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

37. Chapter 37

By the late morning of day three, Santana has fully gotten into the spirit of relaxation and vacation. She has come to realize that Brittany's plan of a lack of plan was exactly what she needed to feel comfortable and calm. Although she had been concerned about people coming in contact with them and disturbing her need for privacy with Brittany and her feeling of safety, they had yet to see anything but wildlife, and that had further reassured her. Santana had been restless the first night, having difficulty getting to sleep in an unfamiliar bed and room, and had needed to check that all the doors and windows were locked several times. When she had finally drifted off, her sleep had been restless and broken with anxiety dreams, and she had been tired and reluctant to wake the next morning. Coffee, cuddles, and showers had coaxed her around, and she had managed to enjoy a day full of leisurely walks, swimming, sunning, and exploring, as well as plenty of time relaxing in the cabin together.

The second night she had gone to sleep more easily and only awakened occasionally, and the third night, her sleep was deep and unbroken. She awakened the third day feeling playful and happy, and she ate more than she normally would be comfortable with at breakfast with only a little need for reassurance. She teased and touched Brittany in the shower, showing more ease in her own skin than usual as well, and actually thought for a fleeting moment when she glanced her naked body in the mirror that she looked, if not as thin as she might like, "okay." For Santana, that was a first, and she smiled as she brushed her teeth and let Brittany help her with her hair.

They had decided to sunbathe by the pool for the late morning, with hazy plans of a picnic lunch after, and as Santana stretched out on her stomach on a towel, skin slick with the suntan lotion Brittany had applied on her, she sighed, head pillowed in her arms. Eyes sliding over to Brittany, she admired Brittany's exposed skin openly, glowing in the knowledge that this gorgeous woman was hers, that she actually wanted Santana back.

As a thought occurred to her, typical of Santana pre assault, very unlike her post, she smiled to herself, then looked around, making sure that as had always been the case before, there was no one around them. Then she said to Brittany, "You know, we can't get a real, full tan with bathing suits. Far too many tan lines. If we really want to look good, we'd be naked right now."

Although their first day in the lake had been silly and giddy and happy, Brittany continued to go about their vacation with very little expectation for what she thought would happen. She wasn't naive enough to think that Santana would never feel any apprehension just because they'd had a good day in the lake, and she was careful to reassure her even when she wasn't feeling anxious. More than anything, she didn't want Santana to get upset with herself if she got anxious after having a good day, knowing Santana viewed any kind of backsliding as moving backwards in progress, even though Brittany promised she was always moving forward.

She was patient with her that night, letting Santana be in charge of locking everything up and trailing her as she double checked everything, leaving the bathroom light on and a lamp in the living room on in hopes of making sleeping somewhere unfamiliar less scary for her. The night was hard, but not as hard as Brittany had once feared, and Santana, once awake, was fairly easy to calm. She spent the night holding her, brushing her fingers through her hair and reminding her that they had nothing planned to do and that sleeping late was okay. They got through it, as they always did, any by the second and third days, Santana's sleep was no longer something that was an issue for them. Her eating had even improved, Brittany was happy to observe, and by the third day she ate breakfast almost completely independently of Brittany's reassurance, a silent sign that her nerves had dissipated and she was relaxed enough to eat.

Brittany had let Santana cover her in sunscreen, sticking her tongue out at how thorough Santana was, always extra vigilant about making sure Brittany didn't get a sunburn, even though the sun wasn't too strong that day. She did the same to Santana, more for the opportunity to run her hands over Santana's body rather than to protect her from a sunburn. When they were younger, Santana had always hated how dark she'd gotten in the summer, but Brittany had always loved it, her eyes raking over Santana's body as they stretched out on towels on the deck.

Her eyes had been shut as she laid on her back, Santana lying on her stomach, when Santana spoke. Brittany's first thought was - wanky, and her second thought was - what? Not because the statement was out of character, but because it was so true to character, true to Santana, to a part of her Brittany hadn't seen in so long. It took her a second to respond, but she did quickly, not wanting Santana to think what she'd said had been weird. Brittany laughed, cracking one eye open and turning her head to look at Santana. "Wanky," She teased, voicing her first thought, "Is that a challenge?" Brittany raised an eyebrow. Pre-assault, Brittany took everything Santana said to be a dare, amusing Santana and usually simultaneously giving her a heart attack when she did something that could possibly result in injury. After, Brittany had stopped, not wanting to scare her any more than she already was, their playful banter swiftly replaced with gentleness.

Sitting up, Brittany reached back instantly, pulling the tie on the back of her bikini and pulling it over her head, freeing the garment from her body and leaving her topless, clad only in bikini bottoms. "Problem solved," She grinned, lying back down easily. After a beat, she turned her head toward Santana, her hands resting on her stomach, "You don't have to take anything off, I was just playing," She reminded, reaching her hand out to brush it along Santana's bare side. Between the two of them, Brittany had always been far more comfortable naked, something she'd tried to downplay following the assault and even now, wanting Santana to wear what she felt comfortable in at the time and not be influenced by her.

Santana's eyes widened with surprise at Brittany's response, using the phrase, her phrase, that she hadn't heard in over a year now. She broke out in a short but genuine laugh, dimples popping with her enjoyment of their banter, and raised both eyebrows back in response to Brittany.

"Nope," she said decisively, popping the p in the word. "Not a challenge. A dare."

It felt good to talk so lightly and playfully with Brittany, to have Brittany respond as though she were no longer so fragile or easily upset. It felt good to know that this was true, that they could say and even do things with sexual implications and not always, every time, have it result in Santana feeling scared or triggered.

She had barely issued the upping of stakes of Brittany before Brittany was removing her bikini top, baring her already nearly naked skin even further to the summer sun. Santana's pupils dilated, and she swallowed, not even attempting to look away from the visual feast of Brittany's pale skin.

One hand drifted forward on impulse, lightly stroking up Brittany's side and ghosting along the outer edge of her breast. When Brittany met her gaze, gently touching Santana's side as well and reminding her that she didn't have to also get naked, Santana paused, briefly torn between staying safe, staying covered, and going with the impulsive fun she had been riding moments before. Her hand stilled against Brittany's skin, and then she shook her head abruptly, making a choice.

"No. I want to. I'm going to."

Saying it out loud to convince and embolden herself as much as to inform Brittany, she sat up, undoing her own bikini top with hands that only slightly shook and letting it drop. She sat up still, almost defiant, her breasts bare to Brittany as she looked back at her. "Can't let you be the only one putting it all out there. Or having the better tan."

Brittany had laid back down, stretched back out, reveling in the feeling of the sun on her skin. She giggled when Santana clarified that it was, in fact, a dare, knowing that there were very few things that Brittany wouldn't do. Her eyelids fluttered when she felt Santana's hand reach out and tickle her side and the swell of her breast, a lazy smile stretching across her lips. "That feels good," She hummed, letting her eyes fall shut when Santana's hand stilled. She wanted to give her a beat, a moment to consider if she wanted to take her top off and a moment to reassure herself that Brittany meant what she said and that she didn't have to take her top off just because Brittany had so easily done it.

When Santana spoke, catching Brittany off guard, she lolled her head to the side, cracking one eye open to look at Santana, her eyebrows raised. "You are?" She asked, not in disbelief, but in confirmation. She watched patiently as Santana sat up, reaching behind herself and pulling the bikini strings, pulling her top off. When she turned to Brittany and made a comment about getting a better tan, Brittany rolled her eyes, pushing herself into a sitting position with a grin. She felt the familiar swell of pride for Santana in taking yet another step, a step that reminded her so vividly of something they would've done in the before times.

"You look so fucking hot," Brittany said, letting her eyes roam wantonly over Santana's body as they sat, tan and bare aside from a pair of bikini bottoms. She leaned over, her weight on the palm of her hand, her other hand sliding to cup Santana's jaw, turning her head so she could kiss her, their breasts grazing as she did so. She let her mouth rest softly against Santana's, Santana's eyelashes tickling her cheeks. "You are very, very brave," She hummed against her mouth, pressing another chaste kiss to her lips with a smile.

Pulling away playfully, she gave Santana a smirk before pushing herself to her feet, taking a step toward the pool before she jumped off the edge, sucking in a breath before her feet sliced through the water. The water was freezing but refreshing, submerging Brittany and cooling her sun-warmed skin. She was under the water for a few minutes before she reemerged, and when she did, she swam up to the edge of the pool, grinning at Santana from where she was treading water. "I had to cool off," She giggled before lifting her hand out of the water, flicking something toward Santana, landing near her with a wet thunk on the deck - her swimsuit bottoms.

Santana kept her chin lifted defiantly, eyes on Brittany as she took in the other woman's response to her gesture. She didn't want Britany to notice that despite her defensive position, her heart was beating faster, and she had to remind herself that she was safe, she was okay. It was just her and Brittany- that was all she had encountered in the past few days. Even if it wasn't, even if someone came up on them, she would hear them in enough time to be able to cover back up. This was going to be okay.

Santana's hardened expression melted into a soft smile when Brittany told her that she looked hot, softened further by Brittany's rare use of a swear word to accentuate. She leaned into the kiss, her forehead resting briefly against Brittany's as their lips slowly dragged apart, their breasts still touching, and her heartbeat calmed again at the affection and the affirmation from Brittany that she was brave. She had never been able to understand how she could do something that felt daring and strong and yet feel nervous and not fully sure while doing so.

Santana flinched and mock warded off any splashes of water from Brittany's jump, making a protesting noise at the cold hitting her warmed skin. When Brittany came back up, swimming to the edge near Santana and throwing her bikini bottoms beside her, Santana's eyes popped. She hadn't seen that one coming, although she should have. It would hardly be the first occasion Brittany had gone streaking or skinny dipping, and once she would have easily joined her. Now she hesitated, glancing around again, unsure.

She was safe. No one was there. But it was still another step that felt scary and new in the stretch of "now" versus "then."

Before she could overthink it, she abruptly slipped into the water beside Brittany, shrieking and grabbing onto her, practically climbing up Brittany's back and clutching at her as she reacted to the water's cold. Clinging to Brittany for several moments, shivering, heart pounding once more, Santana took several deep breaths, then slowly disentangled herself. With a slightly fumbling motion, she slid her own bikini bottoms off, tossing them beside Brittany's and making sure to keep her lower body well beneath the water. Holding the side of the pool beside Brittany, she met her eyes again, deliberate.

Brittany watched Santana's eye widen with surprise at her action, not for the first time in her relationship. It had been a while since she'd shocked Santana or caught her by surprise in a playful way - she knew now Santana was wound so much tighter and more easily upset and so she refrained from sneaking up behind her or loud noises, seeing the way Santana reacted to little environmental things. For the most part, Brittany's main goal had been to keep Santana calm and to not scare her in their day to day and knock her off her emotional precipice.

Slowly though, they'd been inching toward playing and teasing with each other, and Santana especially had shown Brittany just how calm and trusting she was when it came to her, how Brittany could push Santana in ways no one else could, how she could cross every single one of Santana's invisible lines. So Brittany hadn't hesitated to shed her bottoms, knowing nudity didn't make Santana as uncomfortable as it once had, and even if she didn't take her own bottoms off, she wouldn't feel uncomfortable if she didn't - Brittany had started sleeping naked much earlier than Santana had, and she'd always hammered in the point that Santana never, ever, had to match her pace in anything.

"You're too far," Brittany pouted, the water line bobbing around her shoulders and the tops of her breasts. Santana moved so fast she hardly registered it, but she grinned when Santana too jumped in the water, reaching for her arm automatically as she swam toward the surface, the smile on her face a mile wide. "Better" She hummed when Santana pressed herself against Brittany's back, Brittany grabbing her thighs to help hold her up and sinking them lower in the water so Santana didn't get cold.

When Santana disentangled herself from Brittany hesitantly, Brittany turned in the water so she was facing her, stepping a little closer in the water. She didn't expect Santana to slip her bottoms off, but when Santana fumbled underwater, it was clear that was what she was doing and Brittany's eyebrows shot up, watching Santana throw her own wet bikini bottoms on the deck. Automatically, she slid her gaze back to Santana, wanting to read her face. She'd done it thousands of times, during Glee, in the middle of arguments, in the hallways at school, in bed when she'd slip her hands into Santana's underwear, every time she came back from tour, and, more recently, just because. To her, Santana read like a book, and although words didn't come easy to Santana, Brittany could see everything she needed to see just by looking in her face.

And she saw a little bit of fear and anxiety, but more than that, she saw purpose- Santana was deliberate and determined, and that determination made Brittany's insides melt. Still, she wanted to touch her, to offer wordless reassurance, and she reached for her, sliding her arms around Santana's waist and pulling her toward her in the cool water, their breasts and hips and stomachs fitting together. "Are you okay?" She asked, their temples brushing, Santana slightly shorter than her as they stood in the water, even though Santana looked calm. "I've got you," She murmured, not because Santana necessarily needed to hear it, just because she wanted her to know.

Santana willingly and easily let her body slide through the water close against Brittany's bare skin, wrapping her arms around her neck and letting her body come into full frontal contact against hers. She kept eye contact with Brittany, her heart still not quite steady in its beating, her skin riddling with goosebumps as she gave a faint shiver. She isn't actually cold anymore from the water's temperature, but her body doesn't seem to realize this.

When Brittany asked her if she was okay, supporting her, holding her close, Santana saw the concerned attentiveness in her face and started to question her own actions. Brittany seemed so surprised, so not having expected Santana to have followed her in shedding all of her clothes, that she began to feel her relatively mild uncertainty and anxiety rise. She gripped Brittany's neck more tightly, hiding her face against her chest and letting as much of her body press into hers, keeping it from being able to be seen.

What was she doing? She was naked, out in the open. Even if there wasn't anyone around that she could see, someone could still come up. Was she crazy to be doing this? Was she tempting fate too much, was she asking for something to happen? Was she really as ready for this as she had thought at first?

"Maybe this wasn't a good idea," she said into Brittany's chest, her voice small. "Maybe I should put them back on. You think I should put them back on, don't you? You didn't think I should do this? You didn't think I was ready, maybe I'm not. How do I know it's okay?"

She peeked up at Brittany, looking up at her through her eyelashes, her expression vulnerable in its openness. "Sometimes I think I should be more scared than I am with things, and sometimes I think I shouldn't be. I don't know how to feel or where I should be with stuff like this anymore. It used to be...I just knew, everything was a no, everything was scary and everything was too much. What if now I think things are okay and I shouldn't think that? What if I go too far?"

Brittany felt the change in Santana before she saw it, feeling her body rigid and hard against Brittany's soft, the way Santana gently quaked against her, although Brittany knew it wasn't entirely from the water being too cold. She hummed when she felt Santana grip tighten on her neck, sliding her hands down to the backs of Santana's thighs and gently guiding them up and apart so that she was holding her in the water, supporting her near-weightless frame, her hands coming up to Santana's armpits to lift her closer against her before wrapping around her as Santana hid her face. "Shhh, you're thinking too fast," Brittany cooed patiently, running her hand over the back of Santana's wet hair. It wasn't the first time Brittany had told her that - Santana absolutely had a tendency to spiral out in her thoughts, to the point that Brittany could practically see it happening, the wheels turning much too fast in Santana's head while Brittany constantly tried to soothe her, knowing her role in Santana's life was to catch her where she was and hold her there, slow her down and calm her.

"I didn't mean to scare you," Brittany said honestly, her hand securely on Santana's back underneath the water. "I didn't think you weren't ready, I trust you." She promised softly, "I know that it's a big step and I thought you'd be a little nervous, but I didn't think you weren't ready," Brittany said, resting her head on top of Santana's where Santana had pressed her face against the skin of Brittany's chest. "You wouldn't have done it if you weren't ready," She pointed out, her statements slow and patient, meeting the rush of Santana's questions and flurry of words with solid, simple statements. "You know it's okay because some things, you just know." She knew that with Santana, this wasn't always so simple, and where were some things Santana overthought, despite Brittany's efforts to soothe her and calm her pace.

She picked her head up when she felt Santana lift hers, their eyes locking from mere inches apart, Brittany staring into the depths of Santana's eyes, able to see every shoot of caramel and fleck of amber against the dark brown of Santana's irises. She kept her face close, feeling the warmth of Santana's breath on her cheek, their foreheads and noses brushing. "You don't do things without thinking about them," She pointed out, knowing that most of the time, she was right. "And if you do do anything without thinking about it, it's because you trust me." Brittany hummed, holding Santana's gaze, seeing the slightly frantic look in Santana's eyes.

"The only person who knows how you feel about things is you. There's no right place to be and no place that you should or shouldn't be. If you think things are okay, then they are, I believe you." Brittany still had her hand on the back of Santana's head as Santana looked up at her, smoothing down her wet hair before it disappeared into the water that bobbed around her shoulders. "You know your limits, Babe," Brittany hushed, "If you didn't want to take your suit off, you wouldn't have. A month ago I know you wouldn't have, but today you did, there was a part of you that wanted to. It's okay if you want to do things and still feel a little bit afraid because it's new." She pointed out, dipping her head to give Santana a chaste, gentle kiss, holding her lips against her for a few seconds, as if she could press calm into Santana's mouth. "Just take a few breaths and think about how you feel," She mumbled against her mouth, "If you want to put them back on I'll get out and get your suit for you."

Santana kept her face against Brittany, letting herself soak in the comfort of her stroking hand against her head. Brittany's other hand, keeping Santana grounded, keeping her still against her, stayed firm against her back as Santana took in her words, beginning to slowly calm down as she took them in.

Brittany trusted her. Brittany trusted her to know herself, even more than Santana could trust herself to. And beyond it all, Brittany was right about this much- Santana trusted Brittany.

Santana took a slow breath, still thinking over Brittany's words to her, still considering what she wanted, what she was genuinely ready for- not a few minutes ago, not tomorrow, but right now, in this moment with Brittany. She closed her eyes as she accepted Brittany's gentle kiss, breathing against her lips, and giving a faint shiver as she felt Brittany's even breaths against her chest, stirring her skin as she kept her face close to her mouth. Finally she opened her eyes, grounded enough to decide what she did want.

"I...I want to keep them off. I don't want to get out of the water without them on though."

Brittany was slow and patient, content to smother Santana in little things that would comfort her, letting her press her face against her skin and keeping both of her hands on Santana's body, knowing the feeling of being naked made Santana feel vulnerable, even though they were in a pool. Hell, on the anniversary of her assault, Santana had refused even a bath. Brittany knew they'd come so far between then and now, but it was a vulnerable state for anyone.

Still, Brittany knew Santana would give her the time she wanted and, more importantly, would listen to her. She knew she didn't have to rush her, Santana was processing and, most importantly, Santana was relatively calm and she was breathing. She held her in the water, her feet planted on the pool floor in a wide stance, shifting her weight slowly from one leg to the other, her face close against Santana's, feeling Santana's wet eyelashes tickle her cheek as she kept her eyes closed, knowing she was thinking over what Brittany said and actually taking time to listen to her body and think about how she felt. When Santana was actually paying attention to her own thoughts and feelings, Brittany would give her all the time in the world.

She pulled back a few inches when she felt Santana's eyes open so that she could see her face, her eyes patient and curious, waiting for Santana to tell her what she wanted. When she did, Brittany nodded easily. "That sounds good to me, you don't have to get out without them," She said easily, glad that Santana had not only decided what she wanted but also knew where her limits were. It made Brittany's heart thump unevenly with pride - not only at far Santana had come, but also that she had gotten to the point where she could identify how she felt without influence from her thoughts and could also define a limit for herself. "It's okay to do something like this but still have a boundary," Brittany said, knowing Santana was always slightly afraid that she'd pushed something "too far," but not wanting her to be too afraid of pushing herself at all. "It's not that different from us being in the bathtub," Brittany giggled, although she knew it absolutely was different.

Santana smiled weakly at Brittany's encouragement and acceptance of her decision. She turned over what she had told her, that it was okay to push herself but still have a boundary, and realized this was what she was doing. It could be a confusing balance to strike at times.

Taking several more breaths, growing more steady in her choice as she and Brittany gave her time, she let a few inches come between their bodies, even as she kept her hands on Brittany's shoulders and their bodies close.

"Let's swim."

Still wanting Brittany close to her, she entwined their fingers. It might be kind of hard to swim while holding hands, but if it were up to her she would ride her like a pool float. Or at least stay right next to her within reach.

Brittany held Santana still, watching her face as she continued to breathe and mull over what Brittany had pointed out and promised her. She could see plainly that taking her bathing suit bottoms off had shaken Santana more than Santana had expected and she'd likely been caught up in the excitement of meeting Brittany's stride in playfully shedding their clothes, although Santana had been the one to initially make the smirking remark about tan lines. She ran her hand down the back of Santana's head a few more times soothingly before Santana planted her hands on her shoulders, a few inches of water threading between their bodies, although Brittany's hands still lingers, one on Santana's shoulder and one on her hip.

At Santana's suggestion, Brittany grinned, although keeping her eyes on Santana, knowing she wasn't fully calm and emotionally balanced. When Santana threaded their hands together, Brittany grinned, lifting their joined hands and turning underneath them, as if they weren't in a pool but dancing together. Once she'd completed her rotation, she dunked herself under the water, opening her eyes against the chlorine as her free hand came out to tickle Santana's stomach, swimming forward under the water to press a kiss to the line of Santana's abdomen right above her belly button, a gesture that, at one point in their relationship, might've been suggestive, but right then, was nothing more than intimate and sweet.

Right her body, she stood up out of the water, blinking it out of her face as she kicked her feet off the pool floor and began to tread water, tugging on Santana's hand as she did so and meeting her eyes. "I missed swimming with you," She said simply, sweetly. Between the assault and the break up and Brittany's tour, it had been years since they had been on a proper trip together, and Brittany missed that, the long days stretched out on a beach somewhere with her.

Santana smiled more fully as Brittany turned their joined hands into a more complicated, elaborate move, treating them as an obstacle to be worked with rather than against as she turned herself under them and reemerged. Santana had been watching her, intrigued by the fluid movements Brittany shows in the water as well as on solid ground. She was mesmerized by the way Brittany's hair flowed, mermaid-like, underwater, the way that her long limbs made every small motion so beautiful, practically as though they were choreographed in advance. She squealed, not expecting the tickle of her stomach, but didn't flinch away. instead briefly closing her eyes against the following sweetness of Brittany's kiss to her skin.

She is distracted again when Brittany comes up, watching the water droplets trickle down her shoulders and breasts, and is slow to meet her eyes again when Brittany addresses her. It feels more comfortable to stand still, watching Brittany, admiring Brittany, to distract herself from the very real naked vulnerability of her own body in the pool. She is glad when Brittany doesn't drop her hand, nor does she tug Santana into actually swimming as she stays standing in the water, not yet comfortable removing her feet from the pool floor.

Somehow, it feels too anxiety invoking to lift her feet while she is so bare, as though she is somehow further exposing herself, even while underwater. When Brittany addresses her, telling her that she missed swimming with her, Santana's chest grew heavy, and she dropped her gaze, unconsciously squeezing Brittany's hand. Brittany hadn't meant it in a way that was intended to make her feel bad, she knew, and yet she felt a bitter pang of guilt mixed with loss at her words.

They had not swam together in years. Brittany had been so busy for so long that there was limited time for such a simple thing, something that had been long a part of their youthful summer years, something Santana had once taken for granted. When summers came around and Brittany could not be with her, Santana too had bitterly missed their swims. And then when Brittany was back in her life, it had been so long that she couldn't even bring herself to wear shorts, let alone a bikini or bathing suit, and for the first time Santana registered this additional loss of time they could have had together.

"I don't remember the last time we swam before this week," she said softly, eyes still down. "I missed it too."

She knew she should push off then, should throw herself into fully swimming with Brittany, throw herself into having an amazing, carefree time. She was safe, they had this time together that they hadn't had in years. She should take full advantage of every moment. Yet she stood still, grasping Brittany's hand, not quite able to bring herself to swim as freely as she had while at least partly clothed.

Her face plainly showed her conflicted feelings, her frustration with herself, although Santana wasn't aware of it. Her ears reddening, she blurted out, "I should be swimming right now. I want to swim. I don't know why I'm not swimming. I just...I just don't feel right. I know I'm okay, I know everything is okay, but I can't...I don't want to move. Ugh, why can't I just let things go? Why does everything have to be such a big thing, why can't I just swim and have fun instead of messing everything up all the time?"

Brittany pushed herself through the water, using her legs to propel herself while making sure she didn't stray too far away from Santana's hand, keeping their fingers tangled together tightly. While Santana had suggested the idea of swimming, she didn't seem to be doing much of it, and Brittany kept shooting furtive glances back towards her to silently check in on Santana's expression. When she caught her eyes cast down at Brittany's statement, Brittany pouted, squeezing her hand as she treaded her way a little closer to Santana, threading her legs around Santana's waist so now Santana was holding her, Brittany's arms draped across her shoulders as Santana spoke, her voice small and sad, almost guilty-sounding.

"I didn't mean to make you sad," Brittany commented gently, "Now we have lots of time to swim," She remarked with a small smile, knowing just how much she meant that. "I'm just as guilty as you are," Brittany added, seeing the guilt wash across Santana's face. "I made our lives crazy with tour when we were together," She said, referencing the before time, when they were still together, living in a different apartment and leading different lives. "The last time we went on vacation was way before then." She pointed out, "But our lives will be different now. For one, I'll never leave you for any amount of time ever again probably, so we can go on trips more and stuff like that," Brittany smiled. She knew her touring life was over, especially as it meant she'd have to leave Santana, along with the fact that touring had been the source of their relationship demise in the first place.

She quieted as Santana continued, shaking her head gently as Santana again voiced her frustrations about what she should be doing. She could feel the frustration ripple through Santana's body, charged and electric and strung so tightly, and she wished more than anything that she could absorb it out of Santana's body and replace it with endless calm.

"It's not a big thing," Brittany hushed, her hand drifting to rest on the side of Santana's neck, her thumb rubbing against her jaw soothingly. "It's okay that you don't feel perfectly happy," She said, holding her eyes, her gaze accepting compared to Santana's conflicted, almost pained look. "Your body and your mind are trying to protect you because you went through something scary, and that made the world seem scary to you. Everyone holds onto things, but you're letting go little by little. Even though somethings aren't easy, it doesn't mean you're holding onto everything." She hummed, tilting her forehead against Santana's. "You don't have to swim, we don't even have to stay in the pool." Brittany pointed out, gently trying to make Santana see there was, again, nothing she should be doing. Still, she could see Santana's frustration mounting. "It's okay if you took your bottoms off and don't feel okay and would rather them back on," Brittany said, half a step away from offering to go get them again. "If you want, we can go in and shower and take a nap and walk to the lake if you don't want to stay in," She cooed, "Or, you can hang on my back for a little in the water or I can hold you," Brittany offered, her hand on Santana's jaw tilting her face upward towards Brittany's.

Automatically Santana shifted to accommodate Brittany as the other woman wrapped her legs around her waist, firming her stance and moving her arms to support Brittany's weight. She knew that Brittany was watching her closely, that she hadn't failed to notice the shift in her mood and her lack of actual swimming, and when Brittany began to address her, she tried to avoid her eyes, her fingers lightly rubbing against Brittany's side and shoulder where she held her. Every now and then her eyes couldn't help but flick back up to Brittany's as the other woman spoke.

"You didn't make me sad," she mumbled. "I just got in my head and messed things up. I hate when we're just having fun and being normal and I have to mess it up. This was fine, this was good, everything has been so good until now."

As Brittany reassures her that they will have lots of time to swim, that they can vacation more now and she won't ever leave her like before, Santana takes this in, her brow still furrowed, though she can never get too much reassurance of this. She is starting to relax a little until Brittany tells her that getting scared isn't a big thing, that it's okay if she's not perfectly happy. Her eyebrows draw together in protest then, and she shakes her head.

"It is a big thing. I want to be perfectly happy. I'm with YOU. I want to be, and I want you to be, and I want to be able to just do what I want and not think or care," she argued, her tone almost a whine. "You deserve that. "

As Brittany continues to offer her possible choices, Santana considers them reluctantly. She wants to be able to just swim naked and without concern, to race Brittany and float on her back and feel safe. She wants to play naked Marco Polo and pretend to be a Mermaid like a kid, but the option that sticks out, the part she had thought of fleetingly but not wanted to voice, was a compromise.

Without speaking, she slowly helped Brittany slide down from her waist, moving behind her and using Brittany's shoulder as leverage to help herself push up and onto her back. Wrapping her legs around her waist and her arms around her neck, Santana rested her head quietly against Brittany's.

Brittany was pleased Santana seemed to be receptive of her words, watching them gradually calm her, the reassurance that Brittany wouldn't leave her. She couldn't remember the last time they'd spent a single day or night apart- well, she could, because it had been the night before she had flown to New York from Munich. Since then, since she'd been back, they had tangled up in each other every night, and the thought of Brittany ever touring again for a long period of time or even traveling without Santana seemed wholly out of the question. Brittany was flexible though, and she knew that if she ever worked again and it required traveling, she would just bring Santana with her, wherever she went.

When Santana's brows furrowed, Brittany's own eyebrows raised, wondering why Santana disagreed with her so staunchly. "Everything is still good," Brittany protested, her arms resting on Santana shoulders as her hands played with Santana's we hair in the water. "I don't dislike this. We're together, I get to spend time with you, and we're talking about feelings, about something important." She pointed out, knowing Santana constantly wanted to do things for Brittany and for things to be perfect "for Brittany." "I'm perfectly happy right here with you, and just because you're not perfectly happy doesn't mean it's a bad thing," She promised, knowing Santana's feelings didn't have anything to do with Brittany explicitly.

"Baby," Brittany sighed, "It's not about what I deserve," She said, knowing they were treading in vulnerable territory. "I want you all the time, and I want to spend time with you all the time and I don't care if you're happy or sad or mad or whatever it is. If we didn't have moment like this," Brittany picked her arm up so she could motion between them before wrapping both arms around her again, "Then that's not a realistic relationship. I'm always happy with you and I like to talk about things like this and help you." She promised, pressing a wet kiss to Santana's damp cheek. "Our relationship would be shallow if it was all happy all the time, think of all the things we've talked about when we're sad, how much closer it's made us. Not just since I came back, but all the little things," She pointed out.

She let them lapse into silence, letting Santana process what she said, knowing it was something Brittany felt strongly about. When Santana guided her down, she thought for a moment she'd want to get out, until she felt Santana turn her by the shoulder, understanding then what she wanted. Brittany hummed with a soft smile, helping Santana to wrap her arms and legs against Brittany, supporting Santana under her thighs. She grinned when she felt Santana lay her head against her, rubbing Santana's knee tenderly and whispering, "It's okay, Babe." She gently waded around the pool, sometimes kicking with her feet, but making sure to move slowly and making sure she didn't dip Santana too far into the water, hoping to lull her into calm as Santana laid against her back.

Santana couldn't understand how Brittany could "not dislike" her being frustrated and sad, or talking about the feelings that she didn't like in herself or want to accept. She herself certainly didn't like feeling it or talking about it, and that to her seemed logical that in return, Brittany wouldn't like to be around her while she felt that way. But then, Brittany had always accepted Santana's feelings, no matter what they were or whether Santana could accept them herself, and never judged her for them. She might not always accept Santana's actions, but that was another matter, and even Santana had to admit that she was relaxed with those too, unless they were unnecessarily mean or self-destructive.

She didn't respond at first as Brittany's fingers toyed with the ends of her hair, as she continued to reassure her that she always wanted her and loved her time with her, even if Santana didn't love how she was feeling. But she did take it in, thinking over what she was saying.

It had always felt like a uniformly bad thing to be sad or anxious or to be angry with someone, that it meant there was something wrong with her or the person or both of them. Brittany and her therapist said otherwise, but she had never considered the fact that she did in fact know Brittany in a deeper way than she ever had before, now that she let Brittany fully love and see her in even the darkest aspects of herself on the darkest of her days. Because of this in part, and how compassionately and openly Brittany continued to love her for it all the same, Santana had also seen depths of Brittany that she hadn't when she refused to open up quite as much. In that way, what Brittany was saying was true. She loved Brittany far more and more deeply now than she ever had before.

As Brittany guided them around the pool, Santana continued to process this, note quite relaxed, but less tensed up than before. She let Brittany lap them around the pool once, pushing herself just a bit more, before finally whispering into her ear.

"Britt? I think I want to get out and get dressed now. And go back inside."

It was hard for her to ask this, but Brittany had made it obvious to her that this was okay with her if she wanted this, that she was perfectly happy with anything that Santana needed or wanted as long as they stayed together. And she had challenged herself, met the challenge at least briefly, and for now, that would have to be enough.

"I heard you," she added, not wanting Brittany to think she hadn't been listening or that she didn't accept what she was saying or believe how Brittany felt. "And I'm not scared...I just want to stop now."

Brittany was content to wade around the pool with Santana for as long as she wanted, wondering idly if she'd fall asleep that way, her head against Brittany's, her lips finally less tense and stiff than she had been right after she'd realized what she'd done. It was a big step, one that had shocked Brittany, but one that had made her proud overall, a step she knew was sure sign of new progress, even if it partially was adrenaline and Santana following Brittany's own lead. She'd taken to humming softly as she led them around the pool, bobbing gently in the water. Santana was silent for the most part, but Brittany wasn't bothered, she knew that she was thinking, mulling over everything Brittany had just promised her, seeing if it fit into how she thought about things (although it usually didn't, and what Brittany urged and promised was usually the opposite of what Santana thought.

When Santana did eventually whisper into her ear, Brittany made a hm? noise in the back of her throat to indicate that she'd heard her, waiting for her to go on. At Santana's voiced request, she smiled gently, turning her head so her nose brushed Santana's cheek. "I believe you, I know you heard me," Brittany said softly, "I know you're not scared, but it wouldn't be a bad thing if you were," Brittany shrugged noncommittally, gently walking them closer to the pool's edge. "We can get out now, it's getting chillier in here anyway," She agreed easily, ready to follow Santana wherever she led. "Thank you for telling me when you were ready to get out," Brittany added, turning so she was holding Santana from the front again, her arm wrapped loosely around her waist, "You can always stop whenever you want." Brittany promised, knowing that there was a double meaning behind the weight of those words.

"Give me your hand," Brittany instructed, grinning when Santana did so with barely a second guess, blindly trusting Brittany with whatever her plan was. First, Brittany kissed Santana's palm. Second, she wrapped Santana's fingers around the rail of the ladder, giving her something to hold onto, something to anchor her temporarily. "I'm going to get out and get your swimsuit and mine and then I'll get back in with you," Brittany promised, pointing to the deck a few feet away as if Santana couldn't plainly see where their wet swimsuits were. "You stay right here," She instructed, darting forward to steal a kiss before hauling herself up and out of the water using the ladder rungs.

"It's cooold," She squealed with a giggle, trying to distract Santana from the fact that she wasn't in touching distance anymore as she quickly scooped up hers and Santana's swimsuits before scurrying back to the pool. She sat down on the edge before slipping back in, setting their bikinis on the edge of the pool, picking up Santana's bottoms first. Instead of handing them to her, she held them in her own hands, pushing them under the water and leaning down, tapping Santana's left thigh. "This one first," She guided, feeling underwater for Santana's foot, slipping her left foot and then the right through the parts of her bikini bottoms before sliding them up her legs and over her hips, settling them into place with a soft smile.

Santana momentarily tightened her grasp on Brittany as she came to a stop, turning her head to listen to her. She closed her eyes, briefly letting her cheek nuzzle Brittany's, breathing in the scent of chlorine on her skin and hair mingled with Brittany's own natural smell. It was always calming to her to simply rest against Brittany and breathe her in, however briefly, to ground herself in the physical presence of her girl.

As Brittany stopped, turning and adjusting so she was now the one holding Santana and facing her, Santana went still and serious, meeting her eyes. She bit her lip, eyes misting with tears as the double weight of her words hit her.

You can always stop whenever you want. Always. She could always stop.

It wasn't a new message to her from Brittany, but it was still a new concept for Santana to accept. She had spent most of her childhood feeling out of control of some things that happened to her, feeling that she had to do certain things and portray herself in a certain way to be accepted, sometimes just to survive the day or week. She had let herself be groped and ultimately get into sexual situations with men when she was young, and although she had consented, however unenthusiastically, and even initiated much of it, she had never enjoyed it, never felt that once it started, she could bring it to a stop without some sort of consequence, be it social or physical.

It even extended to how she viewed the rest of her life. Once Santana latched onto a concept that was important to her, she had incredible difficulty letting go. She had loyalty, however much she might try to hide it, to her friends and relationships, and it was always devastating to her if they became hurtful to her in some way or came to an end. She had clung to Cheerios even when she no longer enjoyed it, had clung to her unhealthy eating habits because once she started them, it felt impossible to stop, even on the days that logic told her she was going too far.

And then...that night. HIm. The time she couldn't stop, that she couldn't even try.

She could always stop. It was so hard to hear this, so hard to believe.

As Brittany brought Santana to the side of the pool, distracting her as she retrieved her bikini bottoms and helped her into them, Santana's hands gripped the side of the pool, and she remained still, letting Brittany help her. She was still fighting tears, and when her bikini bottoms were fully back on her, she couldn't stop them breaking loose. She lowered her head so her forehead touched the edge of the pool, trying to hide her face against her hands, and blindly reached out with one of them for her bikini top near the edge of the pool, grasping for it.

She knew logically she would have to lift her head up and use both hands to put it back on herself, but she made the gesture nevertheless without doing so, She didn't want Brittany to think that she had made her sad again, that she had made her cry. It wasn't Brittany's fault. In Santana's mind, it was no one's but her own.

Brittany gently tugged the bikini bottoms snuggly over Santana's hips, aware that Santana was, once again, quaking gently. She knew her words had struck a chord in Santana, the meaning of that simple phrase folded over a hundred times throughout the course of Santana's life. It was one of Brittany's favorite things about Santana- her determination, her relentlessness in pursuit of what she wanted, what she needed. But far too many times, Brittany had watched the double edged sword of her perseverance catch Santana by the blade.

And then, of course, their new reality. It was a short statement, one Brittany knew Santana already knew, but once she knew hit deep regardless, the same way Santana was moved to tears half of the time Brittany said, "I love you," or something equally as sentimental. She felt her heart fracture and burst when Santana lowered her head to rest on the edge of the pool, sucking in breaths that had nothing to do with swimming or treading water. When her hand reached out, fumbling against the deck for her top, Brittany caught it in her own grasp, returning it back to where Santana's head rested gently. "I'll do it," She hushed, picking up the top Santana couldn't find, stepping behind her in the water and sliding it around her ribs, passing one of the strings into her other hand so she could tie it around Santana's back.

"Take a deep breath, San," Brittany hushed. She fed the strings of the halter top over Santana's shoulder with her free hand, grasping them in her right hand until she could reach under Santana's bowed torso and take the other string in her left hand. Carefully, she moved Santana's hair to one side so she didn't catch it in the bikini strings, tying the strings in a knot at the base of Santana's neck before she gently leaned forward, pressing her lips to the top of Santana's spine. Brittany stayed close as she quickly slid on her own bottoms and tied hastier knots in her bikini top before she stepped closer again, sliding her arms around Santana's stomach, hugging her from behind. She tilted her own head forward, resting her forehead on Santana's shoulder, as close as she could possibly be, feeling Santana wrack gently against her.

"Let's get out, you're cold," Brittany hushed, knowing Santana was, and knowing the pool wasn't the best place for Brittany to comfort her or the best place to have that conversation. Guiding her with a hand on her hip, Brittany edged Santana to the ladder, helping her get a grasp on the handles and following her up and out, her hands finding Santana's waist again the second they were both out of the water. "Sit right here," She cooed, guiding Santana to one of the lounge chairs and grabbing a towel with her free hand, wrapping it around Santana's shoulders as she sat. Brittany sat down on the same lounger chair, not even bothering with a towel, not feeling the chill from being out of the pool, focused on Santana. "Hey, you're okay," She said, her hands rubbing the towel against Santana's arms, both to soothe her and dry her. "I meant it." Brittany said, not even needing to repeat the phrase, but wanting Santana to know that she too understood the impact of the words and the impact they had on Santana. "You should always stop when something doesn't feel good," She nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat, the reminder that Santana hadn't always had the option to stop.

Santana kept her head lowered against the side of the pool, still trembling, worse so when Brittany's gentle hands move her hair and secure her bikini top over her chest. When she kisses her spine, Santana's body gives a small jerk in response, and instead of taking the deep breath Brittany had encouraged her to do, Santana's breathing grew shorter and more difficult to draw in and out. As Brittany embraced her from behind in the pool, it took everything Santana had not to erupt into tears, and she fought it, shaking all the harder for it.

Santana was as uncoordinated as a newborn fawn, feeling all awkward arms and legs and lack of connection to any of them as Brittany helped her up out of the pool. When Brittany helped her sit on the pool chair, wrapping her in a towel, she immediately sat beside her, rubbing her arms, her eyes intent on Santana's. Santana felt as though she were going to melt against the focus of her attention and concern, as though everything she was fighting against was unable to stand against Brittany's knowledge of it all, and in the end, she couldn't.

I meant it. You should always stop when something doesn't feel good.

The words had been said before, and Santana knew they were true, but something about this time hurt in the raw truth of it that had not always quite hit before. She grasped the towel with one hand, gripping it hard as though wanting to break its material, and lowered her head, tears starting to slip down her cheeks, her hunched shoulders quaking with suppressed sobs. One hand automatically reached out for Brittany without her own permission, and then she was fumbling to stand just long enough to climb into Brittany's lap on the lounge chair. She sat on her awkwardly, straddling her so she was facing her, burying her face in her neck as her arms wrapped around Brittany's waist, the towel dropping to the ground behind them.

"I stopped," she whispered, the words barely understandable. "I stopped. S-sometimes it's hard to stop."

Brittany rubbed Santana's body over the towel, trying to warm her, to dry her, to soothe her nerves with long, heavy strokes. The stoniness had returned to Santana's body, and Brittany knew it was her futile attempt to hold herself together, to dig in her heels against the emotions that were crashing around inside of her. Brittany could see it in the way Santana held the muscles in her face, as if if she held still enough, if she tightened her muscles, she could let the storm pass over her, although the jerky rhythm of her breaths indicated it was a losing battle.. Brittany knew it wasn't necessarily sadness, it was a combination of relief, of love, of just pure emotion, the same way Santana would fracture when Brittany did little things like tie her shoes for her or brush her hair, their love simply overwhelming. Brittany knew the feeling- it was the very same one she had when Santana spoke holdesly about her emotions, when Santana reached for her without flinching, and when she, as a bystander, watched Santana drown in the overflowing love of Brittany's parents, like a flower turning her face towards the sun.

Brittany held Santana's eyes, her own eyes crystal and determined, Santana's full and glassy, her wet eyelashes dark, their focus locked in a stare until Santana fissured, dipping her head down as her body gave another tremor, the tears that Brittany had seen swimming in her eyes dribbling over and trailing down her cheeks. "San," Brittany breathed, moving to reach for Santana. Santana was somehow faster though, reaching for Brittany first, an automatic instinct, her hand coming up the moment she felt upset enough to need Brittany even more than she already had her, her body seeking out what it needed, a primal instinct. Brittany was momentarily rendered speechless, her breath stolen away by the sheer love she had for Santana, the way knowing Santana needed her made her heart swell and explode, the way she knew Santana loved her.

She reached to meet her halfway, her hands finding Santana's waist as Santana shaking stood up, only so she could sink herself down onto Brittany's lap. "Shhh, I've got you," Brittany hushed, even though Santana hadn't spoken, letting Santana fold herself into Brittany's lap as Brittany tucked her ever-closer, their skin wet and slick and warm, not a breath of space between them. She felt the planes of Santana's face, the ridges and dips of her bones, pressing against the soft of her neck, raw, aching, needing. Her voice was muffled against Brittany's skin, but Brittany could hear her clearly, her lips brushing under Brittany's ear as she mumbled. Brittany had her own arms around Santana, her chin resting against Santana's shoulder. "You did stop," Brittany repeated softly, "You knew that you didn't feel good, and that your body and your heart didn't like what was happening, and you stopped and took care of yourself." She murmured. She fell silent for a moment, grappling with her words, with how to soothe Santana's wounds. "You should always have the choice to stop, and you didn't always have that." Brittany clarified, "But you should have, and you do now. With me, always." Brittany cooed, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. She meant, of course, that Brittany would never force her to do anything, but she also meant that Santana could stop anything, that she could always give herself a break.

Santana sobbed, breathless and quaking, against Brittany, folding herself as small and tightly as she could into the embrace of her arms. She closed her eyes tightly, even as tears continued to break free, wanting to stem their release even as they refused to be stopped any longer. Her breath was hot and fast against Brittany's neck, her face and neck flushed with her emotions even as the rest of her body shook, chilled. She felt like she was breaking, coming apart in the waves of raw emotion sweeping over her, and the only thing that could keep her fragile shards of self together was Brittany loving her, Brittany holding her, Brittany's voice smoothing over her hurt.

I've got you, Brittany murmured to her, rocking her, stroking the wings of her shoulder blades, the bent knobs of spine sticking out from her back as she sought to burrow herself into Brittany, to make herself fit as close and tiny into her as possible. And she did. She always did. No matter whether she was happy or sad, angry or calm, whether she was riding waves of success and bravery or barely struggling to make it through the day, Brittany always had her. Brittany was always there, the one constant source of love, support, and comfort she could trust and rely in. Even as she cried, Santana felt a rush of love and gratitude press against her heart for Brittany's determined presence and strength. Brittany had a patience and understanding, even as she held Santana accountable for growth, that was almost something to be in awe of, simply because she knew Santana, really knew her and what she could and couldn't do, sometimes better than Santana herself thought she did.

As Brittany reaffirmed Santana's words, kissing her shoulder, validating that she should and always would have the choice to stop, that she could and would make that choice when she needed, Santana sniffled against her, taking a slow, shaky breath in, and briefly tightened her grasp on Brittany. When she finally began to pull herself together, she sat up, still on Brittany's lap, and took the towel to wipe at her face. Another few breaths and she looked up at Brittany, still flushed, but calmer, even as emotion remained in her expression.

"Hi," she murmured, holding her gaze before letting her head come to rest against Brittany's shoulder.

It had become something of a near ritual for them, when she was upset and had calmed down, for Brittany to smile and greet her, as though the reemergence of her composure was worth welcoming in. She said it for herself this time, her way of letting Brittany know she was finished, that she was back in control.

Brittany settled with her in her lap, reaching down to pick up the discarded towel and drape it back over Santana's shoulders, another layer of safety, a shield between Santana's bare skin and the outside world. Santana wasn't talking, but Brittany was listening to her with her entire body, feeling how tense she was, how hot and fast her breath was, how tight her hands were holding her. She knew nothing was immediately wrong- Santana was just overcome with emotion, a catharsis, a wound that needed to be drained so it could heal. Santana had gotten better at just letting herself cry when she got upset, resting against Brittany and getting it out of her system instead of futilely attempting to bottle it up. Although she hated Santana upset in anyway, Brittany knew it was an inchworm step closer to a healthier relationship with her emotions for Santana.

She pulled back gently when Santana sat up, hiccupping and wiping her face with the towel. The sight of Santana collecting herself and wiping her face with the towel was so heartbreaking and cute at the same time that Brittany grinned, her hands landing on Santana's waist, her thumb rubbing against the soft skin at her side, taking in Santana's watery gaze. She could still she was still a little shaky, but that she was okay, collecting herself slowly as her breath began to even out and settle. "Hi," Brittany replied back easily with a smile, recognizing their little familiar routine. She brought her hand up to catch the errant tear tracks that Santana had missed, tucking her wet hair back.

Smiling when Santana tilted forward to rest her head on her shoulder, Brittany kept her hand where it rested on Santana's upturned cheek, her thumb stroking along the high of her cheekbone as Santana rested against her, now relaxed and heavy rather than frantic and tight. Brittany let her hands tickle gently up Santana's back, feeling how Santana's breath had evened out as she sucked in lower, deeper breaths against Brittany. "Stopping's a good thing sometimes," Brittany said softly, her lips at Santana's ear, mainly referring to the way Santana sometimes pushed herself beyond her own limits, trying to prove something to herself, to Brittany, to the world. "No one expects anything from you, definitely not me," Again, she knew these were statements Santana already knew, but she whispered them anyway, adding an extra, reassuring layer of calm as Santana rested against her, letting her hear her voice and affirmations at the same time.

She wasn't sure how long they sat like that, the breeze through the trees picking up little strands of their hair, but for a moment, Santana was so still she'd though she'd fallen asleep, both of them taking long, slow breaths together. "Let's go inside," Brittany yawned finally, knowing if she stayed like that she definitely would fall asleep, lulled by the weight of Santana against her. "We can shower together," She said, running her fingers through Santana's wavy pool hair, thinking the idea of a shower and movie night or something equally easy and slow sounded good.

As Santana continued to focus on breathing, focus on Brittany, she kept her head heavy against Brittany's shoulder, letting her body loosen its muscles to relax into her. As Brittany continued to hold her, to hold space for her, Santana did grow sleepy, her eyes half shutting as the soothing combination of Brittany's gentle words and touch continued to bring her heightened emotions to a calmer, more manageable level. When Brittany finally spoke, playing with her messy hair, Santana's eyes opened, and she tilted her face up towards her, echoing her yawn.

"Mmm," she agreed, her voice soft, almost fuzzy with her growing tiredness. "Sounds good."

She made no effort to move though, snuggling closer into Brittany instead. In the aftermath of deep emotional outpouring, it was always hard for her to want to make transitions that involved being separated from her, even briefly in the action of standing up and walking back into the cabin. She preferred to let Brittany initiate any change, and usually, although she would never say it out loud, she preferred Brittany carry her or keep in enough contact that she was practically doing so anyway.

Rather than saying this, she just shifted her body slightly, moving her arms back around Brittany's neck and moving her body closer, signaling without words that she wanted to be carried. This was something that she would carry through into the shower and movie night, since both involved transitions too. If it were up to Santana, Brittany would also take charge of bathing her and washing her hair, and she would sit in her lap while watching the movie (and most likely fall asleep). The continued contact made her feel continually calmer and more secure, but unless she was still highly upset, as she had been while in the hospital, she never actually voiced her desire for this, instead just making gestures to show it that she knew Brittany understood.

Some things might have changed a lot in Santana's life, but this was one thing left from their teenage years that died hard. Actually talking about her need for physical contact and assurance rather than just seeking it or being offered it still felt highly uncomfortable to her, something that would bring her shame if it was rejected.

Brittany smiled at how sleep-heavy and calm Santana's voice sounded, how quickly she'd relaxed and come down from being emotional when she had Brittany's lap to rest in, Brittany's neck to press her face against. It made Brittany's chest explode with love for her and how grateful she was that Santana's favorite place was one that she could give to her so easily and so often, drawing her into her arms and feeling the way her body immediately relaxed at the contact, at the smell of Brittany, the feeling of her heart thudding dutifully in her chest, the strands of her hair tickling Santana's cheeks and shoulder. Affection was something she could easily, and always provide to Santana, and for that, Brittany was grateful. Even in the most difficult of circumstances, they'd always have an island of Brittany's love to shore up at.

When Santana made no move to get up, shifting her body tighter against Brittany's chest, Brittany knew what she wanted, grinning as she felt Santana arms lock around her neck. "Come on, sleepy" She said, wrapping one of her arms under Santana's bottom and the other around her back, making sure she had a good hold on her before she stood up, making sure she didn't drop the towel in standing. She adjusted Santana in her arms, tucking her into her body more as she made her way across the deck, supporting Santana with one hand as she slid open the glass door. She'd picked up a humming tune as she moved easily through the kitchen, glancing at Mila's food bowl as she went, making sure Mila was well fed and wouldn't be hungry while they showered. "After we shower we can take a nap or watch a movie," Brittany said, thinking that cuddling up with Santana on the couch was the best possible plan that she could think of.

Shivering, she whined, "It's cold in here," as she stepped into the bathroom, sitting Santana on the countertop and resting her weight there. "I'm going to turn on the shower," Brittany explained, her lips against her forehead as she gently untangled Santana's limbs from around her. Santana was calm at the moment, but she knew she wanted to tread lightly, knowing that after she got upset, Santana's sensitivity always lingered, and Brittany took extra care not to upset her again. She stepped away from her momentarily, reaching into the shower to turn on the water, testing it a few times with her hand to make sure that it was warm enough for them both being that they were cold and wet.

Satisfied, she grinned, reaching behind her to untie her own bikini top, happy to be out of the cold material before she stepped back between Santana's legs where she sat at the counter, tickling her fingers up Santana's back before she met the knot she'd tied behind her ribs, her eyes silently meeting Santana's before she checked with her, "Ready?" Not wanting to pull the garment off Santana and catch her unaware.

Santana smiled against Brittany's neck, her lips pressed lightly against the warmth of her skin. Despite Brittany's whine about it being cold, she feels fairly warm with her body nuzzled as close against Brittany as she can make it be and the towel wrapped around herself. She keeps her arms around Brittany and lets her adjust her, not so secretly loving, as always the feeling of Brittany carrying her, easily and without any judgment or resentment. It made her feel special and small and loved, every time that Brittany held her, every time that she treated her desire for it as valid and something she was willing and happy to give her. It made her feel warm and loving from the inside out. It made her feel safe.

She could feel the reverberations of Brittany's humming in Brittany's throat and chest and enjoyed this as well, finding it soothing. Making no effort to get to her feet as Brittany carried her inside and tended to Mila, she lifted her head slightly to nod in response to Brittany's suggestion. After emotional outbursts, even ones where her emotion was more a result of being overwhelmed by being loved and cared for rather than being devastated or afraid, Santana usually needed time to be able to recover with a calmer activity, one with plenty of physical contact from Brittany if possible. Brittany knew and understood this, and she was grateful that she never had to tell her so in words.

Santana gave a faint pout as Brittany gently pulled her limbs off herself as she set her on the counter, but didn't further protest or whine, knowing that she would very soon be able to reattach to her. She was quickly distracted even from this faint displeasure when Brittany removed her bikini top again, her eyes immediately drawn to her breasts and a smile curving her lips as she drank in the pleasing sight of her curves. Her eyes snapped up to Brittany's as Brittany stroked her back, checking with her that she was ready to undress. Nodding, she let Brittany remove her top, then slowly slid down herself from the counter, letting her body come into full contact with Brittany on the way down as she embraced her again, both still clad in bikini bottoms.

"Tit for tat?"

Not waiting for Brittany to answer, she reached to hook her fingers in the waist band of Brittany's bottoms, beginning to slide them down her thighs.

Brittany leaned forward to press a kiss to Santana's lips when she nodded her allowance, tugging the strings of her bikini top to pull the knot loose, peeling it off Santana's body and discarding it on the floor, keeping her arms laced loosely around her, soaking up the warmth of them being chest to chest and the same height with Santana sitting on the bathroom counter. She only stepped back a half step when she felt Santana's chest pushing against hers, giving Santana space to slide between her down so that her feet touched the floor, Santana secured between Brittany and the countertop.

Her eyebrows sprang up at Santana's question, and she rolled her eyes playfully. "Wanky," She said with a grin, letting Santana push her hands into the bottom of her bikini bottoms and slide them down, stepping out of them one foot at a time. She reached down, hooking her own fingers into the waistband of Santana's bottoms, knowing she was okay from her playful attitude but also automatically flicking her eyes up to double checked before she tugged the down passed her hips, guiding her ankles out of the material.

When they were both bare, the bathroom growing muggy and steamy, Brittany stood back up to her full height, lacing her fingers through Santana's and tugging gently, sweetly. "I'll wash your hair for you," She promised, even though that was an essential, unspoken rule between them. Even when Santana wasn't getting over being upset or emotional, Brittany frequently took over a lot of the little things- motherly things like washing and brushing Santana's hair, helping her get dressed, applying makeup if she was wearing any. Brittany always let Santana do the same things to her in turn, but she actively wanted to do them for Santana. Even on days when she was calm, Santana always needed a little more care, a little more love that Brittany was always happy to give to her.

She led Santana in, her other hand on Santana's hip to make sure she didn't slip on the tile floor before sliding the glass shower door closed. Brittany first tilted her own head back against the spray of the water, making sure her hair was thoroughly wet, hanging around her shoulders in wet throngs before switching places with Santana, her hand coming up to tenderly cup the back of her neck and help tilt her head back to the spray, her other hand moving to brush Santana's hair back off her forehead and over her scalp, each of her movements delicate, tender, loving. "I love you," Brittany murmured as she worked, her heart fluttering at the way Santana trusted her so blindly.

When Santana straightened, both of them now warm, their hair thoroughly soaked, Brittany leaned forward to kiss her, their skin warm and slippery against each other, the shower water making the air hot and thick. She held her lips there, lingering, before she picked up the shampoo bottle, turning Santana so her back was facing Brittany as she started the familiar ritual. "What sort of movie do you want to watch?" She wondered as she worked up a later, her fingernails scratching Santana's scalp gently.

Santana's eyebrows rose in surprise at Brittany's stealing of her famous phrase, and she laughed shortly, her face briefly alit with appreciation. As she let Brittany help her out of her bottoms, she is breathing evenly, still calm and comfortable with this level of vulnerability of body with her. She closes her eyes as Brittany plays with her hair, enjoying the gentle tug of her fingers, and nods in response to her promise to wash her hair for her. This is a pampering she always soaks up with a pleasure bordering on need, a ritual that has become an expected but never taken for granted part of their day.

As they stepped into the warm spray of the shower's water, Santana kept her eyes open, watching Brittany wet her body and hair with open enjoyment. She never tires of looking at Brittany's naked body with pure appreciation of its form, its taut muscles and sleek smooth skin, the softer curve of her breasts and hips and upper thighs. She brought a hand forward, lightly trailing her finger down the center of Brittany's chest and stomach, and then grinned when Brittany caught her eye.

As Brittany began to wash her hair for her, Santana closed her eyes, soaking this in, her skin warm and glowing with the pure love and gentleness she is being treated with. She can feel the love Brittany has for her not just with her touch but with how it seems to emanate off of her, in a manner that she can sense even without looking at her.

"I love you," she whispered back, the words barely audible, but clearly shown through the way her body angles towards her, soft and trusting of her.

She returned Brittany's kiss eagerly, her hands coming forward to grasp at Brittany's waist, lightly trailing up. She is disappointed when Brittany pulls away to wash her hair, taking a moment to answer her question. The disappointment of the ended kiss is quickly forgotten when she feels Brittany scratch her scalp, one of her favorite sensations.

"Um...Bring it on."

Silly and old as the movie was, it was one Santana always enjoyed. In spite of rather than because of the cheerleading.

Brittany finished working the shampoo into Santana's hair as she spoke, making sure to rub it in thoroughly. Santana's hair was thicker and coarser than Brittany's, but by then, she felt as comfortable doing Santana's hair as she felt washing and styling her own hair - years of straightening and curling and brushing Santana's hair had turned her into a pro.

Grinning at Santana's suggestion, she rolled her eyes playfully. "You're soo nostalgic," Brittany giggled, tilting her head back again to help wash the shampoo out of Santana's hair. She was teasing lightly, but she knew she was right- Santana always favored watching and rewatching movies from their youth and middle school years and had a soft spot for movies she knew they'd watched together before- Bring it On definitely being one of them. It made Brittany's heart melt, the sensitive side of Santana that no one except her got to see, the side of her that cried at watching Bambi and watched way more Disney than anyone would expect.

"We should watch all the old movies we used to watch," Brittany said, brightening. "And we can have a slumber party in the living room like we used to at my house," She grinned as she poured conditioner into her cupped palm, beginning to work it into the ends of Santana's hair. "Just like all the things we used to do after football games on the weekends," Brittany explained with a smile, - before everything had happened. Before their breakup, before Brittany had left and bounced around international cities, before Santana's life and peace was ripped from her in an instant. Brittany loved the present, being with Santana together, but fleetingly, she wished she could give her back her innocence.

Once she had the conditioner in Santana's hair, she nudged her out of the spray, picking the shampoo bottle up and beginning to shampoo her own hair efficiently. There were days when Santana did it for her and days that were Santana showers, days where Brittany took care of basically everything. This, of course, was a Santana shower. Brittany didn't want her to have to do anything other than just be with her and be calm and be loved. For Brittany to give her all of that and for Santana to be the one to take.

Eyes closed, Santana made a noise of enjoyment in her throat at Brittany's hands working through her hair. She sometimes felt like Brittany knew how to fix her hair for her better than she herself did, and even if that wasn't quite true, she often used that as an "excuse" to herself for letting Brittany so often do so. If she could tell herself that it was needed rather than wanted, it felt a little bit more legitimate to her to keep accepting the attention.

"I am not!" she protested, mock scowling at Brittany teased her for her nostalgia. "Bring it On is an amazing movie. Hot girls dancing in cheer skirts, 90s fashion, and teenage Eliza Dushku, what more could you want from a movie?"

But despite her insistence, she knew very well that nostalgia was something that wasn't an inaccurate term to describe herself. She still had a box dating back from their teenage years of memories connected to Brittany- things like acorns and ticket stubs and mini troll dolls that to anyone else, would look like trash, but to Santana were attached to precious moments in time. She still had all the pictures of herself and Brittany, as well as the rest of the Glee club, that had once hung in her locker door or been pinned to her bulletin in her teenage bedroom.

Her petulance disappeared, quickly replaced with a smile at Brittany's suggestion, and she gave a little bounce back on her heels against Brittany in response. "Yessss. We can watch Cadet Kelly and Bend it Like Beckham and Legally Blonde. And Miss Congeniality. Save the last dance. She's all that."

Those movies were actually a bit before her time, but still ones she had adored as a preteen and early teen.

Her eyes opened when Brittany nudged her away from the spray, beginning to wash her own hair. She frowned slightly, watching for a few moments, and then reached to cover Brittany's hand with hers against her head.

"Hey, I can do your hair. You did mine, we can trade."

Although she doesn't voice this, it bothers her sometimes when Brittany does something Santana knows she can do for herself, then doesn't expect Santana to do the same for her. It makes her feel guilty, like she's doing something wrong or being selfish- something she was never concerned with back in the days of dating guys.

Brittany was working up a lather in her hair, her eyes shut so she didn't get soap in her eyes when she felt Santana's hand cover hers. For a fleeting instant, she thought something was wrong, that Santana needed physical contact and didn't want to separate from her, even in the shower, even though she normally would've reached to wrap her arms around Brittany's waist or touch her hip instead of the hands she was using to wash her hair. Cracking an eye open, Brittany opened her mouth to ask what it was Santana needed before Santana beat her to, a frown set in place on her features.

"Nooo!" Brittany squealed, curling away from Santana's hand with a grin, shaking her head as she pushed shampoo off of her forehead. She smoothed her soapy hair back, reaching out to catch Santana's wrist. "I know you can do my hair," She reminded, her voice sobering a little, transitioning from joking into genuine kindness. "If I wanted you to do my hair, I know you'd do it for me. But I want to do it so you don't have to," She said, simple and plain. She could read the look in Santana's eyes without even having to ask her about it, knowing exactly what was brewing under the surface and why Santana had so readily reached out to stop her.

"I'm just doing it because I want today to be about you," Brittany pointed out, knowing such a plain, loving statement would make Santana squirm but refusing to dart around it. "I love you and I wanted to shower and take care of you because you do nice things for people when you love them." She reminded, knowing Santana knew this. Santana was the most giving person that she'd ever met, but she knew Santana didn't expect things like this- sweet, simple things that were done for her just because. It wasn't Santana's fault, but she was constantly trying to level the playing field when she was the only person keeping score. "It's not a trade, Baby," Brittany reminded sweetly, lacing her fingers through Santana's as she stepped back under the spray to rinse the shampoo out of her own hair.

There were times where she would've just relented and let Santana take over because she wanted to Santana to have her way, but the more they'd spoken about their feelings and the balance between them, the more Brittany knew she needed to both show and tell Santana that loving favors could be passed back and forth between them effortlessly without Santana having to repay her or earn her reward. Her mind flitted back to the conversations they'd had weeks earlier, when Brittany had relentless tried to impress upon Santana the fact that she was not a reward for good behavior or a shiny new toy, despite the towering pedestal she knew Santana put her on.

Santana kept her hand forward, doggedly attempting to stay on Brittany's head even as the other woman dodged away from her playfully. Her forehead creases, her eyes vividly showing her confused, complex feelings about Brittany's refusal to let her help her with her hair.

This was something that Brittany had said on multiple occasions, and although it would sink in, just a tiny bit, when she said it, Santana still couldn't help from feeling a resurgence of obligation and need to "earn" the love and kindness Brittany gave her so freely. She had never had anyone like in her life before, ever, not without any conditions or expectations in return. She had never had someone simply love her, and even though Brittany had shown her over and over that she would do so, she still kept trying to prove to her that she was worth it. She still often had the flares of belief that she wasn't, couldn't be, without effort.

"But I love you too," she argued, her voice a slight whine without realizing it. She bit her lip, trying to make it firmer, more "reasonable." "So why can't I do nice things for you too? Why can't I help you too and make today about you too?"

She stepped in closer, reaching to gently massage at the muscles of Brittany's neck and pressing her body against her, as though to use it to sway her.

"You deserve for me to. I don't mind. I like it."

Brittany pouted at the frowning, almost put-off look on Santana's face when she pulled away. She knew, with Santana, things were complicated when it came to affection and love, to arguing and making up, to all the little nuances of a relationship and also the "rules" Santana unintentionally prescribed herself to.

They'd already come so far in their discussions about physical touch and Santana not "punishing" herself after arguments, but Brittany knew a lifetime of thinking about certain things one way wouldn't go away overnight.

She smiled sadly when Santana whined that she did love Brittany, trying to get around what Brittany was saying. When Santana stepped in closer, pressing the front of their bodies together, Brittany hummed in pleasure, tilting her head back at the gentle pressure of Santana's fingers massaging her neck. She let her for a moment, before reaching to tilt Santana's chin up so she could hold her gaze. "I know you love me too, I've never, ever doubted that you loved me. And you can do nice things for me, but we don't have to take turns. Today can be just about you and next week there can be a day just about me." Brittany promised, leaning forward to kiss Santana.

"It's not a competition, Babe," She mumbled against her mouth. She knew Santana wasn't competitive in that way, but she also knew Santana would hate to ever think that Brittany was taking care of her more than she was taking care of Brittany, even though Brittany would never have minded or kept track. "You deserve for me to also, even though it's not about that," She continued, their noses brushing. "You can be taken care of and loved and have nice things done for you just because." Brittany shrugged, she'd never thought about it as much as she had with Santana, having to put things into words for the first time.

Santana tried to take in what Brittany was telling her, her lips parted slightly, forehead creased. It felt like such a strange concept to her, even after all this time, to let herself be loved without having an expectation in return. But Brittany was always unlike everyone else she knew. It was one of the reasons she loved her, but also one of the things that made it hard to understand her at times.

She let her mouth soften against Brittany's with her kiss, even as she continued to process. Her hands fell down more loosely against her sides, and she let them touch Brittany with simple affection rather than determination to do a given act. Still, as their noses brushed, and she wrapped an arm around Brittany's back, she mumbled, "We are putting a Brittany day on the calendar. No getting out of it."

As Brittany finished washing herself and Santana simply watches, she tried to let herself relax. It was strange to let this happen, consciously, without fighting further. It felt like an uncomfortable stretch, but she tried, for Brittany more than because she fully agreed.

Once they stepped out of the shower she let Brittany guide their interactions, trying to relax, and reminded her as they dried off, "Bring it on, right?"

Brittany smiled against Santana's mouth when she felt Santana's lips soften against hers - a tiny victory. She let Santana pull her into her, rolling her eyes with a smile. "It's not a trade, San," she reminded, bringing her finger up to tap Santana's nose. Still, she didn't fight her on it, she knew Santana's mind had been programmed in one way for so long, and even Brittany knew better than to think it was something that could be changed overnight. She didn't want it to be changed overnight either - she loved Santana and loved how generous and loving she was- she only wanted Santana to be equally as comfortable receiving that love as she was giving it to her.

She finished rinsing her hair and then rinsed Santana's, conscious of how Santana seemed to be actively trying to relax her body and glowing gently with pride for her. Even if Santana didn't particularly like it, she was doing it for Brittany, and that was all Brittany could ever ask for from her.

As usual, Brittany stepped out first, wrapping a towel around her torso before holding one out for Santana to step into, rubbing her body over the towel to help dry her. "Yup, on the couch. With snuggles." Brittany added, pressing a kiss to Santana's cheek before she stepped behind her, gently squeezing the heavy water out of Santana's hair with a towel. She went through their familiar routine, picking up Santana's leave in conditioner out of their shared makeup bag, working it gently into the ends of her hair before brushing it out carefully, making sure their were no tangles and that she could drag the brush from root to tip easily. She brushed through her own hair next, which was thinner and quicker, before she guided them to the bedroom, dressing them both in comfortable clothes, as they'd probably just lounge for the rest of the day.

"Ready?" She asked, linking their hands again as she led the way to the couch, sitting down first and knowing Santana wouldn't be far behind her.

Despite Brittany's reminder of not trading, in her head, Santana has already decided on not just one but several days that will be "Brittany days." To her, those are unable to be changed and she is determined that every second of those days will be about focusing on Brittany, whether or not Brittany wants to allow it. To her, it's only fair. And after all, Brittany had suggested it, and to her that's a promise of allowing it.

She relaxed as Brittany worked on her hair. Whatever her mood, that always felt soothing and familiar to her, and she felt her body ease its tension further as Brittany gently worked through the tangles and left it smooth. Taking Brittany's hand when offered, she followed her to the couch and leaned into her, resting her head on her shoulder and wrapping her arms around Brittany's waist.

Even as the movie starts though, she is bored by the initial opening with Big Red, who reminds her of Sue and who she hates, and she looks up at Brittany instead. "This has been really good, coming here. We've had some really good days. And I wore a bikini," she said, as much to herself as Brittany. "And I even took it off. I really did that."

She gave Brittany a squeeze as Mila came into the room and jumped on the other end of the couch, nuzzling Santana's feet. "I couldn't do that back at home."

Brittany hummed contentedly as Santana's head found the crook in her collar bone, looping her arms easily around Santana's waist, her fingertips finding the smooth skin of her lower back and beginning to gently massage her skin in slow, pressing circles. She was quiet, knowing Santana was calm and relaxed where she was, her eyes idly flicking to the TV. They'd seen this movie a hundred times, so Brittany didn't necessarily pay attention, letting her mind wander freely. She wondered if Santana may fall asleep, being that she felt so heavy and calm against Brittany and Brittany couldn't see her face to see if her eyes were drooping.

Just when she thought Santana really might be drifting off, Santana picked her head up, fully alert, holding Brittany's eyes. Her words made Brittany beam, and she leaned forward to press a soft kiss to Santana's lips, moved with how her voice was filled with quiet wonderment, marveling to both Brittany and herself. "I agree," Brittany hummed softly. "This was a really good idea," She added, hoping it would be an even better idea before they'd packed up a left. As Santana spoke, she stroked her cheek lovingly, smiling. "That was a big step," She nodded, reaffirming Santana's own pride in herself. "Sometimes I wish we could live in a place like this forever," Brittany murmured, knowing that wasn't necessarily realistic for them at that time. With dance and school, they were rooted in the city, at least for the time being, and Brittany knew, in terms of relocating, that going back to Lima wasn't an option, lest they run into Santana's family.

"We might just need to take trips more often," Brittany grinned, thinking that sounded like a great plan, "Sometimes I feel like the city is too much for you," Her voice was soft, not accusatory, sad, in a way. Santana had suffered through so much in the city, and, on top of that, was forced to live in the crowded bustle every day. In a way, Brittany knew Santana loved the city, it had been her dream to end up there one day, but now, it made Brittany wonder who Santana would be if she wasn't recovering while they lived in New York.

Santana's skin tingled pleasantly at the touch of Brittany's fingers against her back, and she let herself lean more heavily into her, her muscles further relaxing with her stroking. Santana is paying more attention to Brittany, to the soothing rhythm of her touch and the gentle comfort of her breathing against her, than she is to the movie. The movie itself is comforting, as she can practically recite it. As she let her mind wander, rather than turning to anxiety and concerns as it often did, it instead began to focus on the little achievements she had managed , which both of them knew really weren't so little at all.

As Brittany kissed her, confirming her pride in her, Santana smiled too, unconsciously leaning into her stroking hand against her face. She thought through what Brittany was saying, considering this as an option. She did wish sometimes that she could leave New York, restart a life apart from a city that seemed too big and cold and difficult at times, too scary and full of obstacles. A city where she had been hurt many times over. She had many positive memories associated with the city, but sometimes she wondered if she would have been far better off going somewhere else, anywhere else.

"I think it is sometimes too," she said quietly, in response to Brittany's soft words. "I don't want it to be. I want it to be okay for me. I want to be stronger and better. But sometimes I really want to just go and never come back."

She continued to think about it, her expression torn as she considered. "I don't know if I like New York anymore, or if I just am stuck to the idea of liking it, because I'm supposed to. I don't know if I really want to stay there or if I just want to prove some kind of point to myself about if I can. I don't want to let the past win."

Brittany could see the way Santana's forehead gently creased- thinking about what Brittany was saying about their complicated history with New York. Santana was a dreamer, and she loved having a dream, something to push herself hard for and not stop until she got it. Santana worked best when she was working toward something, fueled by the desire to be the best at something, even though she didn't need to be the best at anything. Brittany had warned her countless times to stop or she'd pull a hamstring during Cheerios, or sat on her bed while Santana paced around the room, furious at the latest solo assignment in glee club.

"I don't think that's wrong," Brittany said, her hand steady on Santana's cheek. "Even if nothing happened, you're allowed to realize a city or a dream or a plan wasn't everything you though it was," She promised, quietly removing Santana's assault from the entire equation, "Plenty of people get to New York and hate it and think it's too much and too crowded," Brittany shrugged. She too had a love hate relationship with the city- the opportunities it gave her in dance were unmatched and she loved the hustle and bustle and lights and colors at times, but she also loved the quiet freedom of nature.

Lapsing into brief silence as she listened to Santana, Brittany tucked a lock of dark hair behind her ear. "You can change your mind," She reminded, "You could've liked it once but not anymore. It's a lot on it's own, regardless of everything that's happened. I don't think you need to prove a point to anyone," Brittany argued softly. "Even if we make a change, somehow, even if we move to a quieter part of the city or Brooklyn, or out of New York entirely, that's a change, and that means you're not stuck," She smiled gently, her temple brushing against Santana's. She knew that was what Santana feared most, being stuck- letting the past overcome her (even though Brittany knew she was far too strong for that) or being stuck in her life like she was in Lima, not being entirely true to who she was. "I won't let you get stuck," Brittany promised, her lips dusting across Santana's cheekbone.

Brittany's knowledge of Santana and her need for a dream, a need to achieve, was part of what bothered Santana about her life in the present. Although Brittany frequently pointed out that simply trying her best to have a happier, healthier life was an achievement in and of itself, Santana had not been raised with this as a mindset and a legitimate goal to strive for, and so it seemed somewhat underwhelming to let herself set "being happy and healthy" as a worthy accomplishment. It had always seemed not just right, but necessary to Santana to push as hard as she could for everything she got in life, be that a role on the cheer squad, good grades in her classes, being part of the popular clique, or being thin. Those were all tangible, achievable things that seemed at first to have a definite end, yet once she met those expectations, she found herself stuck in the cycle of needing to "prove" she belonged where she was, that she now had to be the "best" at them. Really, what she was trying to prove was her worth, and what she was trying to earn was acceptance and love that would not always be given back.

She had this already with Brittany. Brittany always loved her and accepted her, always thought she was enough, without her needing to do anything. But Santana wasn't sure she could accept this in herself.

Listening to Brittany's reassurance, meeting her eyes with her own, she took in Brittany's words with a continued slight frown. "But I don't even know what I want, except you. I don't even know what goal to have, except keep going. That's not much of a goal. Even the school stuff is based on a maybe I could do this or that, not a dream. And here you are, you've already achieved all your dreams. I don't know how I got so behind."

She softened as Brittany kissed her cheek, melting more fully into her. "I feel stuck," she admitted softly. "I feel like I was supposed to be so much and had so many ideas and I thought I could do all of them and I thought I WOULD, and then it just didn't ever happen. Everyone else I thought was such a loser ended up way ahead of the game."

Brittany watched her words sink into Santana, the way Santana's face was so open as she interpreted what Brittany was saying, the little creases between her eyebrows deepening as her frown grew, confusion swimming in her eyes. Moving her hand from Santana's cheek, Brittany pressed her thumb into the space between Santana's eyebrows, holding her thumb there until Santana's features relaxed. She knew it was one of those hard-formed pillars of Santana's personality, core to her very being, her need to win, to achieve something, status, recognition, academic success - whatever it was that Santana decided she needed to be next, Brittany knew it was near-impossible to knock her off track.

Brittany was the one who frowned when Santana spoke, pulling back slightly so she could really hold her gaze, blinking as she lamented about being behind. She was as honest with Santana as she could possibly be with anyone, as honest as Brittany was with even herself, but Santana's perception of Brittany's own success and dreams were still somehow so different from the way Brittany herself saw them. "You think my dreams are something they're not," Brittany pointed out softly. "You know those aren't my dreams," She said, challenging Santana, knowing at her heart of hearts, Santana really did know. "Me dancing professionally or going on tour aren't my dreams, Santana," She clarified, her voice quiet, but strong.

"They happened, but that doesn't mean they were my dreams. My only dream is being with you," She swore, "I don't care about career stuff." Brittany shrugged, blatantly honest. She knew this was another area where she and Santana diverged - certain accomplishments were everything to Santana, and nothing to Brittany. "You're not stuck, you're just focusing on the wrong things. You've grown so much," She said, leaving no room for Santana to argue with her. "No one is ahead of you because nobody's competing with you," Brittany reminded, flinching internally at how Santana was so harsh on herself. "You decided to go back to school and you figured out what interested you and now you're doing it. And you still could do a hundred other things," Brittany said, smoothing Santana's hair, "Everyone has a hundred ideas, but all that matters is whatever makes you happy."

Santana's features gradually softened under Brittany's firm but gentle handling, as she literally stroked calm into her expression. She let her hands come up to catch hold of Brittany's wrist, keeping her hand against her face as though Brittany might pull it back when she wants it to remain. Listening to Brittany remind her of what her dreams truly are, versus Santana's view of them, Santana struggled, as usual, to believe fully. It wasn't that she didn't believe her, or thought Brittany was fooling her. It just seemed so hard for someone as achievement oriented as Santana to believe that Brittany's dreams could be so simple and small.

But then, that was what made Brittany who she was. And maybe after everything they had been through, Brittany's dream to simply be with Santana was pretty damn huge.

"I always want to be with you," she said softly, holding Brittany's hand against her face. "I know that. I just...I want to do other things too. But sometimes I'm not sure if that's really want I want or just what I think I want, or should want. What if I'm really not as big and impressive as I want to be? What if I'm just a lame introverted nerd who wants to be a hermit living with her cat and her girlfriend in the country and not doing much of anything to be impressive? What would that say about me?"

As silly as that may seem to Brittany, to Santana, that seems like a genuine concern. What if she is just average all along? What if that's really all she even wants?

Brittany let Santana wrap her slender, warm fingers around her wrist, keeping her hand where it rested against Santana's head, her thumb stroking her hairline and forehead lovingly now, even after she'd smoothed away her frown. She could practically see the wheels turning in her head as she thought over what Brittany was pointing out, trying to fit it into her own narrative. She and Santana worked remarkably well together, but at times, Brittany knew trying to align their thoughts and beliefs was like shoving two sides of the same magnet together, no matter how hard Santana tried to adopt her worldview.

"I know," Brittany answered automatically, because she did know that, "I wasn't trying to say that that wasn't your dream, or that you can only have one, you can have as many as you want," She said, lapsing into silence to let Santana finish her thought. She couldn't help but grin at the mental image Santana painted, just the two of them and Mila in the country somewhere, even though she knew Santana would probably hate actually living in the country or on a farm somewhere, even though Brittany thought that sounded kind of fun.

"You can be as big and impressive as you want," Brittany said, "I know that sounds cheesy, but I think you can." She grinned. "San, I don't think you're searching for accomplishments, I think you're searching for happiness," Brittany said, raising her eyebrows and tilting her head, challenging Santana to think about it. "I think if you're a happy lame introverted nerd living in the country with your cat and your girlfriend then that sounds like a pretty sweet deal." Brittany said, knowing that for Santana, she'd never settled for something so simple. "You don't have to be impressive," She urged, her voice gentling, "But I think you will be anyway. I think you're brilliant, San, and not just because you're my girlfriend. I truly think you're the smartest person I've maybe ever met. And you can sing, if you ever wanted to really sing and perform again, you could."

"But the reason you're not some genius with a career yet or famous singer yet is because this is good for now," She said, motioning to the space between them with her free hand. "Because you're still in school and you learning and you haven't been performing because you don't want to right now, and all of that is just as good if it's what makes you happy now," She continued. "And that could all change tomorrow, but that's why people change careers and move and do new things," Brittany smiled, moving her hand to Santana's shoulder so she could press her forehead to Santana's, their temples and noses pressed together. "I want whatever you want for yourself, not what you think the world wants of you," She whispered.

Santana continued to take in every small shift in Brittany's expression, her eyes measuring her every slight change and understanding the sincerity and love that show through, directed fully towards her. She had never really thought about all that Brittany was pointing out to her. It had always felt to her like a race in life, that she had to barge her way through and knock down brick walls and glass ceilings to even be noticed, let alone admired. She had never once believed that she could be impressive for simply living out her life in a way that made her happy, because a big part of her simply didn't really think she was a very impressive person. She wanted to be, badly, but she also thought she would have to work very hard to prove it and become it.

She noticed Brittany's smile when she sarcastically painted the picture of the two of them living in a small town as hermits, and wondered for the first time if maybe Brittany would genuinely be happier like that. Brittany was always so adaptable to whatever her circumstances, able to roll with the punches and make herself fit in, and Santana could honestly see her loving a life like that. It wouldn't make her any less or less astounding of a person to Santana, if that was how she chose to live her life. Somehow though it felt different for Santana herself.

What Brittany said next hit hard, enough for Santana to still, never having considered it for the first time- because she was pretty sure it was true. She was searching for happiness. She did want that- maybe even more so than achieving. She had believed all her life that if she could just do enough and be enough, she would finally be happy, but maybe being happy was actually the first step to feeling enough. Maybe.

She swallowed, eyes closing as she let Brittany pull her face against her own, breathing in her scent, steadying the flare of emotion that ran through her. Could she really be right? Could it really be that she wasn't famous or rich or settled yet because it wasn't actually what she wanted or needed right now? Was it just not the right time, or maybe not even the right dream?

"I want to be with you," she said again, the words soft, slightly unsteady. "That's all I know right now that I want for sure. I just want to be with you."

Brittany smiled at her gently, glad they were so close together, knowing the concept of wanting to grasp happiness was harder for Santana to grasp, harder for her to set a goal to obtain. It wasn't a workout regime or something she could study hard for- happiness was probably the hardest thing for Santana, who struggled to truly listen to her instincts and settle her restless spirit.

She felt Santana take a shuddering breath against her, Brittany pressing her lips to her cheekbone to steady her, the hand that wasn't on her shoulder rubbing soothing strokes on her back. She was glad they were talking about this, about their dreams and trying to figure out what they wanted. It slotted in nicely with what Brittany had come here to do and reaffirmed what she had already known for her entire life - as long as they were together, that was all they really needed.

"You're making it pretty easy for me to be your wish granting genie," Brittany smiled, speaking against the skin of Santana's cheek. "That's all you really need to know for right now," She reaffirmed, assuring Santana she didn't need all the answers. While Brittany was notably less anxious about the concept of dreams and a life plan, she understood where Santana's anxiety came from. "I don't think anybody is completely sure of what their dream is either, Babe," She said, wanting to comfort her, remind her that she wasn't behind anybody else. "Even people who are passionate about something or are on a path, everyone feels like they don't know what they're doing or where they want to go next." Brittany promised.

"Plus, not everything has to be a competition," She said with a slightly teasing smile, meaning her words wholeheartedly. "We can do things just because they make you happy without trying to be the very best. Like we can take more classes at the studio just because it's fun or travel just because we want to or you can sing just because it feels good." Brittany said, knowing it was harder for Santana as they entered adulthood- not everything in life had a reward or a score or a rank like in high school. "It's good to have a lot of different hobbies too, just as much as having one single dream, I mean, as long as I stay your one biggest dream," Brittany giggled, tickling Santana's ribs.

As Brittany continued to settle her, rubbing her back, lips against her cheek, Santana blinked, regaining control of her suddenly wobbly emotions. She swallowed, closing her eyes, and wrapped her fingers around Brittany's, pressing Brittany's hand still against her own face. She smiled slightly as Brittany spoke into her skin, enjoying the slight reverberation of her voice against her.

"Some people do know what their dream is," she reminded Brittany, but her voice is calmer, regaining a bit of a sarcastic bite. "Rachel Berry emerged from utero shrieking perfectly in tune with Barbra Streisand. I don't know why she's so obsessed with being Funny Girl because she is literally the least funny girl I've ever met in my life."

She smirked a little, rolling her eyes. "I guess it's not a terrible thing not to be just like Rachel Berry though, right. Actually it's probably a saving grace."

She looked up at Brittany as Brittany continued to reassure and promise her, speaking words that she had rarely, if ever heard from anyone else throughout her life. The concept of doing things just for fun, rather than for some sort of status or accomplishment or fixation, was something Santana had not often been encouraged to do, and she had never put much effort into trying. She had been called lazy throughout her life and often thought of herself as such for not being best at everything she tried, and the concept of not actually wanting, needing, or attempting to be best was a new one for her. She stayed serious, considering this, until Brittany broke her reverie by tickling her ribs. Squealing, she batted at her hands, attempting to dodge away.

"Stoppp, unfair! Fine…I can have fun, I get it. Fun fun fun. I literally don't think I've ever heard a single adult in all my life say not to worry about succeeding and just have fun. Maybe you should be a parent or teacher instead of everyone else, because I'm pretty sure no one else shares your views. But if nothing else has worked out, I guess trying your way sometimes can't hurt."

"Okay yeah, but I'm sure Rachel has even questioned things sometimes or wondered what life would be like if she did something else," Brittany pointed out with a shrug. "Just because she has a dream doesn't mean she has everything planned out, even Rachel won't know what the future feels like. Like moving to New York, we all wanted it when we lived in Lima, but we didn't know how it would really feel." She said, knowing that from the outside looking in, it was easy for Santana to assume everyone else had it all figured out.

Giggling, Brittany ceased her tickling of Santana, feeling her heart thump at the sound of Santana's laugh. "Oh do not let my mom hear you say that, she'd freak," Brittany giggled, her voice light. "My mom would introduce you to like, all one hundred of her hobbies." It's true, while Brittany's parents were accomplished in their respective fields, they'd taken a more laid back approach to parenting then Santana's, or even Rachel's parents had. "I think it's about balance, Babe. Like everyone has to do something so they can pay rent and live and have a family if they want it, but you have to also actually live and have fun while you're doing it." She said, not sure that her half-formed thought was as genius as Santana seemed to think it was.

"We will be parents one day," Brittany pointed out, poking her in the ribs with a grin. It wasn't the first time they'd talked about having a family, although it wasn't something that had come up in years, and it wasn't something they talked about a lot, it was just something that Brittany had always known about Santana, deep in her bones. Santana wanted to be a mother. Brittany'd never asked her explicitly, or why, but she figured it had something to do with her own upbringing, a chance for Santana to do it differently, and have the family she'd always wanted - one that was actually hers and not borrowed from Brittany. "Then we can have all the fun we want." She smiled.

"Wrong," Santana declared, shaking her head decisively. "Rachel never wondered. Rachel always has a plan and always thinks it will happen because of her hobbit magic or something. Trust me, she had a schedule written out for her plans for the next six months when I lived with her. She tried to make me one too, but I just drew cartoons of her on it until she gave up."

She actually brightened at the idea of Katherine Pierce showing her hobbies off to her. "That might be cool actually. It has to be better than Rachel and Kurt's idea of fun. Do you think she really would?"

Although she won't say it, she loves every minute of attention the Pierces give her. Learning about even something like crocheting from Katherine would totally be worth it to her.

"I've never been great with balance," she shrugged, the words flip, but there is honesty behind them. She has always flipped between dogged, even unhealthy single minded pursuits and outright giving up, either drifting or grimly set on her idea of what she should want, with fun and responsibility only seeming near a balance when with Brittany. Maybe that's why they work so well- the balance of each other's tendencies.

She grew serious when Brittany mentioned having a family one day. She knew Brittany wanted kids. To Santana she would be the perfect mom, loving and patient and fun. She couldn't imagine Brittany having a future without a child.

It was herself she was worried about. Although she had never said it to anyone but Brittany, Santana did want kids. She wanted it even more than she wanted Brittany to understand. She had always liked kids, wanted to be important to one of her own, to teach them and love and protect them in all the ways she hadn't had herself. She didn't care if it was her birth children or not, she wanted them.

But as much as she wanted this, she feared she couldn't do it, not the way a child would need. She was too weird, too needy, too damaged. How could she raise a child when she couldn't even get thorough a week without Brittany's support ? How could the girl who bullied others expect to teach a child how to be?

"Are you sure it's a good idea?" She asked quietly. "Having kids. I know you want them, and I know how good you would be with them. But what about me? I don't know if I can be the kind of mom a kid needs."

"Rachel never told you she worried," Brittany corrected, amazed, sometimes, at how face-value Santana took other people's confidence, especially Rachel's. "Everyone secretly worries if they're doing the right thing or how to be successful," She said simply, as if it were obvious. "Even if she has a schedule for the next six months." Brittany promised. "Everyone worries if they're doing the right thing because there are like, a million different things you could be doing."

She raised her eyebrows in surprise at Santana's enthusiasm, pulling back a few inches so she could see her face, a grin painted on Brittany's own face. "Oh you are so going to regret that request," She joked, "My mom does everything, she knits and paints and does yoga and whatever her latest discovery is." Brittany laughed, knowing Santana had been witness to some of Katherine's hobbies over the years. "Last time I talked to my dad he said she was thinking about starting an instrument which, for his sake, I hope she didn't actually." She laughed, although she knew Santana probably really would enjoy the time spent with Katherine. "She'll show you anything you want." Brittany assured her, knowing that Santana would revel in Katherine's undivided attention.

She caught the way Santana sobered when Brittany had flippantly mentioned their future children, an offhand comment that she didn't think that much about. She kept silent, watching Santana's expression, waiting patiently until she spoke again. When she did, her voice was so quiet, so meager that Brittany had to lean back in to hear her.

"Is what a good idea?" Brittany wondered, "Kids?" She raised her eyebrows, actually thinking about it. "I mean, I don't know, is it? Probably not like, right now, but I haven't really thought about it." She confessed, truly never questioning if it would be a bad idea to have children with Santana or not. She'd simply always pictured their future family, and every moment of her future, growing old, she pictured Santana with her, a family of some sort.

She was surprised when Santana automatically assumed Brittany would be a good mother and be everything they needed while simultaneously doubting her own abilities. "You don't think you'd be a good mom?" She asked, her voice partially in disbelief. Brittany hadn't ever really considered what it took to be a mom or how hard it may be, her own mother had made it seem easy, and Brittany knew, in it's most simple form, motherhood was about loving your kids. Deeper than that though, she realized she'd never doubted Santana's own ability to be a mother, and had always known that Santana would be the best mother.

"San, out of literally everyone I know, I think you'd be the best mom." She said blatantly, surprised that Santana doubted herself so much. "You love and take care of me better than anyone. I mean, I know we haven't talked about it in a long time, like not really talked about it. You just said you knew I wanted kids. Do you want kids?" Brittany wondered curiously, her voice free of judgment.

To Santana, "Everyone" secretly worrying was not a given at all, and honestly, she simply didn't believe it. At least not of Rachel. She shook her head silently, saying in a mock whisper that was playful but sincere in tone, "Everyone but Rachel. Definitely not Rachel."

Her smile brightened when Brittany told her about Katherine's many different hobbies, and she laughed, picturing her badly playing an accordion or trumpet and Tom Pierce dryly commenting on her "talent." "No, I really want her to show me!" she insisted, even as she giggled. "I want to learn how to knit with one hand and paint with the other while doing a yoga pose, and your mom is the one to teach me!"

Santana would willingly try anything Katherine wanted to show her, no matter how weird or lame it seemed, because of her admiration and respect for her. To her, Katherine was very much like she imagined Brittany might be when she was older, and she could never imagine not wanting to watch Brittany doing things she enjoyed.

Her smile gone fully as Brittany further questioned her about her thoughts on children, on whether she wanted them or why she assumed her own incompetence in parenting, Santana let her head drop down, not wanting to let her see just how deeply the insecurity of her own supposed deficits in potential parenting ran. She shrugged and nodded at the same time.

"Loving someone isn't enough to be a good mom," she muttered. "Look at Quinn, her parents supposedly loved her and they kicked her out of their house and treated her like a trophy that was worthless the minute it lost its polish."

So had her own parents, in their less blatantly overt manner, but she didn't say that aloud.

She took a slow breath, afraid to even admit it aloud just to Brittany, but then nodded again, staring fixedly at her own legs.

"Yeah," she nearly whispered. "I do want kids. I just don't think I should have any. I don't think it's fair to them. I should be thinking about what's fair instead of what I want, and it's not fair to have kids just because I want them if I can't be a good mom to them. I know you think I'm perfect, but Brittany, how would I raise a kid? I could get scared and freak out any second and then they'd see their mom like that and it's not fair to them. They would have to worry about me or be embarrassed of me and that's not right. I'm supposed to be able to be the one to protect them."

For one genuine, fleeting moment, Brittany thought Santana was going to double back on what Brittany knew and claim that she didn't want to be a parent and didn't want a future with children in it. Brittany hadn't really considered it before- she didn't have much of a plan at all, just loose dreams and visions of the future, ones she realized all contained children in some abstract. Brittany hadn't thought of it very realistically other than thinking it would be fun to have a family to love and raise with Santana. But in that fleeting moment, Brittany knew that if she had to pick, she'd pick a life with Santana and no children, without even having to think about it. Her priority, as always, was Santana.

Still, when Santana's mood visibly sank sullenly, Brittany felt a pit in her own stomach, pouting as Santana confessed that she did want kids, but thought she didn't deserve them. It was heartbreaking to watch and heartbreaking to hear, and again, Brittany was shocked at how differently she and Santana viewed both themselves and each other, especially when it came to capabilities. "Santana," Brittany started, her voice soft, but firm. She knew how she felt and she knew she'd never doubted Santana, ever, such a harsh contrast from how Santana felt about herself.

"Kicking your kids out isn't love," She started, addressing Santana's comment about Quinn's parents, "You would love our kids no matter what," Brittany pointed out, knowing that was absolutely true. Her reputation for being a bitch and somewhat of a bully during high school paled in comparison to who Santana was, Brittany knew, and, since the moment they'd met, Brittany had watched Santana be one of the most open, accepting people she'd ever known at all.

"You are the only one who thinks you don't deserve to have kids," Brittany pointed out, signaling that on this matter, they stood apart. She lapsed into silence for a moment, not sure where to begin or how to say all the many things she wanted to. "If I had children, right now, I would trust you with them more than anyone, right now," Brittany said, cutting directly to the chase. She meant it. Santana was the most caring, maternal person in her life, and Brittany knew she would be the best parent that Brittany could ever imagine being. "You are the most selfless person I've ever met. You take care of me every day and you love me better than anyone and you're responsible and mature and kind." She said, knowing she could keep going on forever with that list.

"I don't just want kids, San, I want kids specifically with you," Brittany insisted. "Because I wouldn't be a good mom all by myself either, nobody is supposed to do it all by themselves. Nobody even knows how to be a parent until they are- it's like, the one thing you can't even really practice. Everyone's learning at the same time, together."

Brittany slipped her hand under Santana's chin and gently forced her face up, holding her eyes, the side of her index finger hooked under Santana's chin so Santana couldn't turn her face away. "I wouldn't let you get scared or freak out or take care of our kids by yourself. We would figure it out together and help each other," Brittany swore, knowing they were getting into specific scenarios but wanting to address each of Santana's fears. "We'd be a team, we are a team, always," She reminded Santana, knowing that was something Santana never really doubted.

When Brittany spoke to her that way, so resolutely, Santana's stomach flipped, but she made herself lift her head enough to look her in the eye. She bit her lower lip unconsciously, trying to take in Brittany's perspective, so different from her own in how it views her. One thing that Brittany said, the first thing, was true. Santana would, whatever else her shortcomings as a person or parent, always love any child of hers, no matter what they did or didn't do. That being true was enough for her to listen to the rest of what Brittany had to say.

Her cheeks flushed as Brittany told her that she would trust her over anyone else with children. She opened her mouth, wanting to argue, but then closed it again, flattered and awed that Brittany honestly felt that way.

She doesn't feel mature or responsible. She doesn't even feel like an adult most of the time, and she certainly doesn't feel kind or selfless. Those were all Brittany things, not Santana things. And yet Brittany says them and believes them, and she never lies to her.

Her eyes filled with tears as Brittany made her look at her, telling her directly and emphatically that she wants children with her, Santana. That she will be there to support her and help her. That she believes in her. It helps ease some of the ache of not-enough in her heart, and she blinks back the tears, reaching up to cover Brittany's hand.

"I can promise to do some things as a mom," she said softly. "I will never, ever kick our kid out. I won't ever hit them or call them names or stop believing in them. I'll support whatever they're interested in, even if it's something lame like golf, and I'll always, always love them. And I'll tell them they can always be honest with me in that corny, after school special way, and I'll mean it."

She exhaled, giving a small smile. "I might screw everything else up, but I can do those things."

Brittany smiled when Santana's cheeks flushed, letting herself bask in Brittany's words instead of automatically trying to argue. Brittany was relieved Santana was listening to her on some level- she knew that she could her in her own head to the point where even Brittany's honesty wasn't enough to shake Santana's hard-established views of herself, especially when those views were negative. Still, she could visibly see that this time, Santana truly was listening to her and taking her words to heart, honestly believing that Brittany would instantly trust her to care for their kids but also that she'd never leave her to do it on her own or put her in a situation that would upset her.

Smiling when Santana covered her hand, feeling the warmth of Santana's palm against the back of her hand, Brittany listened to all of Santana's promises, knowing Santana thought carefully about each one before she said it and really, truly meant it enough to speak it out loud- something that wasn't always easy for Santana when it came to feelings. "You didn't even have to tell me all those things," Brittany smiled, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to Santana's mouth. "I already knew that you would," She mumbled, because it was true. She never doubted that Santana would be the most loving, accepting, nurturing parent because, even though Santana's youth had been lacking of so much love and care, Santana still had so much love to give and gave it freely.

Brittany moved her hands, looping her arms around Santana's neck, holding Santana against her, reveling in the warmth of her body and the vulnerability of their conversation, what a step it was, how open and honest Santana had been in her confession that she did want children. It solidified Brittany's confidence in their future and Brittany's reassurance that Santana, at least on some level, trusted that they could do it together instead of picking herself apart in doubts of her own abilities. "We'll probably make a ton of mistakes, but we'll be figuring out everything together, you won't be on your own," She reminded, admitting that even the idea of trying to raise a child alone was daunting. "Because we'll be a family, you and I."

Santana's body tensed up with the heaviness of her exhalation, then relaxed against Brittany as Brittany kissed her, promising her she already believed in her vows. She pressed her body closer into Brittany's, soaking in her affection and the sincerity of her belief in her. Her heartbeat slowed to move closer to a rhythm m as matching Brittany's, and she closed her eyes, nodding wordlessly against her neck.

However skeptical she was of her own ability to parent, she believed in Brittany, and she believed her promise to support her. And if Brittany trusted her, well, maybe there was a good reason.

Family. Brittany's family. It was true and always had been, had always felt right. And it would always be truly all she wanted and needed, everything else aside.