Santana opened her bedroom door and walked out, stretching and yawning. Last night was the first night that she'd managed to get a decent amount of sleep. Bella was just over a month old and had finally started sleeping through the night, allowing Santana her much-needed rest.
"Morning!" Kurt sang from the kitchen.
"Mmmm," Santana mumbled, grabbing the coffee pot and a mug.
"Still having trouble sleeping?" Kurt asked with concern. "You know that we're all happy to take over the 2 AM Bella wake-up calls, Santana. You need to sleep too."
"S'fine," Santana replied, yawning. "She slept through last night. I'm just not used to getting a full night's sleep, so I still woke up every two hours."
"Aw, I'm sorry," Kurt said sympathetically. "Is there anything we can do to help?"
Santana took a sip of her black coffee and let the hot liquid travel down her throat before answering, "I was going to take her out anyway. She should stay awake long enough to experience the day."
"Okay, great," Kurt said, silently breathing a sigh of relief.
He dared not mention to Santana that he'd heard her crying herself to sleep on more than one occasion. The anniversary of her leaving was coming up soon, and he was pretty sure that Santana was still mourning the loss of her blonde ray of sunshine.
Kurt downed his orange juice. "How about you and Bella walk me to work?" he suggested. "It's not too cold for her to be out, and you'd get an early start to your day."
"Sure," Santana agreed after a thought. "Give me 15 to get us ready?"
Kurt nodded and watched Santana walk back into her bedroom. He sighed. Santana and Brittany had always been like one entity. Although they weren't together now, he had no doubt that one would somehow find the other again. And he was scared shitless of the effect that would have not only on Santana, but on little Bella too.
"Deep in thought so early," Rachel commented as she came out of the room she shared with Finn.
"Hmmm," Kurt mused in agreement, his thoughts still on the potential reappearance of the blonde dancer.
"You okay, Kurt?" Rachel asked, narrowing her eyes in concern.
"I suppose." He sighed. "You know what next Thursday is, right?"
Rachel's head dropped. "Yes. Unfortunately, that's a hard one to forget."
"She's been crying," Kurt said in a low voice, not wanting Santana to overhear him through the open door.
"I know," Rachel replied, sighing. "I heard her the other night when I got up to make Finn some warm milk."
Kurt rolled his eyes. "Rach, she only goes back to work at the end of the month, so we need to keep her busy. I've already got her walking me to work with Bella today, but she can't be home all day every day. She needs to get back out into the world."
Rachel nodded. "But Santana has to want to heal. She won't be able to if she keeps fighting it."
"I think she wants to," Kurt said softly, his heart aching for his friend. "She kept so much pain inside her in high school. I think that she trusts us enough to help her deal with it, when the time comes. And I think that time is coming."
Rachel smiled and put a hand on Kurt's shoulder. "I'm glad you're here for her, Kurt. Lord knows it took a long time for Santana and me to become close, but you two have a special bond. If it hadn't been for you, I'm pretty sure things would've been much worse."
Kurt placed a hand over Rachel's and squeezed.
"Are we on Dr. Phil?" Santana commented sardonically as she walked out of her bedroom, cradling a sleeping Bella. She shot a crooked grin Kurt's way, and he smiled back. Maybe, just maybe, Santana would be okay.
"Ready?" he asked, slipping off the chair and grabbing his oversized man-bag.
Santana gently placed Bella in the stroller that Finn and Rachel had bought her, amongst much protestation. Bella didn't stir as Santana tucked the soft baby blanket (courtesy of Kurt, naturally) around her daughter.
"Ready for our first outing," she said proudly.
"Come on, Mama," Kurt said affectionately, throwing his arm around Santana's shoulder and squeezing. "Time to get you outside these four walls."
Santana smiled and followed Kurt out the door.
Santana sat frozen on the bed. She couldn't move. Her brow was furrowed into a permanent frown. The towel that she held around her body was bunched tightly in her fist.
"Santana," Brittany said softly, moving to sit next to her girlfriend. "Please say something."
She stood up as soon as Brittany sat down, causing a hurt look to cross the blonde's features.
"What the hell am I supposed to say?" Santana said slowly in a low voice. This had to be some kind of joke. No, it was a dream, a nightmare. She'd wake up from it soon.
"San, I'm sorry," Brittany began before Santana's anger spiked.
"Sorry?!" she shouted. "You can be sorry if you forget your keys. You can be sorry if you kick me when we're sleeping. You can be sorry if you mix the colors with the whites when we do laundry."
"I only did that once," Brittany muttered.
"Damn it, Brittany!" Santana yelled, tears springing to her eyes. "You can't be sorry when you're doing this on purpose. You're being selfish, and that's not fair to me. Or to us."
"Selfish?" Brittany repeated, also standing, her eyes flashing. "Santana, I have never been selfish. I followed you here, because it's where you wanted to go. I could've stayed in Ohio or gone to LA, but I came here for you. We said that New York also has great opportunities for dancers, and now that I get an opportunity, you're saying that I'm being selfish for taking it? That's a little hypocritical, don't you think?"
Suddenly, Brittany's eyes went wide as she heard Santana's breathing speed up dangerously. This had only ever happened twice before. Santana was having a panic attack.
"Shit," she cursed, running over to her girlfriend. "Sit down, San."
Santana pulled her hand away, but her breaths just became more and more erratic, and Brittany could hear her gasping for air.
"Don't be an idiot, Santana," Brittany said sharply. "I know what to do. Lie down on the bed."
The Latina glared at the blonde, but she obeyed, lying face down on the bed, burying her head underneath a pillow. Brittany closed her eyes and took a deep breath before dropping the towel still around her and straddling her butt.
"What the fuck, Britt?" she breathed out angrily, gasping for air and trying to push her off.
"I can't do this with a towel around me," Brittany said firmly. "I'm not stupid enough to try something with you now."
Santana mumbled something that Brittany couldn't catch, and part of her was glad she didn't. Santana resorted to insults when she was hurting. Normally, Brittany would brush them off, but Santana knew what words would cut deeply, and she was hurting enough to bring those out, consequences be damned.
Once Santana was settled again, Brittany gently tugged her towel down, with some resistance from the Latina. Eventually, she had her back exposed. Brittany methodically started pushing on pressure points on Santana's back and neck, gently rubbing the skin around it.
After about five minutes, Santana's breathing returned to normal, but she'd started shaking. Brittany knelt next to her in alarm and turned her over. Her heart almost broke at the sight of Santana weeping. Not just crying. The kind of weeping that came from the very soul.
"San," Brittany said softly. "I don't know what to do."
"D-don't g-g-go!" Santana sobbed, trying to look angry but failing miserably.
Brittany didn't say anything and looked down.
"Why w-won't you stay with m-me?" Santana shouted, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Am I not enough f-for you to stay?"
"Santana, of course you are," Brittany said softly, her hand stroking the Latina's bare back. "You're everything."
"Then w-why, Brittany?" Santana asked in a broken voice.
Brittany hated how helpless she sounded. This was Santana Lopez, for Christ's sake! Uber-confident and sassy 24/7. She knew that she needed to say the right words here. Unfortunately, words were Santana's department. "San," she began slowly, "if I stay here and let this chance pass me by, I'm scared that I'm going to regret it for the rest of my life. These kinds of opportunities don't come around twice in a lifetime." She paused and thought. "I'm scared that I'm going to end up blaming you, because I stayed for you."
Santana sat up suddenly, pushing Brittany's comforting hand away. She pulled the towel tightly around her and moved to the edge of the bed. "You won't stay for you," she said simply. Brittany had never heard her voice so flat and devoid of any emotion.
"What do you mean?" Brittany asked, her brow furrowing in confusion.
"I mean that you won't stay because you want to."
"Santana—"
"No!" Santana shouted. "You won't stay for you, because you want this tour—" Her voice broke again, and tears ran down her face, breaking Brittany's heart, "more than you want me."
"God, no, that's not it!" Brittany said desperately, moving closer to the love of her life, terrified that this wasn't going the way she'd hoped. "Santana, I love you more than anything in this whole world, and I will never love anyone or anything as much as I love you. You're my everything."
"Clearly I'm not, Brittany!" Santana yelled. "If I were, you wouldn't be leaving me!"
"But I'm not going forever, San," Brittany tried to reason. "It's only for a year. It's a worldwide tour, and Rihanna asked for me personally. I can't pass this up."
"Fine."
Brittany blinked. "What?"
"Go."
"San—"
"GO!"
Brittany swallowed, her chest hurting. This wasn't going at all how she'd planned. "Baby, please," she begged. "I love you. Don't hate me."
"Brittany." Santana's voice was firm but devoid of emotion, reminding Brittany of all those times in high school when she would wake up in Brittany's bed after a night of love-making and pretend that it meant nothing. "Go on your stupid tour. Just know that if you walk out that door, we're done. It's this or me."
"What?" Brittany whispered, tears filling her eyes. "San, you can't mean that."
"Can't I?" Santana said angrily. "Nevermind that you're choosing a tour over me, but how do I know that you're going to stay faithful to me? No, I'm not about to make that mistake twice."
That made Brittany's temper flare. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"
Santana just folded her arms across her chest and looked at Brittany coldly.
"You're unbelievable!" Brittany said in exasperation. "I was always yours, Santana. You were the one who never wanted me the way I wanted you. If you'd asked me, I would've been yours in a heartbeat. But you pushed me away, and every time you hooked up with another guy, my heart broke. Did you care? No. But I loved you, so I took it, because I knew you'd come back to me in the end. And you did, every time. Then, the one time I managed to find a good guy, you couldn't handle it and didn't want to wait for me. Don't you dare tell me that I wasn't faithful to you."
Brittany was crying now, tears blurring her vision, and she wiped them away angrily.
"I can't believe that after everything we went through together, you're still the same petty Santana from high school. I thought you'd grown up."
Santana took the bait. "I did grow up. I got us out of Lima, just like we'd planned. We're in the biggest city in the world on our own, and now you want to leave!"
Brittany shook her head. "I seriously thought that after I waited for you for two years, you'd trust me enough to come back to you after living out my dream. But I guess your dream is the only one that matters, isn't it, Santana?"
"We are the dream," Santana replied hotly. "At least I thought we were. We always said that as long as we were together, we could do anything. Guess you faded on that idea pretty quick, huh?"
"Oh my God!" Brittany shouted. "Do you hear yourself? You sound like a child!"
Santana didn't say anything, her mask firmly in place. Brittany was surprised that she still remembered how to use it.
After a long pause, she shook her head. "Just go, Brittany. Leave. It's clearly what you want."
Brittany's eyes stung. "Santana…this is something I have to do."
The Latina just shrugged nonchalantly, as if she didn't care. "Fine. Like I said, it's this or me. So go."
At a loss for words, Brittany turned to the closet and slowly started getting dressed. Santana simply sat and watched in silence.
When Brittany finished, she turned to the Latina and ran a hand through her hair. "I wish that things didn't end like this, but…" She trailed off, not sure what else to say. "I wish that I had been enough for you, Santana."
She turned and walked out of the bedroom and out of Santana's life.