Title: The World is a Stage 8/?
Pairing: Brittany/Santana, Brittany/OC
Word Count: 1900
Disclaimer: Glee is copyrighted and belongs to Ryan Murphy and Fox. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Use of other personalities is not a reflection of their real lives and is completely fictional.
Summary: Sort of AU/Future fic, the lives of Santana and Brittany in their early twenties.
Spoilers: References to Season 1.
Previous chapters here: Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7
She wasn’t quite sure exactly how long they had stayed that way. She knew her back ached, her pyjama top was sodden with tears and she felt an enormous amount of guilt. All she could do right now was be there for her friend, to hold her, to comfort her and to just be with her. Santana’s sobs had subsided somewhat, she had completely let go emotionally for what she thought may have been the first time ever. The Latina started to stir in the blonde’s arms, she sniffled and swiped at her eyes with her hands before looking up into concerned blue eyes. Santana’s usually perfect complexion was now spoilt by puffy red, teary eyes, she looked lost and forlorn, her brown eyes empty and afraid. Both women were scared to speak. Brittany was at a loss for words, she was deeply sorry and didn’t know how to respond to Santana’s outburst. On the other hand, Santana was afraid she would break down again if she tried to talk again. Brittany’s arms remained wrapped around the brunette to comfort her. They stood, simply looking into each other’s eyes, communicating silently, apologies and forgiveness flowing from one to the other and back again. The moment had given Brittany some confidence, she started by stroking Santana’s hair, the Latina’s face softened a little, enjoying the touch of Brittany’s hand in her hair.
“I didn’t want to break your heart.” Brittany whispered, her own tears glistening in her eyes.
“I know.” Santana’s tone matched the blondes. “But why Brit? I still don’t understand.” She said sadly, a little louder, her voice breaking. Brittany looked up to the ceiling, willing the tears to stay in her eyes, “Look at me Brittany, please.” Santana pleaded gently. The blonde relented and slowly lowered her head, as soon as her eyes met the brunette’s her tears spilt.
It was a good move. Santana had suggested the girls move into the living room where they could sit and talk in comfort. The Latina had held Brittany’s hand in her own, not letting go. She absentmindedly stroked her thumb over the back of the blonde’s hand, her head cocked to one side, her eyes steady on the girl next to her, she listened intently as Brittany tried to explain what had been going through her mind five years previous.
“All my life people told me I couldn’t do this or I couldn’t do that.” The blonde began. She looked up into Santana’s chocolaty eyes, she nodded with encouragement for Brittany to continue. “They would tell me I wouldn’t understand or was too dumb. Except you, you never did that. You made life easy for me, it was like, oh you know when you walk through a bunch of trees and there’s loads of branches in your way and they scratch you and stuff?” Santana nodded with a frown, “It was like you were walking in front of me, holding the branches back so I wouldn’t get scratched, so I wouldn’t feel pain.” The Latina smiled at the analogy. Brittany continued, “I loved you so much, I let you. You carried me you made all my decisions for me. And then we had to make our college choices. I knew I wouldn’t get into a college, I wasn’t smart enough and I didn’t want to go to college, all I ever wanted to be was a dancer. When you told me you were going to New York and when you assumed I would be coming with you I started to think.” Brittany paused, she looked at Santana, the brunette’s face was concentrated, hanging onto the blonde’s every word. “I was 18, my mum and dad were telling me I was now an adult and about time I started acting like one.” Brittany stopped when Santana laughed, she frowned a little.
“I’m sorry.” Santana said between giggles, “My parents said the same thing to me.” Brittany smiled and began laughing, the Latina’s laugh was infectious and always caused the blonde to join in the laughter. When the giggling subsided, Brittany carried on.
“It scared me. I had to grow up, I was going to have to take on new responsibilities and I just, it was all or nothing San.” She cried, before Santana could speak Brittany continued. “I loved you, Santana I loved you so much. You chose to go to New York, to go to college and start your career and begin your life. I told you I didn’t want to go with you because I wanted to prove I could start my own life without having to depend on anyone. I wanted to prove I wasn’t dumb and I wasn’t stupid and I could make my own decisions. I don’t think I can explain it any other way. I didn’t want to break your heart, I thought we would be together again, I got through it because I thought we would be together again and then the years went by and, and . . .” Brittany began to sob, it was all Santana could do to pull the blonde into her lap and let the blonde girl cry into her shoulder.
Moments later, Brittany pulled away from Santana and dared a glance at the other girl. It was the brunette that spoke first. “You thought I was coming back.” Santana stated. “I thought we were over, but then I thought maybe one day we could be together again, that you needed time and you would find me when you were ready.” The Latina sighed, “It’s so damn complicated.” She looked at Brittany, the blonde refused to meet her eyes. Santana’s eyes narrowed. “That’s not all is it Brittany? There’s something you’re not telling me, because this whole thing still doesn’t make sense to me, I don’t believe that you would leave me because of the poor reasons you’re giving me.”
“Don’t hate me.” Brittany begged, still not meeting Santana’s gaze.
“I told you, I could never hate you. No more lies Brit, just tell me what it is. We can’t work through this if you don’t tell me.” The brunette said, her hand lightly stroking Brittany’s bare knee. The blonde took a deep breath and finally looked into Santana’s eyes. When she saw the love and encouragement there, her confidence grew and she began to talk.
“I, I couldn’t go with you because my parents sent me to my aunt’s house in Washington.”
“D.C? That’s not far from New York . . .”
“No, Washington State, I was in Seattle.”
“Okaaaay.” Santana drawled, unsure where this was heading. “Why?” she offered a gentle push as she saw Brittany falter.
“I was pregnant.” The other girl rushed out. Santana stared, blankly at Brittany, her mouth agape, her brow furrowed, clearly confused and disbelieving of what she was hearing. “San?” Brittany asked warily, worried of her friend’s reaction.
“You were, what? When? How?”
“San, you know how babies are made right?” Brittany asked.
“Yes, geez Brit, I mean, who? When?” Santana asked eerily calm.
“You remember Kurt’s birthday, with you and me and Finn and . . .”
“Yes.” Santana cut the other girl off before she could proceed, she both remembered and regretted that night very much. “Shit Brit, why didn’t you tell me?”
“I hated myself San and you would have hated me too.” Brittany said sadly, silent tears running tracks down her porcelain features. “I told my sister and my Mom and Dad found out and they let me say goodbye to you before I had to leave.” Santana was still trying to process all of this information, so Brittany kept talking. “You were going to College, you had a career planned, you deserved to make a life for yourself, if I had told you, you would have dumped me anyway or wanted to stay. It was just the best for both of us.”
“How can you know that Brit?” Santana blasted suddenly. “I’m sorry.” She said quickly. “What happened to the baby?”
“I gave her up for adoption.” The blonde said quietly.
“Is that what you wanted?” Santana asked.
“It was for the best.”
“That’s not what I asked Brit.”
“I honestly don’t know San. She was so small and beautiful and I cried for weeks after. But in the end, it was the best thing for both of us.” Brittany said wistfully. Santana hugged the dancer close to her, closing her eyes and willing the hurt and pain of five years of torment and guilt away from the blonde.
“I am so sorry Brittany. I’m sorry you had to go through all of that alone and I’m sorry you couldn’t tell me and I’m most sorry for blaming you for our break up when you thought you were doing what was right. You’re a better person than me Brittany and even though I wasn’t there for you then, I’m here for you now. I loved you Brit, if you had come to me at any time during those five years for anything, I would have been here for you.”
“I didn’t know how to find you. I called your mom and she said you didn’t ever want to see me again.”
“You shouldn’t have believed her. You know what she’s like Brit, she’s crazy, she . . .” Santana rambled
“I’m sorry Santana. She said you were too busy, that you had moved on. And you were on TV and stuff” Santana ran a hand through Brittany’s blonde locks.
“We can apologise all day long the fact is it’s not going to change anything.” Santana reasoned.
“Can we be friends?” Brittany asked sadly.
“Yes, of course.” Santana answered immediately, “I don’t want to have to live without you in my life again. We have to make a pact Brit.” She said.
“Yeah?” Brittany asked confused.
“To not think about what could have been.”
“Ok.” Brittany agreed with a smile.
“And, we’ve done enough talking and crying, it’s too exhausting and confusing and frustrating and I’m going to have words with my mother.” Santana rambled with a nervous laugh.
“Ok.” The blonde repeated. “Friends?” Santana nodded.
“Friends.” She affirmed. “Come here.” She said pulling Brittany closer, if it was at all possible. Brittany hugged her tightly, squeezing as hard as she possibly could. “Brit.” Santana squeaked, “Brit. Need. To. Breath.”
“Oh right.” The dancer realised and loosened her grip, eliciting a huge gasp for air from Santana.
“Oh crap.” Santana squealed upon casting her eyes over the clock on the mantelpiece “We need to be on set in an hour.” Brittany jumped up off of the brunette, she smiled mischievously at Santana and made a dash for the door.
“Race you to the bathroom.” She sang and giggled at the same time. Santana stood slowly and frowned.
“I have four bathrooms.” She declared to an empty room before rolling her eyes and racing after the blonde.