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text ✉ brittana

Brittany: I don't know, but it can't be good honey.

Brittany: I wish you wouldn't go.

Santana: I guess I can see if they would be willing to wait for the next available flight.

Santana: My house is too big, Britt. I miss them.

text ✉ brittana

Brittany: There's really no way to convince you is there?

Brittany: What if it's like Columbus? You don't know what it was like out there.

Brittany: If something happened I'd never forgive myself.

Brittany: Or you.

Santana: Do you think it'd be like Columbus?

Santana: You're making me nervous now.

text ✉ brittana

Brittany: So they're sending their teenage daughter all alone to drive out of state to pick them up? Maybe if they wait a few days the flights will get cleared again.

Brittany: I don't want you to go.

Santana: It's not that serious, Britt.

Santana: Are you feeling okay?

text ✉ brittana

Brittany: Why can't they rent a car then? Or just... wait? If they can't fly back there's probably a really good reason.

Brittany: [UNSENT] What if you don't come back?

Brittany: I don't know. What if I forget without someone to remind me? Maybe I should take them all.

Santana: Who knows, I didn't ask. Why would they wait? They're conference is over. They want to come home.

Santana: Send me a picture of the label and I'll remind you when you can take them. Don't even joke.

text ✉ brittana

Brittany: What do you mean? You can't drive to Illinois.

Brittany: Better. I got some like super powered midol from the doctor for my shoulder.

Santana: I have to. I have to pick up my parents. Apparently all the possible flights home have been cancelled, which is weird, but whatever. I'll probably spend the night at their hotel and be home Tuesday night.

Santana: That sounds fun. But don't take them all at once like your antibiotics. That would probably be too much fun.

text ✉ brittana

Santana: Hey Britt. I'm driving to Illinois to pick up my parents tomorrow morning.

Santana: How are you doing?

the wait // brittana f2f

As Santana’s hand touched her cheek Brittany closed her eyes. It was hard to believe she was home. It was even harder to believe that Santana was home waiting for her. If she didn’t hurt she’d be certain that this was all a dream. There wasn’t any way she could be this lucky.

At any other time Brittany would protest the removal of her cat, but it strangely didn’t upset her. “Did the Glee club get out okay?” She gently pushed Lord Tubbington out of her way with one dirty shoe. “There was so much going on. Did you-” Brittany stopped herself. She couldn’t ask. Something had gone terribly wrong in Columbus. Maybe it was even wrong here. But she couldn’t bear to see doubt in her best friend’s eyes right now while it was so fresh in her brain. “There were a lot of looters.” She finished lamely.

Brittany felt moderately better inside her own home as she watched Lord Tubbington run up the stairs to her bedroom, but nothing felt quite right until she locked the front door behind her. “I kind of want a bath,” she said finally. “I fell down a lot and I must smell worse than Finn does after a game.” She gently squeezed Santana’s hand. “Could you make sure the backdoor is locked?”

“Yeah, everyone’s home,” she answered with a nod, “I made sure of it. Nothing’s really changed around here... I think Columbus was just some freak accident.” Santana bit her lip. She was familiar with denial, and it was probably too easy for her to slip into it. She was so ready for this whole thing to be over that she’d believe her false sense of security before she believed what she saw on TV... What she saw with her own two eyes. She shook her head lightly to refocus.

“Yeah, B. I think a bath would probably make you feel a lot better,” Santana said with big, hopeful eyes. “Of course. I can wait down here for you...” she said, looking around a little awkwardly, sliding her hands into her back pockets, “Just call me if you need anything, okay?”

text ✉ quinntana

Quinn: Yeah. I'm okay, all things considered.

Quinn: Are you alright? Have you heard from Britt?

Santana: Good. I was worried. How is your family?

Santana: Yes, she's back. She came through the sewers again like last summer.

#qf #t: qf

the wait // brittana f2f

Brittany crawled out of the sewers and paused, on her hands and knees still, to kiss the warm asphalt. Thank God, she thought as she greedily sucked air into her lungs. There had been moments in the dark that she thought she would for sure die down there. She had even imagined something following her a few times, but she quelled her panic. The only way to get through was to keep a hand on the wall and keep calm. She had learned that last summer.

All in all it had served her well. She was only a few miles from home when she decided to brave the streets. Nothing seemed to be different in Lima, but Brittany’s heart thudded all the same. Her skin practically crawled as she rushed home, exhausted legs threatening to quit every time she broke into a sprint. It was all for nothing if Santana wasn’t there. That’s all there was to it. If something had happened to the Glee club and she wasn’t there she would be responsible for it.

As she turned onto her own street Brittany found herself slowing down, as if a part of her couldn’t bear the idea of loss. She could see Lord Tubbington’s large, well loved shape waddling towards her, tail twitching in the pleasure of seeing his owner, but that was all. It wasn’t quite what she wanted, but it made her eyes well up regardless as she scooped him up and buried her dirty, scratched face into his fur. His purrs gave her comfort and she could almost ignore how much heavier he felt, how her shoulder seemed to screech in protest at the unbearable weight. A world where Lord Tubbington could purr was a good one. Once she had a bath and charged her phone she’d be able to see if she could reach Santana and then decide if it was a fair one.

Brittany saw her when she mounted the first porch step. On the bench, behind the rosebush. Just like she had imagined seemingly years ago. She froze as she tried to take in every little detail, telling herself that she couldn’t make up those details so it was surely real. Tears started to fall down her cheeks and Lord Tubbington’s claws dug into her collarbone as he struggled to find a comfortable spot in her arms. “I took the sewers home,” she told Santana finally. “Can we go inside?”

She looked up when she heard that familiar voice, almost convinced she was having a dream or some kind of hallucination. She probably wished and prayed so hard that her mind must have snapped and now she was seeing ghosts.

“Brittany?” she asked, standing slowly, not wanting to wake up from this if it wasn’t real. But it was. It was really her. “Britt,” she said softly again, this time with relief flooding her voice, her own tears welling up. She didn’t run to her or launch herself into her arms, instead she walked towards her, her hand coming to rest on Brittany’s cheek. Her best friend was absolutely covered in grime. The tears she cried leaving the only clean streaks. She knew how she loved Lord Tubbington, but she took him and sat him gently down on the ground anyway. The cat didn’t leave Brittany’s legs, wrapping around her ankles, but Santana needed to hold her. To guide her. To fix her. This. Everything.

“Yeah,” she said with a watery smile and a nod. “You’re a genius, Brittany. You’re so brave.” She took her hand and cradled it between her own. “You’re home now, and your family will be so happy to see you. They went to get lunch,” she assured her, petting her hand, “They’ll be back soon. Come on.” She led her up the porch steps and through the screen door that slammed behind them a little too loudly. “Do you want water?” she asked softly, scooting in inch by inch until she her arms were around her.

the wait // brittana f2f

The bus ride back to Lima was an out of body experience for Santana. She was in the thick of it, pushing everyone she could get to up the steps as Mr. Schue started the old, tired engine. It had to make it back, it just had to. Once they were rolling though, Santana couldn’t do anything but stare out of the window, desperately hoping to catch a glimpse of the girl she loved--Brittany. Fellow glee clubbers gently asked her where Brittany was, and Santana all but bit their heads off. They didn’t get to say her name.

Lima was still Lima, and even though their was a nervous energy in the air, it was still untouched. At least, that’s what everyone was thankfully realizing as the bus made its rounds to drop everyone off. But Santana disagreed. It would never be home again if Brittany didn’t come back to it. Her parent’s were at a medical conference in Illinois, so Santana didn’t even bother having Mr. Schue drive to her house, instead getting dropped off at Brittany’s place to wait.

She stepped across the familiar flat stones that led around Brittany’s house to the swing where they spent so much of their time together. After sleepovers they would bring their bowls of cereal out there to enjoy the morning together. Brittany taught her all about the birds that flitted by, spending time on their swinging tree before flying somewhere new. She braided her hair there, Brittany wished on dandelions there, she kissed her there, and Santana fell in love with her there, and now Brittany had sworn to meet her in this exact spot. Time didn’t exist. The sun would only rise when her girl was back and safe, but Santana had no idea when that would be.

#bp #f2f: bp #the wait

text ✉ quinntana

Santana: Q? Are you alright?

Santana: Are you home safe?

#qf #t: qf #bb quinn

the call // brittana f2f

The feeling of relief was almost palpable when Brittany heard Santana’s voice. For a moment she almost believed that things could be better, but once the actual words clicked in her head she was tense again. Biting her lip, Brittany didn’t answer Santana for a long moment as she fought to keep her voice calm. She had never been a good liar, had never lied to Santana, but she had to try. “Don’t do that! I’m okay. I promise I’m okay. Are you at the hotel? Are you inside? Santana, go inside.”

For the first time Brittany heard a gunshot and she let out a soft gasp. The crowd around her had gone almost scarily still. A lot of them seemed to be doing what she was doing, calling parents, children, lovers. Brittany wondered if she should have called her parents first. “Can you hear me? They barricaded the roads. Nobody can get out right now. I heard someone talk about tanks.”

She gripped the phone until her knuckles were white, but she didn’t really feel it. All she could feel was her heart thudding and the way her blood rushed through her veins. Was this what it felt like to know you were going to die? Brittany had been a Cheerio since she was a flat chested child. She’d be at the bottom of collapsed pyramids, been thrown and not caught, but Brittany was just sixteen. Death had never really been real to her. Now it was.

“San, I need you to listen, okay? Get inside with everybody. When the riot’s over get home. I’ll meet you there. I promise. I’ll be waiting for you on my porch. Do not come for me. I wont be able to find you if you do.”

“Brittany?” Santana said nervously, the silence on the other end of the line terrifying. Each millisecond was torturous, and the fact that she wasn’t with her was making everything worse. “Britt-” she started again, only to be cut off by her best friend finally speaking. She shook her head even though she knew Brittany couldn’t see her. “No,” she insisted, “Please, just tell me where you are. I’ll find you. You know I’ll find you.”

She heard the gunshot too and it made her jump, the sounds of screams nearly deafening. Her voice cracked when she called Brittany’s name again and again, like she was calling to her from a dream, waiting for the other girl to hear her through the clouds. There was more than telephone interference between them. A radio silence that shook Santana to the bone every time Brittany fell quiet. She was the only thing, the only thing Santana cared about. But was it possible to transmit more than muffled words through a shotty connection? Words floating over a background of chaos? There was so much more that Santana needed to say. She prayed that she wasn’t too late. That she would still have a chance.

“I can hear you,” she replied, steeling herself even though hot tears slid down her cheeks. She was scared. Things only seemed to go from bad to worse. How could she not look for her? How could she leave her there alone? She’d do anything for Brittany. She’d even help her cross the street, knowing that her hands could guide her the best, even if sometimes Santana forced them both through uncharted paths that hurt her. Reality sunk in, though. And Santana knew that they didn’t have any other option.

“You have to promise me that you’ll be there, okay? Promise me, Britt.” Her words were shaky and strained, trying to fight back the blind panic that was rising in her chest. “I love you. I love you forever, okay? Me and you, Britt. Okay? Do you hear me? Promise be you’ll be there, Brittany.”

#bp #f2f: bp #the call

the call // brittana f2f

The crowd was so deep Brittany wasn’t sure which way was out anymore. All she knew were pushing bodies, screams, the metallic smells of fear and sweat. She’d never experienced anything like this before. They have to open up the roads, she thought as she had to shove one of the men beside her to have just be able to breathe. Someone’s going to get crushed. Brittany wasn’t sure they hadn’t been already.

A sudden realization made her eyes grow wide and she frantically grabbed for her phone. The Glee club would be getting out soon, if they weren’t already. They would walk into this. Santana. Brittany found her best friend’s number and dialed. They had to stay out of this. She just hoped that the angry yelling she heard close by wouldn’t mean what she was suspecting.

“Please San, please answer,” she whispered to herself as she heard the phone ring over and over again. “Please.”

finn-huds0n-deactivated20160202

It all happened so fast that Santana’s head was spinning. One moment she was singing and dancing around in some nerd competition, and the next she found herself in complete chaos. She stuck close to Sam on the steps in front of the venue they just performed at, watching a sea of people rush by. There was only one thing on her mind though, and that was Brittany. Where was she? Santana couldn’t even remember the last time she saw her. Was it on stage?

It didn’t take long for Santana to freak out, calling Brittany’s name loudly, asking their friends if they’ve seen her, but no one had. She couldn’t handle this, and she was about to try to bully her way through the masses on some crazy mission to find Brittany. She needed to know she was safe. She needed her, period.

When she felt her phone buzzing, she patted her pockets frantically until she fished it out of one of her pockets. Seeing Brittany’s face light up her screen, she quickly swiped and answered.

“Brittany? Brittany where are you?” she asked frantically. “Tell me where you are. I’ll come find you.”

#bp #f2f: bp #the call

If anyone’s gonna snore it’ll probably be me, my bad. My mom tells me I snore like a bear sometimes.

You’ll be fine, Santana. It’s just a weekend. We need everyone to be on their A game if we want to win.

Then I got a roll of duct tape with your name on it, Finnocnce.

Too bad your A game doesn’t exist. Just try not to mess up the choreo during Valerie.

#fh #d: fh

acefamspicymafia

If those reports are true, staying at a fuckin cheap motel or fancy one isn’t gonna make a difference San. Best thing to do is to keep Rachel alive so we can freakin win and everyone can shut the hell up. But I still think that crap fake.