When the doctor entered the room, Brittany looped her arms back around Santana's waist, politely conversing with the doctor over the top of Santana's head. She confirmed that yes, Santana had been here before for the reasons outlined in her file and yes everything was up to date and no, she had no allergies and a few other things, things Brittany knew to be certain just like she knew them about her own body. She was grateful the doctor seemed tactful and polite, going over, in simple terms, what they were going to do and listening patiently to Brittany as she discussed what Santana was comfortable with.
Santana, for what it was worth, was perfectly cooperative, something that surprised Brittany. She knew Santana wouldn't want him to touch her or examine her, nor would she want to part from Brittany, but she did perfect when he took blood, letting Brittany hold her arm out. As they headed to the bathroom, Brittany saw just how weak Santana really was, how unsteadily she walked, and was grateful when she helped her back into the bed, resting a hand on her leg as she climbed in too, leaning back against the pillows welcoming Santana back into her arms when she reached for her, a surge of love making her heart swell.
"You will, San," Brittany hushed, twirling at the hair at Santana's temples. "I know you don't want to be back here, so we have to work on getting your body strong enough so you don't faint again or anything like that. But there's lots of ways we can work on it and things we can do to help you and make sure you're giving your body what it needs." She promised, expertly skirting around any language related to body size and instead focusing on wanting Santana to be strong. "This happens to lots of people, it happed to us once, but just as many people are able to recover from it and get healthy again." She promised. "We can talk to the nurse more when she comes in about what needs to be done and what we can do going forward to get you healthy."
Santana lays back against the pillow with Brittany, squirming so she is really resting against Brittany's shoulder more than the small pillow. She closes her eyes as Brittany strokes her hair, soothed by this, feeling drained and exhausted. She rests her hand on Brittany's chest, curling into her, and speaks with eyes still closed.
"I'm tired," she mumbled, sounding blurry. "I don't have to be strong now, right?" She was starting to fall asleep but first griped, "Someone out there sounds like they are choking on their own tonsils and I kinda want to rip them out and shove them up his nose so he can't breathe."
She was quiet for a few minutes, on the verge of sleep, and murmured, "Don't leave. Please don't leave."
Brittany rested back against the pillows, her nails comfortingly scratching Santana's scalp, her own eyes shutting, wanting to sink them into the stillness and calm for as long as possible. She knew without even having to hear it from the doctors that this was bad and this wouldn't end here - they would surely struggle in the future, coaxing Santana back to a healthy diet wouldn't be something that would be easy, and Brittany wished that for just once, Santana could've been dealt the easy hand instead of the hard one she always seemed to receive.
"They do sound crazy," Brittany admitted, "Guess that's why they're in a hospital." She sighed, letting them lapse into silence until she was nearly certain Santana was sleeping, pretty close to drifting off herself when she spoke again. "I won't, San, you know I won't." She hummed. "Sleep for me. Just sleep as long as you can and I'll be right here when you wake up." Brittany swore, she herself exhausted also, both of them feeling the weight of the physical and mental stress they'd been through in the past few hours.
She knew Santana fell asleep first, remembering as she listened to the even drags of her breath, knowing there was no way she could've been awake much longer. Instead, when Brittany woke, after she wasn't sure how long, the sound that roused her was a doctor entering the room. She pushed herself to a bit more of a sitting position, brushing the backs of her fingers across Santana's cheek. "Wake up, San." She coaxed, wanting her to bring her gently out of sleep instead of the doctor's voice being the thing that jolted her right out of it.
While Santana was sleeping, Rachel came in after a long conversation with Kurt in the lobby. Seeing Santana asleep, she whispered loudly that she would wait for her outside the room again so as not to disturb her and for Brittany to text with any updates or if they needed anything. Santana felt like she had barely drifted off before she heard Brittany telling her to wake up and stroking her fingers over her cheek. She grumbled incoherently, burying her face against her, but quickly lifted her head, startled, when the doctor addressed her. She doesn't hide against Brittany as much as she had when he first came in to see her, and she sits up with Brittany's help and actually looks in the direction of his face if not quite at his eyes as he explains the results of her bloodwork and urine sample.
"There's no evidence of any illness causing you to faint, Miss Lopez, but that isn't to say that your blood results and urine sample were not concerning. You show severe vitamin deficiencies as well as low pulse and blood pressure upon admission. Your red blood cell count is also low, causing you to be borderline anemic. This can be corrected with appropriate dietary supplements and appropriate nutritional intake as well. You're considered to be clinically underweight and were also dehydrated upon intake."
He paused, all of this said seriously, and Santana gulped, grasping Brittany's arm, already dreading that she is about to be told they will be keeping her overnight and perhaps longer.
"However, your vital signs are on the lower side of normal currently, and without any underlying illness or injury, we have no reason to keep you here for concerns of your weight and nutritional deficiencies alone. I'm going to perform a neurological examination on you to make sure you don't show any symptoms of concussion from that bump on your head, and then if you're able to produce urine again for us within the next few hours and remain sufficiently hydrated, we can discharge you."
Santana let out a stunned, almost exhilarated breath, starting to smile and turn towards Brittany with excitement, but he wasn't finished speaking.
"That said, Miss Lopez, we will be providing you upon discharge with a referral to a psychiatrist and a therapist, because we strongly recommend that you seek their services in order to address any causes beyond the physical causing your low weight and malnutrition. If they judge you in need of it, they may recommend inpatient services and we would back those recommendations."
Santana stilled, her heart stuttering in her chest. Inpatient services? Like, psychiatric inpatient services? They were going to make her seeing a shrink? What if the shrink made her do inpatient, even if they weren't going to send her right now, today? Brittany couldn't be with her all the time in inpatient services, Brittany might not be able to visit her in person at all!
She was so busy focusing on this new focus of agitation that she almost missed him repeat his statement of needing her to cooperate with the neurological exam. Only with Brittany's encouragement and hand on her was she able to complete the tests the doctor gave her of such actions as repeating words, listening to her speech, following his index finger, and testing for various reflexes. Although her reflexes were slow, he didn't appear concerned, explaining that she showed some symptoms of possible concussion but mild and few enough that they were likely related to her nutritional deficiencies.
"We'll observe you for a few more hours and check your hydration levels again then."
As he left them again to take a second sample, Santana slightly more able to manage now than before without as much help from Brittany, she waits until she is back in bed before bursting out with, "I can't go to inpatient! I won't do it, I don't care what they say, I'm not doing it! I'll do anything, I'll say whatever they want me to say but I'm not going into some mental ward! They can't make me do that!"
But although she said that, she was terrified that they could- and that they might.
While Santana slept, she looked so peaceful, so young, briefly free from all the troubles that plagued her mind while she was awake. Brittany wished she could leave her to her sleep, leave her to get as much rest as her overworked body needed. But she knew the doctor's voice, a males voice, would wake Santana up, and it was better for Brittany to touch her first, to rouse her, for Brittany to be the very first thing that she registered when she eased her way back into consciousness. "The doctor's here." She hummed into her hair.
Santana didn't automatically hide into Brittany when the doctor spoke, instead actually facing the doctor, looking in his general direction as Brittany helped her into a more upright position, her arm wrapped around her back, comfortingly resting against Santana's hip. The both of them listened intently as the doctor delivered the results, none of them particular shocking at first, except maybe the fact that Santana was so close to being borderline anemic. Brittany hadn't really considered that, but she supposed it made complete sense, being that Santana deprived her body of nutrition so steadily and had been for a long period of time.
As the doctor admitted that they really had no reason to keep Santana, Brittany let out of a breath she hadn't realized she was holding - that was the news she'd been tensing herself for, the thought that maybe they wouldn't let Santana leave and she'd be faced with the task of trying to keep Santana's panic at bay during the night in the hospital. It was something Brittany knew would be awful for the both of them, and the news that they could leave crashed over Brittany like a wave breaking, relief splashing through her mind. She saw the pure happiness on Santana's face, the first time she'd actually seen her smile since they'd been in there and she returned it wholeheartedly, patting her hip, knowing it must've been something Santana was afraid of too.
It felt almost like a trap they'd both walked into - their joy way too fast, to easy. There had to be a catch, and, only seconds later, they heard it. Inpatient - Brittany's ears seemed to snag on the word and she felt Santana turn to stone beside her. Inpatient, meaning Santana would be away from Brittany, meaning that Santana would have to stay in a facility. Barely hearing the rest of the doctor's words, she knew they had to avoid that option at absolutely all costs. Santana was a special case, her disorder born of the worst kind of trauma - surely a therapist or whoever she saw would agree with the fact that Santana wouldn't improve if she was separated from the things and people she needed most.
She felt like she was listening to everything through a pillow over her ears, but she also knew that she had to get Santana to complete the test and pay attention and she did so, wiping her face clean of worry and encouraging Santana to listen to the doctor. On autopilot, she smiled politely and thanked the doctor, helping Santana to the bathroom again, braced for the rebuttal she knew would come bursting out of Santana at any moment. But she was quiet for the most part, silent until Brittany settled her back in bed, sitting on the bed with her.
"I know, I know, calm down," Brittany hushed, her hands on Santana's sides, just under her breasts, bracketing her rib cage, feeling Santana suck in breaths. "We'll see what other options we have, we haven't even gone to see one yet." She pointed out, although she was equally as worried. "I'm sure they won't make you go, San, with everything that happens. It depends on the person." Brittany soothed, not entirely sure if she could trust her own words.
Santana was fighting back tears, her chin quivering, ribs straining with breaths that refused to draw evenly. She shook her head, her voice a desperate wish and a conviction at once.
"I'm not going. I'm not. I won't go, I won't go. It won't make me better. I can get better at home, I can get better with you. I have to get better with you."
When Brittany encouraged her to focus on breathing and calming, she tried, but her thoughts were circling in fear of the possibility she had never considered as a real threat. Santana sat up right again with some difficulty, pressing against Brittany's chest again on instinct to calm down. She can tell that Brittany is upset too, that Brittany hadn't expected to hear this. Santana had truly never believed she could be doing so badly that separating from Brittany and her own life could be an option. It couldn't be, not anymore. She couldn't let it get to that.
She had to be home with Brittany and she had to stay there. There were no other acceptable choices.
Rachel poked her head in the room again, apologetic and awkward when she saw that Santana was trying to calm down again, and said with genuine regret that she was getting called into a rehearsal. "I can tell my understudy to be there instead, if you want me to stay," she said, but Santana knew her hatred of doing such a thing and sucked in enough breath and maintained enough calm to turn her head, shaking it at her a little
"They said I can go home probably...just get out of here, midget." She paused, then said softly, unused to sincerity with her or even a nickname lacking much bite, "Thanks."
Rachel left after another announced hug she insisted on and Santana somewhat returned by patting part of her arm before burying back into Brittany. When the doctor entered the room again, explaining she was acceptably hydrated and he would send a nurse in with discharge paperwork and referrals as well as papers on aftercare, Santana attempted to hop off the bed immediately but had to grab Brittany again to steady herself. Hydrated or not, her body is still running on zero fuel and zapped of any stored energy from her emotions
She sits back down and leaned her head on her, barely capable of the patience for the nurse to return. It took a million years (to her) to get officially discharged and to call an Uber to get them home, and in the Uber Santana sat beside Brittany rather than in her lap only because of the need for a seatbelt. Once they finally arrived home and had safely got into the front door, with Santana checking it was locked behind them, Santana melted on the couch like she had no bones left to hold her up.
"Brittany, don't tell anyone," she said urgently, looking up slightly from behind a curtain of hair. "The studio doesn't know, do they? Oh my god, I fainted at school? How the hell am I going back, they'll all be talking about me and looking at me!"
Brittany shrugged, "Yeah but no one pays attention to each other in grad school the same way they do in high school," She insisted, "Everyone probably already forgot about it."
She wasn't completely certain about it, especially since she'd never even been to college, but she knew enough to know rumors didn't spread quite so fast and, for the most part, everyone did their own thing. Regardless, she let Santana voice her fears and concerns, knowing she just needed to say them out loud and feel the feelings she was having until she moved on.
When Santana's questions began, Brittany knew she needed to proceed carefully. She knew what Santana could've used was something carb or fat heavy to give her back some of the energy she'd deprived herself of, but she knew suggesting that would only upset her more and make it more stressful. Instead, Brittany thought about it for a second.
"I could make you chicken and veggies?" She began, "Or we could order to have delivered from someplace." Brittany left it open ended, trying to think of options that would pass Santana's test of being healthy while still being packed with nutrition and the calories she needed.
"Okay," She agreed simply when Santana asked her not to leave. "I'll stay." Her voice was straightforward, easygoing and willing to comply with Santana's requests. "We can…" Brittany's eyes glanced around, landing on the dark TV screen, "Watch a movie! That way I'll be looking at the TV." She pointed out, reaching out to still Santana's fidgeting.
"I want you to calm down," Her voice took on a noticeably softer tone. "We're going to stay in, and it's going to be just you and I and I want you to eat as much as feels good to you," She said, fumbling with the correct words to use. "And it won't change your body or make you bigger, it's one meal, and it's what your body needs to feel better right now." Brittany prodded gently, the backs of her fingers coming up to brush against Santana's cheek.
Santana looked unconvinced at Brittany's effort at reassuring her that her classmates probably weren't thinking about her much or worried about her. In her mind, NYC or not, her fainting has to be all over the entire school and most of the city as well, a hot topic of gossip, like it would have been in high school.
"Yeah, but I've been there for years and I haven't seen one single person faint yet," she pointed out. "Not one. So obviously people don't faint all the time, just me."
She looked up quickly when Brittany told her she wanted to make her some food, her features tightening. She knows that she's right and she also knows that she's got to start eating, that she can't let herself get into such a state again that she ends up in the hospital or worse, inpatient, but it's still stressful to think about eating.
"What do I have to eat? How much?" she started to ramble nervously, her hands picking at her knuckles, pinching the skin around them.
The thought of Brittany watching her eat or knowing exactly what she ate or how much bothers her, not having choice or secrets from her, but when she thinks of Brittany leaving the room, that spikes up a little thrill of anxiety and she realizes she wants that even less. She doesn't want Brittany out of her sight right now, not today.
"No, don't go in your room. I might not want you to look at me but I don't want you to go away. I-" she paused, biting her lip. She's scared to eat, but scared to not eat. She's scared to be alone but scared to give up the control of Brittany watching. She's just scared, period.
Santana hesitated, still worried about going back to school, but acknowledging that Brittany isn't wrong. People ignore her in college unless she is directly speaking or doing something, and the most she'll probably get is people asking if she's okay. She knows that and will hate it, but it won't be as bad as high school. She can deal with it.
She dug her fingers further into her skin as she thought. Take out might have preparation she doesn't know about and hidden calories. If she ate what Brittany cooked she could at least watch her and feel some level of control she didn't secretly add a ton of sugar or butter to it or something.
She took a slow breath as Brittany addressed her, noticing her anxiety, and tried to focus on her words to her. Closing her eyes, she nodded against Brittany's fingers on her cheek, needing her to stay in contact to try to ground herself, and reached to take Brittany's hand on her cheek in her own.
"I'll try to eat if you cook," she said, her voice soft and a little shaky. "And we can watch TV. And..." She wants to sit on Brittany's lap while she tries, or at least have Brittany hold her hand, but she hesitates at saying that. Nevertheless, as she squeezes her hand, her expression is open with her need to keep staying physically connected and reassured.
Brittany was constantly amazed at the effect her words and touch always had on Santana. It had been this way since they were young but it never failed to stun her, watching Santana diffuse under the calm of her words and touches.
"I can definitely cook for you," She grinned, glad Santana had more or less agreed instead of shutting her down. Brittany was ready to fight her when it came to this - knowing her health was on the line, her hospital bracelet still around her wrist. "And we can watch a movie. A Disney movie," She added conclusively, knowing there was absolutely nothing too sad about Disney movies, and that Santana loved them, even though she claimed she only watched them because of Brittany.
"Come on," She tugged, leading Santana up off the couch and into the kitchen, which really was just an extension of the living room, separated by the kitchen island. "Chicken and veggies, coming right up." Brittany patted the counter, signaling for Santana to hop up onto it and watch her while she cooked. "Everything in this is good for you San," She reminded, rifling through the freezer until she came up with mixed frozen vegetables. "Your body and mine need all the good things in here."
Brittany kept babbling as she cooked, narrating what she was doing, including why she needed to put oil in the pan so the chicken didn't burn, her eyes glancing to Santana every so often as she did things like season the chicken, waiting for her to push back at her. Easily, she diced the chicken, thinking smaller pieces and little bites were likely easier for her.
After the chicken had cooked, Brittany slid the vegetables into the pan next, a mix of broccoli, carrots and cauliflower, creating a sort of stir fry for her, minus the sauce, of course. She nearly suggested they add it, but backpedaled on that thought easily, knowing she didn't want to push Santana too far and that any win at all counted as a win. When she finished, she triumphantly clicked the burned off, standing on her tiptoe to get a plate from the cabinet. She hesitated for a moment, not sure which would be better - a smaller plate that was full, but small, or a larger plate where it looked kind of empty. She decided on the larger plate, sliding the contents out of the pan and onto the plate, rummaging in cutlery drawer for a fork and filling a glass with water.
"Dinner is served," She said, fake bowing as if she were a butler, setting the food on the coffee table while Santana followed before turning on the TV, navigating to Disney Plus. "Okay, do you want to watch Moana or Luca?" Brittany asked with a grin, falling back against the cushions.
Santana's lips quirked into a fleeting little smile as Brittany mentioned watching a Disney movie. She loved them, always had. She knew all the songs and when she sang them it with with genuine enjoyment, not out of irony like she would claim if anyone else caught her doing it. And if they made her cry just a little sometimes it was because she had a fake eyelash in her eye and no other reason.
She pulled herself onto the counter and watched Brittany cook, swinging her legs with fidgety need to burn off her nerves about eating and knowing that someone, even just Brittany, was about to watch her eat. As Brittany explained what she was doing and why and why she was making each food for Santana, Santana swallowed repeatedly, her throat tight and her legs continuing to swing in slightly uneven motion. She knew Brittany wouldn't lie to her,, that Brittany would not make her fat, that she Brittany wouldn't make up that she needed the nutrients in this food. She knew this. She had heard what the doctor told her, his dire declaration of her need for vitamins and how close she was to being anemic.
But just looking at the food, seeing Brittany dish it onto a plate and knowing she was expected to eat it, made Santana feel like throwing it against a wall and running out the room to get away from it. It felt like a temptation or a trap, something she was supposed to dodge around, and by remaining in the room and even entertaining the thought of eating, she was failing.
"Luca," Santana said automatically, although parts of the movie had made her cry before. She could identify with Alberto, hiding his true form, feeling he was a bad kid who shouldn't have friends after his father abandoned him.
She slid onto Brittany's lap, leaning back into the comfort of Brittany's chest and staring down at the plate in front of her. It was hard at first to even look at the food, knowing she was expected to eat it. With a thudding heartbeat and staggered breaths, Santana picked it up, holding it in her hands for several minutes. She tried to look at the TV instead of the plate, as though not seeing what is on it, not looking at the food she puts in her mouth, may help. When she slowly puts a carrot in her mouth, one of the safer foods to her, she tries to chew it quickly and as noiselessly as possible, her entire body tense against Brittany's back.
She has to do this. She knows she has to do this.
Santana hasn't eaten meat in...well, she's not sure she remembers when. She doesn't know when the hell she practically became Rachel Berry, but it makes some sense given she had stopped buying her own food and started just living off remnants of Rachel's and Kurt's for a time. Eating the chicken feels especially dangerous to her, especially difficult, and when she slowly lifts a piece to her mouth, her chest heaves, tears starting to trickle down her face, leg muscles quivering on Brittany's lap. When she puts a second piece of chicken in her mouth, she is still crying, having some difficulty swallowing around her constricted throat, but she is genuinely trying to eat.
Borderline anemic. Recommended potential inpatient. She has to do this.
Santana very slowly picks her way through the food, making herself eat somewhere between half to three quarters of the amount Brittany had put on her plate. By the time she finishes, close to the end of the movie, she is trembling and feeling very full, anxious and twitchy as she isn't used to that sensation in her stomach anymore, and tears are still streaming down her face. She puts the plate on the coffee table and turns into Brittany, seeking her usual place in the curve of her neck.
"I can't anymore," she mumbled into her neck, sniffling. "I can't. I really, really tried and I'm scared, I can't do more."
Brittany nodded her agreement, flipping to Luca and pressing start. Settling back against the curtains, she was prepared to fully engross herself in the movie so she wasn't paying too much attention to Santana's eating, expecting Santana to cuddle in beside her or sit a little ways away on the couch, not sure if distance was one of the things Santana needed to help her get her food down. She was surprised when, instead, Santana slid onto her lap instead, resting her back against Brittany's chest. Santana couldn't see her face, but Brittany was grinning ear to ear, quickly rearranging her legs underneath them to be crisscrossed, making it easier for Santana to sit on her lap.
She leaned back against the couch, largely ignoring Santana in her lap, instead focusing on the movie playing on the TV, occasionally letting her hands rub up and down Santana's thighs to both soothe her and ground her. She could feel the tension tight in Santana's limbs, wishing she'd let some of it seep out of her body and relax more against Brittany's frame. Although she wasn't facing Santana, Brittany used her entire body to listen to her, listening to her breathing, feeling the way she shifted her body and fidgeting in her lap. For someone who was supposed to be distracted by Luca, Brittany did a great job multitasking at both watching Luca and listening to Santana.
Brittany didn't speak during the movie, save for her occasional laughter when a funny moment happened, letting Santana have that time to herself to get through her meal without Brittany's interruption. During particularly tough moments, Brittany squeezed her legs comfortingly or pressed her lips against her temple, silently reassuring her, encouraging her to go on. She could tell Santana was crying but she didn't rush to comfort her - instead sitting calm and heavy, knowing Santana knew she was there and knew she was safe, just being there and letting Santana take her time with what she needed to do.
While she hadn't been paying attention to how much time had passed, Brittany was surprised to see the movie was nearly over when Santana set her plate back on the coffee table. She chanced a look down when Santana leaned forward, happy to see that she'd actually eaten more than Brittany had expected - chicken included. She could tell Santana was upset, letting her fold back into her arms, this time facing her, her arms wrapped around her neck.
"Okay, okay San," She hushed, slipping a hand up the bottom of Santana's shirt to rest her hand against the skin of her back. "Shhhh, you did so good. That was amazing," Brittany smiled, rubbing her back in slow strokes. "Just take a deep breath and sit with me for a minute," She hummed, proud of Santana's progress. "I know that was hard, I'm so proud of you."
Santana tried to do as Brittany encouraged, sitting with her, trying to ignore the uncomfortable sensation of a full stomach, the panicky thoughts that she is automatically expanding already. She clutched Brittany's shirt, trying not to cry, but her throat feels tight and choked, and tears continue to emerge without her quite audibly crying. She breathes shakily, grounding herself with Brittany's hands, Brittany's soft voice and pride in her, audible in her tone.
She might not feel proud now, but Brittany is proud, and that's something. That's a lot.
"Keep talking to me," she said softly into Brittany's neck. "Can you, can you just talk to me a while? Or sing something?"
She wants to drown out her own self critical thoughts, the harsh voice in her head telling her everything she can't let herself believe. She wants to replace them with Brittany's voice, because anything she says to her will be better and more true.
"Of course I can," Brittany promised into Santana's hair. "I know you don't like the feeling right now, but one day you'll remember that it's a good feeling and that it means you're giving your body what you need to keep going to class and thinking and talking and walking and all of that, and getting better," She added, babbling off about no particular topic at all. She knew Santana was fighting hard not to cry, giving her the space and room to calm herself down gently.
"You'll feel better in just a little," Brittany promised, her hand skating along the smooth of Santana's back, massaging the little divots in her spine. "You always feel full right after you eat but it'll go away," She hushed, content to hold Santana there until she digested her food a little and felt better and more comfortable in her body. She knew it must've been hard to eat and hard now, unable to escape the feelings in her own body, but Brittany was glad to serve as a distraction, holding Santana against her body so the only thing she could feel was Brittany against her.
"And then we can take a shower and keep watching movies just like this and then we can go to bed and cuddle," She continued rambling, telling Santana exactly what was coming next, knowing it was her favorite thing. "And the whole time I'll remind you to drink lots and lots of water so you stay hydrated and feel good."
Brittany fell silent for a moment, trying to think what else she could say, or sing, rather. Her first instinct was Part of Your World from the Little Mermaid, but she skipped that one, instead starting to hum and half-sing a semi-broken version of Mine, the very same song Santana had once sung to her under very different circumstances. Brittany didn't know or remember all the words despite having heard it on the radio so many times, so she hummed the pieces where she didn't really know the lyrics, picking up instead at the chorus, her voice barely above a whisper, making the song more into a lullaby than anything else.
Santana breathed, trying to let her lungs empty and fill in time with Brittany's, to let her heartbeat adjust until it closer in rhythm to the other woman's. She tried to listen, to feel Brittany's body instead of her own, to imagine what it must be like to inhabit it. Brittany is beautiful and healthy and whole, comfortable in her skin, and she tried to put herself in Brittany's skin instead of hers.
As Brittany laid out for her the rest of the evening, it further lulled her into security. She could handle all of those things. All of them were better than the hospital and far better than going inpatient.
Behind her back, on the coffee table, Brittany's phone is lit up with texts from Rachel and Kurt, but Santana doesn't notice or care. As Brittany partly hums to her, partly sings, she further calms.
This has always been their song. Their history, with Santana always so ready to run, terrified to let herself love Brittany- and being made a rebel against society and the expectations against her, against her own abuela, to be true to her real self and feelings. So much of it was true even to this second- here they were on the couch with Brittany's arms around her, never leaving her alone, taking on the world together. She did have drawers in Brittany's place, even before she officially began staying every night. Brittany knew every secret she had, saw past the guards she put up, and she was still here, still holding her, singing to her. Telling her she was her best thing. Even now.
She wiped at her eyes as she pulled back a little, teary now from the song more than the focus on her body, and looked into Brittany's face. "Am I? Still your best thing? Am I still yours?"
She doesn't mean it romantically, exactly. She feels that she and Brittany are tied to each other in ways that are so much more and deeper than that, long before they ever kissed or touched sexually. She has always felt that Brittany belonged to her, even when they both were dating other people. She watches Brittany to confirm that Brittany feels the same.
Brittany finished off her song, mostly hums and spoken lyrics where she remembered, not really focused on singing as much as letting Santana hear her voice and be soothed by the sound of her. When she pulled back, Brittany's hands moved to rest on her hips, knowing Santana was emotional not because of what she'd just endured but because of the song she'd chosen to sing. It'd been a snap decision, really, and it more or less popped into her mind, the lyrics, of what she remembered, sounding perfect for the situation that she and Santana were now in.
When Santana asked her if she was still her best thing, Brittany nodded resolutely, not even needing to consider the question at all. It was something she'd always known, even when they were broken up, something she'd always believed. Santana was the best thing that had ever happened to her, and Brittany firmly believed that everyone else in Santana's life just didn't know what they were missing and had been blinded by Santana's brightness all along, but not her. She had always known how brightly Santana shone.
"Of course you're mine," Brittany said with a giggle, "My best thing," She promised, her thumbs rubbing circles into Santana's hips. Her hands trailed up to cup Santana's face, her thumbs brushing her tears away, feeling as close to Santana as she ever had. For once, there was no loft, no Kurt and Rachel, no arguing about what had happened or Santana eating. There was just the two of them, back together after so many months apart, Santana straddling Brittany's lap and Brittany holding her like no time had passed.
And then, without really hesitating at all, Brittany sat up and pressed their lips together, tilting her head just slightly. The contact sent every atom in Brittany's body nuclear, every nerve on end, electricity buzzing through Brittany's veins in an addicting, intoxicating high, their first kiss in years. It was something Brittany had thought about since she'd gotten back, realizing that her actions hadn't set Santana free and she'd been wrong in her assumptions that Santana should lead a better life. It stung to realize she'd hurt Santana so badly, but Brittany had silently promised that she'd spend the rest of her life trying to smooth out that pain.
Now, she was kissing her and kissing her and never wanted to stop, her body rising to press against hers from where Santana sat in her lap, one hand threading through Santana's hair to cup the back of her skull, ignoring the burn in her lungs that asked for air and kissing, kissing, kissing. What she's always wanted to do since she first got to New York, kissing her as if she could kiss away every tear and ounce of pain Santana had suffered.
Santana's eyes remained open, lit with her full feelings of hope and vulnerability for Brittany's response as Brittany's thumbs caressed her hips, then moved up to wipe her tears. She felt like she was falling into Brittany's returning gaze, the cool blue of their color nevertheless lit with warmth and love for her.
When Brittany leaned in, she expected her to give her an Eskimo kiss, maybe to kiss her cheek or head in the comforting manner she had grown accustomed to in the past several weeks. But Brittany's lips light on hers, warm and soft and jolting into life all the feelings she had always felt for her before. She is suddenly alive in a way she had not been in years, her body heated and pulsing with a flow of energy and arousal that went from her head all the way down to her toes with a dizzying rush. Santana's mind sputtered and whirred with thoughts that had no coherent sentence to them, thoughts that died out and half started again before fully giving way to nothing but pure emotion and instinct. She let herself feel, just feel, and everything she felt was directed at wanting to kiss Brittany S Pierce back as fiercely and furiously as she was being kissed by her.
Santana's hips rocked into Brittany, pressing her chest into hers, breathing escalating in her growing excitement and arousal as she reached to scratch long nails down the back of Brittany's neck, groaning into her mouth as Brittany lightly pulled her hair. She too is growing breathless as she opens and closes her mouth in rhythm with Brittany's movements, her free hand groping high up on Brittany's thigh. She strokes her tongue against Brittany's, loving the taste of her, heady with Brittany's scent filling her nose. Finally having to come up for air, she dragged Brittany's lip through her teeth, sucking lightly, and then immediately went back for her mouth again as the hand on her thigh moved up Brittany's stomach.
If Brittany's body started buzzing when she'd first pressed her lips against Santana's, feeling the way Santana reacted to her kissing made her feel like she was about to explode. Every single inch of her skin was burning with a frantic, pent up energy, feeling the way Santana pushed back just as enthusiastically, her hips pressing down against Brittany's melting Brittany's insides and making her question if she'd ever felt anything better than kissing Santana. Their chests were slamming together at the breaths they managed to suck in, their mouths sliding and dragging along each other's. Brittany's tongue slid across Santana's bottom lip, requesting access and immediately being granted it, their tongues battling for dominance.
When they momentarily broke apart for air, Brittany whispered a single word against the corner of Santana's mouth, "Fuck," it was all she had time to say before Santana had Brittany's bottom lip between her teeth and was doing that damn thing that made her want to go insane and they were both falling again, deep, deep into each other. Brittany could've kissed Santana for a hundred years, forgoing their commitments like work and classes and sleep, just kissing, kissing, kissing.
She slid her hands up to Santana's arms before she pushed them sideways, angling so Santana landed on her back and Brittany over her. Brittany was the one straddling her now, a similar position to the one they'd been in weeks ago during their tickle fight, although under very different circumstances. Now, they had zero inhibitions, and Brittany snaked her way back up Santana's body to connect their mouths again, kissing the air right out of her lungs. When they had to pull away again, she stayed as close as she was, their faces just inches apart, her arm next to Santana's head, propping herself up.
"I've wanted to do that for so long." She admitted softly, fearful that her words would break the spell. They didn't though, the two of them still submerged in the same magic they had been.
There was absolutely nothing on earth, nothing to the galaxy beyond, that could make her feel better than touching Brittany and being touched by Brittany. And kissing Brittany? Santana felt like her entire body, hell, her soul, was being cracked apart and then pushed back together, messy and jagged and yet perfectly, wonderfully beautiful and right in its new alignment. Forget tingling, forget buzzing, Santana's entire body is aflame, glowing with fervent desire. How had she lived without this? How had she gone a single day without having the memory of Brittany's kiss forever, irrevocably engraved into her heart and skin?
When Brittany whispered into her mouth, swearing aloud as she so rarely did, Santana broke into a brief giggle, her dimples breaking out, eyes almost buried in the full on force of her smile. She hides the grin in Brittany's shoulder and then lunges for her mouth again, feeling in control of her body, feeling at home, enjoying her body, more than she has in far longer than she can recall- far before even its breaking.
As Brittany flips and straddles her, Santana allows it eagerly, craning her neck up so she doesn't have to break her mouth from Brittany's for a moment longer than necessary. She twines her fingers somewhat roughly in Brittany's hair in one hand and pulls her close into her with the other, her thin arm tight around Brittany's back, nails digging in her bare skin beneath Brittany's shirt. She arches into Brittany, her heart racing, her skin flushed and warm all over as Brittany pulls away, staying close enough that their noses nearly touch. Santana's chest is heaving, her breath coming in gasps as she reaches to twine her hand in Brittany's, kissing its knuckles before holding it over her own heart.
She doesn't respond verbally to Brittany's confession. Instead she just looks up at her, her heart in her eyes, and smiles. She doesn't say she loves her out loud, but her expression is shouting it and her body is proclaiming it with every inch in contact with Brittany's.
Brittany grinned when Santana held her hand over her heart, hearing the steady pounding that came along with kissing someone rather than breathing. A familiar thumping that Brittany hadn't heard in so, so long. It had also been so, so long since she'd seen that smile on Santana's face, gentle and lazy, almost dazed, dreamy and in love. It was a smile reserved specifically for her, Brittany knew, a smile that only she'd ever seen, a smile that snuck out in the little moments, right after they made love, right after Brittany gave her a compliment, when she was telling Brittany something she was proud of or when she was giving her a present. Seeing it again made her realize just how much she'd missed it.
Ducking her head, she pressed another breathless kiss to Santana's mouth again before dragging her lips away to press open mouth kisses against Santana's jaw and down lower across her neck, sucking on the pulse point in her neck, kissing across all the skin she could above the collar of her shirt. She missed all it so much, she wondered why she'd ever let Santana go in the first place. She was selfish and she wanted to be, Santana was hers and she never, ever wanted anyone else to have her, to have this. Brittany wanted it all to be hers, forever, molding her body perfectly to the woman underneath her, shoving her hips down as Santana arches against her, both of them sucking in desperate breaths.
Santana barely has time to respond back to Brittany's kiss on her mouth, opening her mouth to receive and begin to return it, before Brittany is moving her lips on, using them to thoroughly give their attentions to the flushed skin of her neck, throat, and the hollow of her collar bone where her oversized sweater dips low at the neck to expose a section of collar bone and chest. Santana released a ragged gasp, her pulse skittering as her body throbbed, responding as it only ever had, only ever could to Brittany. Brittany could make her body sing, could play it with a single touch like a song she knew by heart.
Santana feels completely open and exposed to Brittany in a completely different way than usual as she presses her full body length into her, making herself available, her body sending her the clear message that it liked her touch, that it wanted it, that she was thrilling and thriving off it. She needed it in a way that she needed everything else Brittany provided her.
But this openness is different than talking to her with honesty and emotional vulnerability, or even exposing her body to Brittany while undressing or in the bathroom. This openness is an acceptance of anything Brittany wants to do, any love or attention she is willing to give. This is an unspoken message of trust and love that Santana's body speaks far more clearly than she has words to say.
She wants Brittany, in every possible way to define the word. She loves her, in every possible way to define the word, and trusts her- anything and everything Brittany could and would do, and as Santana's body uncoils under her and opens to her, this message is transmitted, loud and clear.
Kissing Santana again was the best feeling she'd ever felt, but the way Santana's body moved beneath her was even better. Brittany was again stunned at how open and effortless Santana acted with her, listening to her body fully and giving into her wants without any hesitations or questions or moments of anxiousness. Santana had always been this way with her, but it was something she registered especially now, after so much time had passed and so much trauma had struck Santana's life. Santana was anxious at every moment of the day, but not now, not writhing underneath Brittany, pressing her body up against her with an urgency and desperation that struck a chord somewhere deep and low in Brittany's body.
She kept sucking on her neck, dragging her lips across the exposed skin, kissing her way back up, all the way up to the little hollow behind Santana's ear, placing a gentle kiss there as she tried to regulate her own breathing, resting her body against Santana's now instead of her previous rolling and grinding against her. As much as Brittany wanted her - and she did, badly - she knew they couldn't do it now, she didn't want to do it now. Not when Santana had been discharged from the hospital hours ago, not when they hadn't really talked about their break up or why Brittany left, not when they weren't even officially back together.
It seemed wrong, for Santana, for both of them, and all Brittany wanted was to do right by her. She'd wronged her once and it had been the worst mistake of her life and she was determined to never make a mistake when it came to Santana ever again. Sighing contentedly, Brittany buried her face in Santana's neck where she lay on top of her, her hands sliding under Santana's back on the couch so she could wrap her arms around her.
"Did that answer your question?" Brittany giggled, "Yes, Santana. You are my very, very best thing."
Santana isn't even undressed, she doesn't have any part of her bare to Brittany's attentions but her neck and face, but it's enough for all the rest of her to be tremulous and responsive, her muscles open and relaxed and completely tuned in and desiring of more. She sucks in a sharp breath as Brittany pulls the skin of her neck with her lips, tongue, and teeth, a thrill of arousal and pleasure shooting to her core.
When Brittany pulled her lips from her skin, instead giving her a light kiss behind the ear and coming to rest herself against Santana, Santana started to lift her head, a little confused by the abrupt change in pace and attentions, but quickly settled when Brittany wrapped her arms around her and buried her face in her neck. Pulse still pounding, her breathing settling slightly but still far from controlled, Santana lay back on the couch and wrapped her arms around Brittany in return.
As much as she is willing and eager to go further with Brittany, there is so much that hasn't been said or determined between them, and when she stops to rest, her body reminds her of how much it has just recently been through. She realizes that she is trembling, not just from excitement but from the exertion of her response to Brittany and what her body has been put through today. She tries to catch her breath as she hugs Brittany against her, breaking out into another dimpled smile when Brittany speaks.
"You're my best thing too," she said back a little breathlessly but with sincerity. "The best thing that's ever been mine. Always."
Brittany smiled into Santana's neck when she returned the sentiment, feeling a surge of love pound through her at the sheer gravitational pull they had on each other, the force of the universe that dragged them together after they'd been apart, the sheer luck she'd had in being allowed another chance with the woman that she loved. She'd been wrong, and it was something she didn't take lightly or let herself forget. While she'd thought it was an action that would benefit Santana in the long run, it only caused her pain causing Brittany regret now. If anything, the only good thing about their separation was that it confirmed for Brittany that they only belonged together, as together as they could possibly be, and that no amount of demanding schedules or life challenges could separate them.
