Title: After All This Time
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 11.3k
Summary: See, you've never really been one for bright ideas. Sure, you're phenomenal at revenge plans and being a total bitch, but when it comes to genuinely decent ideas, you're lacking to say the least. But this one? This one could actually work.
Notes: The final chapter... There should be an epilogue, but this has been one hell of a story! Thank you so much for all your feedback guys and I hope you continue to read my stuff!
/
You don't know how you got from passing through security to sitting in your seat, on the airplane, with Cassie and Mercedes either side.
You don't remember waiting at the gate, or even getting to there or handing over your ticket… All you know is that you've just heard everything you want to hear since you were 16 from Brittany, and you've been in shock ever since. Even now, clutching at the arms of the seat, staring at the one in front of you like it's talking to you, you don't really know why your body isn't understanding the words you heard and more importantly, why you walked away from her after she said it?
You didn't even look back.
But you know that at the time, it was the right thing to do. You know, sitting here, that you made the right choice because her telling you she loves you, that she's in love with you, isn't going to change the past. You're still hurt over it. You're still suffering like you were five months ago when she stomped on your heart instead of holding it. That's not the reason you walked away, but it contributes massively and you're trying to find reason like how it's too late, but when would've been the right time?
Your mind races over that thought, unable to process anything other than the sound of the pilot talking over the speaker system and the feeling of something cold being shoved into your hand from the right.
It's that that breaks you from your daze and you swallow thickly, looking around to find Mercedes on the other end of the cold thing – which turns out to be a plastic cup of what you hope is alcohol – staring back at you, like she's not sure whether you're going to have a breakdown or lash out. You're not entirely sure either. You're not sure of anything other than Brittany just said she loved you back and for some fucking reason, you're still on the goddamn plane and still leaving.
"Do you want any snacks?"
You barely register the question, but your head still shakes to decline, and you go back to staring at the back of the seat as Cassie reaches over, robotically manoeuvring your arm until you can take a sip of your drink. It is alcohol – thank God – and strong at that as you can't taste a mixer, and you wince as it settles into your stomach, head tilting back to the seat, so you avert your gaze to the roof of the plane and the various lockers attached to it.
"No, that's all thank you," you hear and close your eyes against the sound of Mercedes talking to the hostess, only to hear your name a few seconds later.
"Santana Lopez?"
It's not Mercedes voice this time, and despite your shocked state, you open your eyes and look up to where it came from, finding someone you really weren't expecting to be looking back at you and the shock increases for a whole other reason.
"Quinn?" You half-gasp, straightening up in your seat and you feel two sets of eyes on you from either side, but you don't meet them. What the fuck is Quinn doing here? And why is she dressed like an air hostess? "Wh-what the fuck?"
Quinn smirks, looking very smart and scarily like an elementary school teacher and if it wasn't for all the shit that transpired between you and Brittany, you'd probably find her attractive in this get up, but now your senses to finding anyone else attractive – even Quinn fucking Fabray – has sort of sizzled out. You're not sure you've even looked at anyone's ass since the first time you and Brittany slept together. Bar Dani, but even that was forced on your behalf in some stupid jealousy fuelled game that you never should've played.
Fuck. You're not as innocent as you think.
"What a surprise," the blonde drones and Cassie clears her throat loudly from beside you, a stark reminder that she and Mercedes exist.
You splutter, realising how rude you're being but you're a hot mess right now and nothing is straight in your head. Everything is jumbled into a tangled, knotted pile of crap and you don't even know what you're fucking doing but introducing them would be a start.
"Guys, this is Quinn… We used to go to high school together," you explain, sweeping your hand towards her. You purposefully don't mention the last time you saw her, even if her eyes are trailing up and down you like they did back then. "This is Cassie and Mercedes, my friends from New York."
"New York?" Quinn repeats, after smiling sweetly at the two women beside you. "You finally left Ohio?"
"God, do you still talk to everyone you go to school with?" Cassie comments from beside you, as she's in the window seat and you flash her a glare. She hasn't spoken to you since you walked through security, and now is the best time to do so and in the form of a jibe? Bitch. "Get a fucking life."
"Ah, yes…" Quinn draws out, her tone lowering as she leans on the seat in front of Mercedes, looking like she's getting comfortable, and you so don't need this right now. "How are Brittany and Kurt?"
One of the name stings. Like really fucking hurts and you can't help but wince and cower a little in your seat, sucking in a shaky breath before you respond. It's a little too soon to hear her name without wanting to cry.
"They're fine," you spit, too sharp for it to be true and when you look back up, there's a perfectly shaped eyebrow quirked your way like she noticed. "They're still in Lima."
"That's not surprising... Well, I wouldn't mention we ran into each other."
You frown, eyes narrowing as you watch Quinn pick at the sleeve of her pressed shirt. "What?"
Quinn eyes you for a long minute, almost like she's waiting for you to realise what she's talking about, but you don't. Why shouldn't you tell Kurt and Brittany that you saw her? And why is she taking so fucking long to answer the damn question?
"Brittany didn't tell you?" She finally answers, brow dropping from a raise into a deep dip.
"Tell me what?"
Hazel eyes narrow, like she's studying you. "Britt and I sort of had a... disagreement… at the reunion," Quinn explains, the words coming out slowly and you feel Cassie lean in from the side, intrigue taking over, and you would slap her away, but you're far more interested in finding out what Brittany and Quinn argued about, and why you didn't know about it. You knew something went down as it's been mentioned, back when Brittany and Kurt found it hilarious you and Quinn slept together seeing as she was talking shit about you, but all you heard was one perspective.
And you think you need to hear the other because now it's not making sense. Surely Brittany would've mentioned if they'd disagree, right? That seems kind of important.
"About what?"
The question doesn't come from you, but from Mercedes and you're kind of glad because you know she's a gossip queen, but the look in her face isn't showing that motivation that would lead her to spread it or just want to find out because she's nosey. She genuinely looks like she has to know the answer, like she's teetering on the edge of her seat, waiting for the ultimate finale of a rom-com. She had the same expression outside the security gate and you're beginning to remember that you've seen it on other people's faces too, like Puck and Artie, Kurt, and Dani… You've seen that look before.
Like they need to see the happy ending.
Quinn shifts uncomfortably, clearly realising that you're definitely not in the know about this topic and clears her throat quickly. "She kind of… slapped me after I was talking smack about you."
Your head jerks back so far you're sure it almost comes off, and you feel something warm seep into your chest, but you can't believe it. You've had your hopes up before, but you won't this time. You won't believe it. You've known Brittany for years and she never resorts to physical violence. In fact, you don't think you can think of a single time you've ever seen her get physical with anyone, always claiming that violence isn't necessary and that you don't need to hit anyone, even if you always used to.
Back when you got your first real ID, you got thrown out the first night you ventured legally into a bar because some creep got too close to Brittany. Even then though, when you were collared by security, she apologised profusely and then told you off for using your fists instead of your words and she was disappointed in you. Admittedly, it had put you off slapping the crap out of some douchebag again and you only did it on nights out when she wasn't there and if it was strictly necessary.
So it comes as a shock to hear that Brittany slapped Quinn.
Quinn fucking Fabray… Her ex-head cheerleader and you thought, close friend.
But why? You still don't understand.
"Seriously?" Mercedes is the one to ask, her voice almost in a screech and it's a statement to think that even your city friends know how un-Brittany that was, which is why you're glad she's responding because for the third time today, you're frozen with shock. "What happened?"
Hazel eyes slide to Mercedes, but then shift back to you just as quickly and you lean forward, resisting the urge to slap Quinn yourself just to get her answer quicker. You can tell she's uncomfortable with what's going on, and maybe you'll explain it if she just fucking speaks but this is vital information. This could change everything and there's something tugging in the pit of your stomach, telling you that you need to hear it.
"Like I said, I was kind of a bitch about you behind your back," she finally admits and that's not the part that shocks you. You're not surprised she did that, and you'd care if you cared about her opinion whatsoever, but you two aren't friends. The only interaction you've had as adults was in a bathroom stall and even then it was revenge sex for all the shit she did to you in high school. "She didn't take it too well," the blonde shrugs and bites her lip, almost like she's scared for your reaction but you're not going to do anything she expects. "Not that I'm super shocked about that… I should've seen that coming."
"Why would you have seen that coming?"
Cassie asks the question, and you turn your head to peer at her but then twist it back round immediately, seeing the way Quinn holds your eye like you're supposed to be the one filling them in, but you don't know the answer to that. You have no idea why Quinn's being all cryptic and shit when she's usually so straight up. Back at the reunion she spoke like, three sentences to you before she was dragging you by the shirt into the bathroom to fuck you senseless, so this is weird.
But when you hear the answer, you realise that it's not weird. You're the one out of the know.
"Because she obviously never got over her little crush," the blonde retorts, folding her arms over her chest and shrugging, and you freeze again.
Crush?
"What crush?"
Hazel eyes narrow, glaring at you like you're the dumbest thing to ever walk the planet, and you feel like it. Mercedes and Cassie are now leaning back, sighing in realisation but you're not at the same part as them. Did you black out? You must have missed something because now everyone's looking at you like you're a dumbass, but you don't fucking understand.
But then Quinn speaks, and you suddenly do. "On you," she replies and scrunches up her face, shaking her head like it's obvious. "She had a major thing for you back in high school, even before your glow up for some reason..." She continues and cocks her head to the side when you just blink at her. "Oh, come on... You must have known that. You two were hooking up, right?"
Thing is, you've heard that a million times over. You remember Kurt said it back when you and Brittany were eying the trophies and laughing it off. You remember Dani assuming that there was something more between you, as well as every stranger you ever met as a pair, but those times you've laughed it off too, and you kind of wish you could do the same now, but your mind begins reeling back over every touch, every kiss, every look that Brittany's ever given you and it kick starts something inside your brain.
That night of the reunion, you knew that your best friend was being off with you after finding out that you and Quinn hooked up, and you ignored it, even though you knew something was different back then. You also know that Brittany was in the Cheerios with Quinn, that's the only time she ever knew your best friend well enough to have such a secret on her, but it makes total sense. All head cheerleaders have something over every member of the squad, like a power move in case they ever step out of line, and it smacks you square in the jaw when you realise that you were Brittany's little secret.
The co-captain of the Cheerios had a crush on the nerdy best friend. That's something that would totally destroy someone's reputation, and just like that, everything makes sense.
It hits you, the rush of blood almost causing you to flatline and you begin connecting dots in your mind… One's that you didn't even know were there. Back when you wore thick rimmed glasses and was kissing Brittany's friends in her closet on a dare at her birthday, you knew that she would look at you differently. She always had a soft spot for you and defended you when bullies tried to throw slushee's your way. You'd already decided back then that she was out of reach, but now Quinn's saying this, you're starting to realise that maybe you haven't been alone in the feelings department the entire time that you've been friends.
She's liked you all along.
"Oh," you hear, a knowing grin in the tone and look back up, forcing your body to breathe properly as you meet Quinn's stare. "You didn't know that," she grins, and you can see the deviousness in her expression but for once, you don't want to smack (or fuck) it out of her. "That's… interesting."
Interesting? That changes fucking everything.
Brittany loves you. She fucking loves you and she always has, just like she said and you didn't know what to say back at the security gate. You didn't know how to reply to her because you were so doubtful. You were so scared she didn't mean it and thought it was too late because her realisation of feelings was too late...
But it wasn't. It isn't too late and now you're thinking about all the times she's looked at you and how it differs to anyone else she looks at. Now you're remembering cuddling her to sleep and playing with her hair and how she played with yours and you know you've never been just friends.
Both of you were blind to it.
Now... Now you're not though. Now you can hear her voice inside your head saying all the things she used to, but in a complete different way. Now you can hear her tell you, you are beautiful, even before your glow up, despite you'll always refusing to believe it. Now you can see why there was fireworks when you kissed her and why you never could prior to this, and the same with her too.
Had you ventured out of the friendzone for two seconds, you know what you would've found. Brittany apparently knew that, and now you understand why she was so damn scared to tell you she loved you back.
Because it meant losing you in more ways than one.
And you can't be mad at her for that anymore. Not when you just did the same thing she did to you, almost five months ago now.
"Holy shit," Mercedes chimes, grabbing your forearm and holding it tightly, eyes wide but a huge smile on her face, teeth bared and all. "She really does love you... She always has. She was telling the truth," she exclaims, throwing her other hand up in the air and several passengers turn their attention to you, which would make heat rise to your cheeks if you weren't running completely cold inside or paying any attention to anything but replaying your entire relationship with Brittany and seeing it through different eyes. "What the fuck are you still doing here? Get off the damn plane!"
You're still very much in shock, mouth open and super fucking dry and you don't even get to think about your next move before there's the cup of alcohol being shoved back into your hand, from Cassie, and Mercedes is using the grip she has on your forearm to urge you up. You're on your feet in seconds, stood between them and Quinn grins widely at you, but in a slightly condescending way like she can't believe you're the last one to catch up on this.
"But m-my job," you try, the only question left inside your head, like even if Cassie yanked you back down and threatened your job, like you would stay. You don't think you even give a fuck if she fired you on the spot, because there's now this fire burning inside your chest, shooting through your muscles, and making you buzz as you glance around, bewildered, and confused, but you know what you need to do.
A hand grabs your other arm, and you look down to find your boss staring up at you, a fierce quirked eyebrow shot your way. "If you don't get off this plane," she starts, tilting her head to the side. "I'm going to fire your ass for sure."
It's all you need to hear before you're breathing a sigh of relief and clambering over Mercedes legs and past Quinn, towards the front of the plane, tripping over several bags in the walkway.
/
There's an air hostess, pulling closed the large door on the side of the plane when you get there.
You fall into the wall adjacent to it, trying to catch your breath and yell at her at the same time, but the slam echoes through the plane and you lurch forward, knowing you need to say something pronto and probably not in a way that would intimidate her. When the door shuts, you know you're about to take off and you're not sure how you're going to convince her to open it back up in a way that won't get you arrested, but you need to get off the damn plane.
"No, wait," you blurt out, finding eyes on you as the hostess spins around, startled. "I need to get off."
The hostess smiles at you softly, in a way that Quinn did when she first saw you sat there, and you shake your head because you know what she's going to say. "Door's locked, Miss. Please return to your seat," she sweeps out her hand to the walkway you just came from.
But you're not taking that. No way in hell this bitch is going to stop you from getting what you want, and you have to see Brittany. You need to tell her that it is enough, that you love her and that you will do anything to get your best friend back and more because you can't live without her either. Even being locked in a metal tube is reminding you that a life without her, isn't one that you'll ever be happy with because you miss everything about her too.
How she giggles and scrunches up her nose, every time you say something funny. How the colour of her eyes change depending on her mood. How she makes you want to be a better person, without even asking you to be, and as much as you're trying to be that better person, you might have to take back your promise about physical violence if this bitch doesn't get out the way. You swear you'll do some serious damage if she tries to stop you again.
"No, you don't understand–"
"Suzy?" A voice calls, way too sweetly to be real and your head snaps around, eyes finding Quinn coming towards you. She steps up to the other hostess, setting her hand over the one on the door and tilts her head to the side. "Do we have a problem?"
Suzy – as you just discovered – cowers in her spot but shakes her head. For once, you're fucking glad that Quinn's terrifying in an innocent kind of way. Girl could rip your head off whilst grinning. "No, Quinn. This lady was just asking to get off the plane, but unfortunately the door's closed and you know Captain's rules."
Quinn grins again, so disgustingly sweet that you almost gag, but she presses her lips together and turns to you. "Can I help you, ma'am?"
You go to blurt out some bullshit about how you're about to faint or have a medical emergency – you can't get arrest for that, right? – but someone must be looking down on you because then the little red phone, attached to the wall you just fell against, rings loudly, and makes you jump. Quinn stops grinning, turning more into a smirk and you just wait, breathing hard and heavy and praying that the pilot is on the phone and that a wheel fell off or something, because your mind is running blank.
Quinn plucks it off the wall, pulling it up to her ear and holds your eyes as someone talks down the line. It's too low for you to hear, but the blonde nods and the smirk grows, and you don't know Quinn well, nor do you particularly like her, but you think in another life you could've been close. She's as conniving and evil as you are, even if she uses her superpowers for the wrong things, apparently. Like Brittany slapping her and her fucking the person she likes in a toilet stall at a high school reunion. That kind of makes more sense now.
"Yes, Sir, of course," she bobs her head and wordlessly sets the phone back on the holder, cocking her head to the side. "It's your lucky day, Lopez," she says and beckons Suzy over, who quickly scrambles to her side and puts her ear up in the air as Quinn leans down to whisper into it.
Suzy nods too, reaching for the red phone and picks it up, dialling in a single digit on the pad until her voice is boomed overhead.
"If all passengers can make their way off the plane please. We've had an unexpected delay."
You frown, no idea what's going on but not really caring as you're now jigging in your spot, waiting for that damn door to open so you can fling yourself back into the airport and somehow find a ride back to Ohio. You don't have your shit with you – you even left your carry on in the overhead locker – but you don't care. You just need to get out of here and apparently, you've got the ticket to do so now, even if you're not entirely sure what happened.
Quinn does though, and for some reason, she seems to either notice the desperation in your eyes, or just isn't as much of a bitch as the high school version of her, and she's stepping towards the plane door, pressing down the handle with force until the hydraulics take over and it slides out and up. Then she's turning, jutting her chin out to the walkway and you're frowning, waiting for her to explain or take it back – she was a total bitch in high school and would've done shit like that just to prank you – but she rolls her eyes and literally grabs your arm, shoving you out until you're stumbling and whipping your head back around for another explanation.
"Some jackass pulled the fire alarm in one of the terminals," she says but her tone is hurried. "Now if that isn't a sign, I don't know what is," she tips with a knowing smile which spreads into a grin as she looks down the empty. "So go get her, Santana. It's been a long time coming."
You never thought you'd be grateful for Quinn Fabray, but here she is, proving you wrong and you suck your lips into your mouth, silently thanking her with one look that she rolls her eyes at again, but smiles at the same time.
Then you're gone, leg muscles burning as you sprint back into the airport and through the hundreds of people in your way.
/
The security guard that yelled at you earlier eyes you as you leap over the barriers, screaming for you to stop but you don't.
Not even the US army could stop you from getting back to Lima, but it's only when you get out to the taxi rank that you come across your first real hurdle and stop breathlessly, bent over with your hands pressed to your thighs as you try to suck in some oxygen. Everyone's left. There's no-one here to take you back to Lima, and you left your damn hand luggage on the freaking plane so you have zero cash on you, nor your phone and fuck. You should've put more thought into getting off the plane and what you're going to do after as you're now in a rut.
Apparently, it really is your lucky day, because as you curse the sky and scuff the bottom of your sneaker along the sidewalk, earning several glares from strangers who will lose their teeth if they keep looking, that you hear your name being called. It's happened so many fucking times in the past six months that you would be shocked, and maybe you need to search yourself for a GPS tag or something as someone always seems to know where you are, and you spin around, jerking your head back when you see a familiar face.
"Puck?" You say, eying the guy who's leaning against the far wall, cigarette in hand, much like you found him this morning when you wandered out your rented apartment. "What are you doing here?" You continue breathlessly, unsure if you're relieved he's here or curious as to why he is. You only saw Kurt and Brittany, so now you're confused.
He lets out a short laugh, coming over to you and blowing a trail of smoke over your head. "Someone had to pull the alarm to stop that plane from leaving," he answers and your face drops, but he grins. "Cassie thought you might need that ride."
And you're not sure whether you want to hug him or kiss him – and mentally note to do the same to your boss, as she apparently has communicated with him and that's why he's here – because he's your fucking hero right now, but you know he'd probably make a lewd comment and instead let out a long sigh of relief, realising that he's actually kind of a decent guy and you don't know what you would've done without him. Tears form in your eyes, but you shake them off and search the area for his truck, spying tit a few cars back, illegally parked in the taxi rank but there's not enough time to scold him about his choice of parking. You don't really give a fuck and he's the one that'll get a ticket, if anything, and you glance back to him as he speaks to you.
"We going back to Lima?"
You don't even answer, instead speed walking to his truck and sliding into the passenger seat as he clambers into the drivers side, and the action speaks for itself. Puck just grins and flicks on the ignition, and you've never been gladder for him in your life.
/
Last time Puck drove you from Columbus to Lima, it took an hour.
This time, it takes forty minutes, and you cling on to the inside of his truck, grasping the handles so tight as he dodges through traffic, going way over the speed limit, but you don't care. He's only matching the pace of your thoughts inside your mind as you deliberate what you're going to say to Brittany when you see her, but everything's still so messed up inside that you're hoping it'll just flow and something good will come of it.
You hope you're not too late this time. You hope you haven't screwed it up beyond repair, and that's another reason you don't care how fast Puck's driving, because it's distracting you from having a full mental breakdown as you worry over how to apologise, instead fearing for your safety as he clips about five car wing mirrors as he peels down the streets. You don't know if you're going to just blurt out those three words or explain everything, but before you can figure out which one, the tyres of the truck are screeching along the tarmac and you're roaring through the streets you grew up on, breaking hard when you get to your old apartment complex.
And it's not what you thought you'd do, but you freeze, hand on the door as you push it open, hovering before you can complete the action of climbing out the car as you stare up at the building.
You've been back to Lima twice since you left for New York, and you haven't even come back to this place yet. Where it all began (technically) and you take a few moments for the intensity of this situation to collide with your chest, stealing the breath you try to take. You haven't been back here since the night you left, after grabbing all your shit and now you're nervous for a different reason, shaking as you step on to the sidewalk and slow your movements, so they aren't hurried like they have been since you got off the plane.
Maybe you should've come here before, then it wouldn't be so daunting. You only know she still lives here from Kurt mentioning it a while back.
Considering you were sprinting through the airport and literally leaping over suitcases, it must come across strange that you've suddenly stopped moving so fast, and Puck calls your name from inside the car. You turn, peering over your shoulder and see him leaning over the passenger seat, eyes soft and understanding, as he reaches for the door and you aid him, wanting to apologise but there's time for that later.
Except he speaks before you can thank him for the ride, and your heart almost stops.
"You know she loves you, right?" Puck quirks, lifting a brow and smirking, his head bobbing like he's proud when you nod your own head. You know you heard it from Brittany herself, but for some reason you couldn't believe it, but now you've heard Quinn tell you about the crush that Brittany had on you and that just changes the perspective, and it makes everything make sense. You've just got to say the right thing to make it up to her. "Good... Now go get her," he winks and pulls the door shut loudly, eying you with a large grin and you spin around, taking in a deep breath.
This is it.
/
You take the stairs two at a time, throat tasting like metallic and lungs burning, legs too, until you're stood at the door of the apartment that holds a thousand memories.
This is the place where you two began, and where you might begin again, and you can't figure out if you're more excited or nervous. You're pretty sure you should've thrown up outside instead of holding it in, as your nerves are totally shot, but you've got adrenaline pulsing through your veins and making everything feel a little fluffier. It shouldn't be. This is literally a pinnacle point in your life, and it can either go really well or really badly and you don't want the last few months to go to waste because you're so sure that this is the beginning of something beautiful.
So you pace in your spot, giving yourself a little pep talk as you raise your fist to the wood, and you shut your eyes quickly, inhaling sharply and forcing your arm to move until you're rapping heavily on the door, knuckles throbbing at the pressure.
You don't know if she's going to open the door. You don't know if she's just going to ignore it and you'll have to climb up the tree and in through your old bedroom window – if it's even unlocked – and you get so worked up in the few seconds before it swings open that you almost pop a vein in your forehead holding your breath.
But then it does, the sound of the latch being flicked open before there's light beaming into the hallway, and you squint at the initial brightness, your mouth moving before you can even figure out what it's going to say.
"Brittany, I–"
"Santana?" The voice makes your blood run cold, and now you're frozen for a whole other reason because as you adjust to the light coming from inside the apartment, you also become aware that the blonde head of hair doesn't belong to the one you were expecting. It's fucking Sam. "What are you doing here?"
You would answer or blurt out the first thing that comes to mind, but then your eyes snap to him and you see that he's wearing only a pair of boxers. His abs of steel are out on display, and your mind tries to flit through memories of conversations about him and you do remember being told that he moved in with Brittany after you left, but that doesn't explain why he's in his fucking underwear. The worst case scenario pops into your head instantly, and your nails cut into your palm from where you're squeezing your hands into your fists and all logic flies out the window as you begin thinking about Sam fucking Brittany's brains out to get rid of the memories of you.
Before you know it, you're stumbling backwards, shaking your head, and instantly feeling stupid. This can't be happening.
"Was your flight cancelled or something?" He grumbles, not noticing your current state of panic and dread and fear, balling up inside you like a dangerous emotional grenade but you just stare at him, blinking repeatedly like it'll get your mind to switch off and not think about reasons why someone you were once bothered by, is stood almost naked in your old apartment. Even if he lives here, that's not normal and due to all the shit you've gone through, you can't help it when your mind convinces itself that Brittany might have gone to him for a shoulder to cry on, and instead accidentally fell into bed with him.
Maybe you're too late this time.
So needing to get the fuck out of here, you try to get yourself to speak. You suck in anything you can, feeling your lungs restrict as you think you're about to have a full blown panic attack, but then Sam's reaching out for you and grabbing you by the forearm, and you don't even get a chance to shout at him to get off you before he's tugging you over the threshold and inside somewhere that's too familiar. It makes your blood rush around your body faster, your head spin a little more and distantly, you take in the several football jerseys on the wall that didn't used to be there.
"Do I need to call 911 or something?"
You manage to force yourself to stop looking at the apartment and instead towards the almost naked guy in front of you who's now munching on a bag of chips, looking entirely unbothered considering the question he asked but he's being really casual and it's freaking you out more than him being there when you knocked on the door. He's just crunching loudly and awaiting a reply, and back when you thought that Brittany and Sam were going to do the scene that fateful night you left, you know that he was shifty as fuck back then, so if your thoughts were right, he'd probably be shifty now.
But he's just… Not.
"No," you get out, voice hoarse as you haven't talked since you saw the guy. He just wrinkles his nose up in confusion, his eyes dragging down your body and throws a few more chips in his mouth, before finishing his brief study of you and shrugging.
"Well, Brittany's back there if you're here to see her," he continues, and the name leaving his mouth makes your heart stop.
You don't know where 'back there' is, and judging by the way his eyes shoot down the hallway to the end bedroom, the one that used to be hers, you think you know and that makes your panic increase by tenfold. You don't know why she's locked up in her room, as she usually did that when she was moody or upset which could be the case here as you rejected her and got on a plane to fly back to New York, but the fear sets in harder when he leaves without another moment and head straight down the hallway, tossing the bag of chips on a side table before disappearing behind the same door.
He just went into Brittany's bedroom, and you tilt your head back, exhaling loudly and feeling humility set in as you close your eyes and finally drop your chin to your chest.
You're so stupid. After all this crap, after all this time, and everything you've been through, you think you've ruined it. You think you were the one for the ultimate destruction because it's just too much of a coincidence for Sam to be going into Brittany's room for other reasons, and he did just tell you she's back there and probably went to go and find her for you, but you don't want to be here when she comes out. Not now. Now it just feels like she's going to come out and you're going to have another emotional talk with zero ramifications, and you're tired of it.
You're tired of hurting. You're tired of loving her. You're tired of all this crap, and you don't think that you would be able to get over it, if you found out something happened between Sam and Brittany.
So you're not even going to find out.
You spin on your heel, making a beeline for the door, but naturally as you reach for it, you hear your name being called and then Sam's appearing again, in a t-shirt this time covering his body, and he looks more confused than before. If anything, it wasn't the person you would hope would be calling your name, but you're kind of glad as you can now slip away without seeing her and feeling a rush of emotion that'll no doubt make you flatline, and you just need to go and find another flight.
"Where are you going?"
You blink away the sudden heat at your eyes, as you prepare yourself to say you're leaving – again – but then Sam's stepping towards you and it kicks out a response. "Don't worry," you choke, voice strangled as your fingers twist the handle and you tug open the door. "Just don't–I wasn't here… Don't tell her I was here," you add on brokenly, voice wavering in a way that you know means you're about to cry – it's shaky and weak – and you turn away from him, putting one foot in front of the other as you prepare to leave for the final time.
But you can't.
"I already know."
You hear those three words, spoken by a different voice and for like, the third time since Puck dropped you off, you freeze. Your feet feel like they've got anchors on them, all your muscles tensing like you've just been electrocuted, and your head begins swimming with hazy grey, and you put all the energy you have left – which isn't much – to peer over your shoulder, just to find the source of the voice, like you didn't already know who it was, but your body always knows.
Just like it's always known you're in love with that voice and who it belongs to.
Brittany's standing there, beside the door to what used to be your bedroom, and she's looking smaller than ever. She's got a t-shirt on; one you recognise from years ago as you used to wear it to sleep. It's got a red Corvette on it, and was way too short on you, so looks like a crop top on her, but that's not as distracting as the look on her face. There's a crease in her brows, her bottom lip is sucked between perfect teeth and her eyes are bright blue, only highlighted because they're also super fucking red around the edges, like she's been crying for hours.
And it's only been about an hour and a half since you left her at the airport, so you know a river must have been shed since then.
Sam looks between you two, eyes wide and he backs off slowly, hands raised before he scurries back down the hallway to Brittany's room – or old room, you're not sure what the fuck is going on right now – and then you're left alone, your heartbeat pounding inside your ears, drowning out anything she might be saying. But you don't think she is saying anything; she's just staring at you, her eyes flitting around your face and her chest rising and falling in time with yours, and you're still panting from the adrenaline and thoughts about Sam comforting Brittany after your rejection, so you know she's feeling some type of overwhelming emotion.
But you don't say anything still. You just stand there, on other sides of the front room, eyes boring into each other and she's picking at the hem of your old t-shirt, her feet doing that pointing thing on the floor she does when she's nervous and shit, you know what that feels like. If it wasn't for the way your heart is beating uber fast, you'd probably faint. You're pretty sure the only thing keeping you standing is the fact she came out after hearing Sam call your name and hasn't broken eye contact since.
And you should say something. On the way over here, your mind was racing with thoughts of how you were going to tell her that she's the best thing in your life and always has been. You were thinking how you were going to explain that you fell in love with her when you were 16 years old, and you don't think you ever stopped. You were figuring out a way to convey all this hidden emotion that you've kept buried beneath the surface for so long, and how to apologise that you left her hanging because you didn't mean it.
You just didn't know how to process it. Too selfish and caught up in your own mental torment and made-up bullshit that's held you back so many times before.
But you just can't get it out. You can't seem to find the right words to say, and your eyes flit away from hers for two seconds, mind remembering how Sam disappeared into what you thought was Brittany's room, and that's the first thing that leaves your mouth.
"Why is Sam in your room?"
Brittany stills, but then her eyes drop away for the first time, and you think you see a smile on her face. She doesn't reply, which freaks you the fuck out, but then she's moving and walking up to you, slowly and hesitantly like you might run away – the door is still open, and grip is on the handle – and she's stopping a few steps away. She inhales deeply, her entire body shaking, and you see her wring her hands in front of her, and you used to know what that means but now you're all up in your head about every little thing she's doing.
"Come with me?" She breathes, but it's so scared that you feel your walls break down immediately. You don't want her to be scared. You came here to tell her you love her and sure, you should've said that instead of asking why Sam went into her room, but it does seem pretty important right now. "Please?"
You've never been one to say no to her before, so this time isn't any different and you gulp as you look to her hand, which raises slowly, offered out to you and you sink your teeth into your bottom lip, holding her eye for a long, nerve-wracking moment, trying to figure out why. You feel so damn delicate. You feel so vulnerable even though she's told you she loves you, and you love her, too, but you're still that terrified, four-eyed little dork that literally fell at her feet, almost a decade ago.
"Please?" She repeats, her hand held out strongly in front of you, no sign of quivering and you clench your jaw before you slip your hand into hers, ignoring the way your body fires up at the simple touch and she drags you towards the bedroom that used to be yours after you push the front door shut. You take a deep breath before she pushes the bedroom door open, but you're releasing it immediately when you step into the room, and all of your concerns fly out the window in an instant.
She drops your hand as she heads on inside, moving to stand in the centre of the room and you take a few seconds to scan your surroundings. You recognise everything in here, but it's in a different place as all the decorations used to be in her bedroom, on her bedroom walls, and you're confused but then after a few seconds, you get the answer to your question without her even saying a word.
She's moved into your room, and that's why Sam is in hers.
Your eyes move around slowly, taking it all in and realising that it's still very much your room too – everything you couldn't take is still in the same place – but then you land on a hoodie, in the middle of the bed, scrunched up like it was being cuddled to sleep and again, you recognise it.
Brittany's not only wearing your old t-shirt, but she sleeps with your old hoodie. It's next to a visibly tear-stained pillow and your chest cracks a little.
You almost buckle to the floor, but then she's talking and your vision snaps back to her, finding bright blue staring your way already.
"It's my room now," she whispers, and she rubs a hand up her opposite arm, like she's trying to soothe herself. "I lived with Artie for like, a month, I think, when you left," her face twists up, trying to remember the timeline, but you're not too bothered by that. "But I knew I had to come back here at some point because the landlord was pissed, and I did and... Santana," she breathes your name, making it sound like a sigh more than anything else and you bite your tongue, holding back any questions you have. You think she wants to be the one to talk again, which is a total contrast to how things were before you left and that's something you notice the most.
"I didn't know what to do with myself after you left…" She admits, clenching her jaw but not breaking eye contact. "I was terrified I'd lost you completely and I couldn't sleep in my own room, so I came into yours one night and I just…" She takes in a deep breath, shaking her head and you see a single tear fall from her eye, but she swipes it away quickly and you resist the urge to close the gap between you and just hug her. "I never left. It was like my body didn't know how to relax when you weren't around, and I was so scared because I'd been there before with you," she explains, but then you're confused.
She'd been there before with you? You don't even know what she means, and it must show on your face because you frown, eyes flickering around the room nervously as you shift your weight from one leg to the other and it makes her move. Taking a deep breath in, Brittany steps forward, not too far to make you back off, but enough that you feel a familiar prickle shoot down your spine, like your body knows she's within touching distance. It's like a spark goes off every time she's near you.
"I never told you, but," she pauses and exhales slowly, like she's calming herself down but when her eyes meet yours, you stop breathing completely. There's something terrifying, but so exciting in her eyes, and you saw it when she chased you at the airport. "I had a thing for you back in high school, but I was so worried about losing you as a friend because we were just teenagers. We didn't know anything, and I needed you in my life," she gasps, hand pressing to her chest as she recalls a story that, even though you've heard from Quinn, hits you differently.
"I didn't even know I still felt that way until the reunion," she dips her head, and you think she's about to avoid telling you a specific part, but when she lifts her head again, you see guilt on her face and know what's coming. "I only knew for sure how I felt when I slapped Quinn because she was talking crap about you and I didn't want to hear it," she shakes her head. "I still can't believe I did that," she breathes, guilt clear in her twisted smile and you manage a weak smile to comfort her. You've always wanted to slap Quinn Fabray for the way she treated you back in high school. "But it like, ignited something inside of me. Like an old flame I thought had burnt out," she gulps and squints. "You know?"
Yeah, you do know. That turning point for you was when you kissed her. Sure, you felt a little differently, but it took kissing her to show you colours you'd never seen before. Kissing her was like opening a whole new chapter to a book you thought was finished, and you can't help but feel the rush collide heavily with your chest as you think that maybe, you were wrong this entire time.
"Yeah… I know," you manage to get out.
"And then you came back with that stupid after sex smile on your face that I hate now," she spits and you don't get it for a long moment, but then you realise she means the stupid after sex smile you used to do with other people you slept with. You have an entirely different smile with her afterwards, and you think she's talking about that. "After disappearing at the same time as Quinn, and I knew she had dug her claws in and got to you first," she shrugs, and you gulp. You wish she was wrong. "But I didn't like it and I told Kurt and he just looked at me like I was dumb," she chokes out. "Which I was, because deep inside... " Blue eyes meet yours and hold them. "I always knew how I felt, and I guess I was dumb for ignoring it."
You get angry though. You feel fury burn deep within as you watch Brittany believe the one thing that you've always told her she isn't, all because Kurt couldn't keep his judgemental trap shut, but then you think that maybe she's telling you this as telling him resulted in her realising she felt something for you.
And when she smiles at you sheepishly, throwing in a one shoulder shrug, you know she's confirming what's in your head and it all just sort of... clicks together. Every touch, every look, every word, and every moment you've ever shared is staring you right back in the face, laughing because it knows you were dumb too. You were dumb for not seeing them for what they were, instead way too up in your head and convincing yourself that you've just been best friends, all this time.
She sees the opportunity of your mind being in overdrive and steps forward, close enough that she could grab your hand with one small movement, but she doesn't. Instead, she tucks her hands beneath her arms like she's stopping herself from reaching out and grabbing you. In all honesty, you're in such a state of shock, you don't know how you'd react if she did. You're kind of having one of those epiphanies when you realise everything in your life has been a lie. That type of thing tends to have an effect on a person.
"Then the porno happened and before I knew it, we were going to have sex and I tried to be normal, but you were just so playful it scared me," Brittany explains, her voice weak and you gulp thickly. You only did that because you were scared that she was messing about and not having sex be a big deal between you two.
"I didn't like the distance that was growing between us, and Sugar told me to just be normal and be friends again if this new thing wasn't working, "she chokes out, tears falling from her eyes now. "I shouldn't have listened, I mean... She is screwing Puck," she jokes, and you sniffle, not even realising you're crying until a broken sob leaves your chest. "But I just wanted my best friend back and I thought that's what you wanted," her feet move forward one more step until your bodies are almost pressed against each other and you're having to tilt your head back to look up at her.
But it wasn't like that. Even after all the bullcrap, you asked her what she wanted, and she didn't reply. You can actually count multiple times when you asked her, and the ball was in her court then. She also decided to do the scene with Sam, some petty revenge to get you back for doing something you never even did.
And you have to make that point clear. That broke you heart more than anything because actions speak louder than words.
"But you were gonna do the scene."
Brittany clenches her jaw but nods. "I really am dumb," is all she has to say and it's not what you wanted, but it's almost better. She gives you a light tipped smile when your mouth opens to defend her, like it always does, but you don't think she wants you to this time. "It was stupid and childish, but I knew you'd know how you felt if you saw me and Sam together. I know I definitely did when I saw you and Dani," she shrugs, and you want to be mad...
But she's got a point.
You remember the reaction you had when she just walked in the damn diner all dressed up; you couldn't have got out your chair any quicker before dragging her to the side. It fired you up inside, like a spark on a gas leak and you couldn't contain the burning you felt, imagining having to see Sam do things to Brittany that you had done. You wanted to be the only one, and as much as you want to be irritated that Brittany went to that extent to draw a reaction out of you, you also know you could've been more honest as to why you and Artie chose to cut the scene in the first place.
You pretended it was because you had enough film time, when the truth all along was you just couldn't hack it.
"I shouldn't have told Dani it was okay to sleep with you if you were okay with it because I wasn't, but I didn't know how to explain that…" Brittany continues, shrugging, lips pinching together and tears in her eyes again. "And when you walked to your room with her at the party… It broke my heart. I just started crying and Sugar had to take me to hers and I-I…"
Her eyes flit to you, after focusing on the floor as she explains, and you see something you don't recognise. Almost like a heavy guilt mixed with a tinge of anger, directed at you, but you want to hear this. You want to know why it went down the way it did.
"I-I just wanted to make you realise," she admits, and a frown appears on your face. "I thought if it meant you sleeping with Dani, and me sleeping with Sam then– " Her voices breaks, cutting off her words and she shakes her head, new tears falling. "Then maybe you would know for sure, and we would make it work," she lifts her shoulders again, and you know she's coming to an end. "I just never thought you'd leave."
You never thought you'd leave either. Maybe stay with Holly or someone else for a while, create your own life but still in the town but you had to, and you still don't even remember making a conscious decision, if you're honest. You just drove and drove until you were there and then the three months sped by and everything happened too fast but felt too slow at the time. Even now, you're not sure that leaving was the right choice, but you can't change it and so you have to move past it.
And the more you think about that, you more you think that that's the type of attitude you need to take here. You're in love with her, you can't lie anymore. She's in love with you and now she's stood here, explaining herself but all you want to do is kiss her. She could explain it for hours and hours, but you've wasted five months now, not being true to yourself and holding back all of your emotions and you can't change the past, but you can carve the future.
"I never slept with Dani," you get out, your face stoic now, the tears having backed off temporarily. "I couldn't."
Brittany's breath hitches in her throat, but she knows that already. "I know… I never slept with Sam. Never have, never will," she sucks her lips in and looks between your eyes for a long second. "I needed help with rent, and he needed a place to stay until he leaves for New York."
You can't help but crack a smile, feeling that damn friendly familiarity creeping in because you've gone from a dramatic declaration of love to almost chatting away normally, and you duck your chin to your chest to hide when it spreads across your face completely. You hear a breath hitch again, but just shake your head and take a step forward, shyly glancing up with squinted eyes as she watches you move, now seeming more nervous than anything else but you're not.
You've gone from vibrating with fear to being as cool as a cucumber, and it's because you've had that epiphany where you realised your entire life has been a lie, but in the best way possible. It has been a lie. You've always loved her, and she's always loved you but neither of you saw it. Everyone else did, or so that's what you think, and even though you have no idea what you're going to do now – as you left your luggage and purse on the plane – you are sure that there's one thing you won't even have to debate.
You and her.
"So, um," you clear your throat, the smile creeping through in your tone and you reach out, gingerly stroking down the back of her hand until she twists it, lacing your fingers together. You stutter out a breath at the contact, knowing this is the first step of something entirely new, but entirely familiar as well and your eyes find blue ones instantly, but you were going somewhere with this. "Sounds like you're gonna need a roommate again," you whisper.
A gasp comes from Brittany, but you take the opportunity to grab her other hand and hold it in the same way, before tilting your chin up to look her in the eye again. She still looks nervous, but she's breathing harder now and like she needs you to repeat that over and over, but you're not going to. She heard you the first time, so you just hold her stare, watching the blue sparkle in her eyes as you silently confirm it instead, with a small bob of your head.
"I think I might," she whispers, biting on her bottom lip as it begins lifting into a smile. "Do you know anyone?" She quirks, a burst of confidence shining through as she realises what you're saying.
And that's all it takes.
Just with that one smile, with that one question, you feel the words bubble up your throat with zero fear and hesitation, and even though you should be thinking about the time where you've done this before, put your heart out on the line, instead you're thinking you just need to say it instead of everything else. Because there's one thing you haven't ever officially said to her, or said back to her, is that you love her too, and so you steal yourself, sucking in a deep breath and exhaling it out like it'll calm your rapidly beating heart as it leaves your mouth.
"Someone that's in love with you, maybe," you say, like it isn't the biggest thing you've ever said, and the smile drops from Brittany's face, blue eyes widening and her jaw going slack. "Someone like me."
Brittany chooses not to reply, instead a grin breaking across her face and you know this is the moment. This is the beginning of the end for you two, but an end that'll last for eternity and you bite down on your bottom lip quickly, as if you can control the size of your smile as you beam at her, but she just scrunches her nose up and somehow, you fall in love all over again. You let out a sigh, tilting your head to the side as she takes your breath away and then she's moving, leaning down, and dropping one hand to tilt your chin up.
But at the last second, as she's about to kiss you and solidify the official beginning of the next stage, she reels back and your eyes pop open. You didn't even know you shut them but panic still strikes through you and you wait for an answer, but then you note the glint in her eye and oh God, she's going to be adorable.
"You're gonna have to wait though, because Sam's not moving for a month," she whispers, the words painting against your lips through a breath but there's that playful tone to it.
You roll your eyes and grin at her. "You're an idiot," you whisper and push your lips to hers to shut her up before she can say anything else. Your hands shoot to her waist and you both fall back against the bed, your entire body lighting up when her tongue strokes against yours.
/
Happily ever after.