet, Brittany could help her. She could be there for her and love her and give Santana all the things she once failed to give her. She knew at one time, Santana would've given up everything in her life to help Brittany follow her dream, but now, Brittany could be there for Santana while they built their dreams together.

"It's been a day, huh?" She said with a smile, lifting one hand to wipe the mostly-dry tears from her cheeks. The past 72 hours had been exhausting for both of them, with Santana being hospitalized and then the drama of discovering the text thread. But in the middle of all of that, the two of them had shared beautiful moments, and grown even closer than Brittany had thought possible.

Her arms wrapped around Santana, she leaned back until she was laying against the pillows, Santana on top of her, grinning her silly grin up at her. "I like how you stay here with me now," She said, raising one hand to brush the wisps of hair back off Santana's face. "I miss you whenever you're in class or not with me, y'know." She promised, wanting her to know that as hard as their small separations where for Santana, Brittany missed her just as much during that time.

Her breathing and heart rate slowly evening out as they sought to come in sync with Brittany's, regulating with hers as they always seemed to automatically when Santana was close, Santana nodded slightly in response to Brittany's question. It had been a day, all right. A long, highly emotional, completely draining day. Santana's body felt wrung out from the turmoil of all the intense feelings she had just experienced in the past hour, and she let herself go heavy and limp on top of Brittany as Brittany fell back against the bed, drawing Santana with her.

Santana swallowed, adjusting her arms so they weren't trapped under Brittany's back, and instead moved them so they lightly draped up her sides, her hands cupping the balls of Brittany's shoulders. She smiled a little shakily but genuinely when Brittany brushed her hair back from her face, then more widely and fully when Brittany told her that she liked her staying with her, that she missed her when she wasn't with her. Santana reveled in this, warmth at this reassuring continued validation of Brittany's love and desire for her filling her chest, and her dimples briefly flickered into view as she nodded in response.

"I liked it here too," she said softly. "Staying with you. It feels better. It feels calmer and right. Safe."

She rubbed her hand over the back of Brittany's neck, tracing circles in her skin. "You miss me?" Her smile gets a little bigger, awed at the idea that when she gets anxious and finds it difficult to leave, maybe Brittany, to some extent, feels the same way. "Wow." Her eyes are round and bright and almost wondering, resembling a child marveling at a new and fascinating idea.