When I think about the fact that these two kids from season one
these two background cheerleaders who were always together
these two best friends who may have had something more going on
these two young, unassuming KIDS
grow up into strong women…
ok when brittany does this thing that she looks at santana’s lips.. i can’t feel my body i am just lost in this moment …
Lets be real. This is the only Glee one that really matters.
SO KEEP BREATHING ‘CAUSE I’M NOT LEAVING YOU ANYMORE.. BELIEVE IT.. HOLD ONTO ME AND NEVER LET ME GO.
I JUST.. THIS SONG.. AND THIS BABIES.. :) nayarivera
this is just purrrrrrrrrrrrfect xoxo t-y so much.
Brittana fans read my latest huffpostent blog on the fandom and season six!
"but did she have to do it in front of the whole glee club?"
"remember when she called glee club the best part of her day? you guys are her family too and i think it was so brave of her."
"It just seems really crass of her, Brittany. She knows I’m still struggling with my break-up with Blaine, and this is what she does, she kicks people when they’re down, remember-“
"No, I’m going to stop you right there Kurt Hummel, that’s actually not who she is at all. That’s what you’ve all made her out to be. Not who she really is, and you know it. Think about it, really, just for a minute. Who was the first one who tried to get you back in this school when Dave was bullying you?”
"Her, but-" Brittany shakes her head and holds up a hand.
"Who went after Sebastian when he almost blinded Blaine Warbler?"
"Who was the one who tried to protect Rachel when she was with that my sized Ken Doll?"
"Her." Kurt slumps his shoulders dejectedly.
"Yeah. Exactly. She’s the best kind of person, Kurt. She cares so much about you. Do you know that she cried, because of the way you acted? Not only because you turned one of the most important moments of our life into something negative, but because she feels bad that you were hurt. It wasn’t supposed to be about you. It was supposed to be about me, and her, our love.” The sparkling tears in Brittany’s eyes are evident, and she rubs her thumb over the inside of the band on her left ring finger.
Kurt doesn’t speak for a few long moments.
"Look, I know things have been hard for you with Blaine and Karofsky, but sometimes things happen in relationships. Things you don’t expect and things that at the time seem like the worst possible outcome. But you can’t give up and you can’t stand still." Her eyes flick down at the ring again and back up. "Kurt.”
He looks up at her finally, tears in his eyes.
"Don’t give up. I never did."
"It’s hard. Almost impossible hard." His voice is hardly above a whisper. "Was it this hard for you too? Where you felt like you couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t even think straight anymore?"
"I’m not sure if you were ever thinking straight.” Brittany jokes a little, and she sees the slightest hint of a smile on his face. “But yeah, it was. The breakup hurt, but when I got a text from her that told me she’d started seeing Dani, it was like someone hit me in the chest with a baseball bat. I cried for like four days.”
"Yeah, really. It didn’t matter that I’d dated someone first. She’s my person, you know? My one true love, and even though I had faith that we’d find our way to each other again, it didn’t mean that I wanted to think about her with someone else. And not even the sexy stuff, just holding her hand, kissing her forehead, making her breakfast, sending her dumb texts. That hurt most. I know people don’t always give me credit, but I’m really good at understanding, and I’ve been there, so…"
"But Karofsky? Really? He terrorized me in high school, how could he…”
"We both know people change," she interrupts, glancing at the ring again and thinking back to Santana sophomore year. How she snapped at Rachel after Landslide. How she looked that day in front of the lockers. He’s just a stupid boy. “Karofsky was scared too back then, remember? Just have faith, I have a feeling it’s going to work out and Santana says I’ve got ESPN about these sort of things. He’ll catch up, you know?”
Kurt nods and sniffles loudly, swiping at his nose. ”I’m sorry I ruined it earlier. You’re right, today was about you two and I should have seen that.” He reaches out to squeeze her hand with a watery smile.
"You didn’t ruin it, I promise. Nothing could have possibly ruined it. Ever." She can’t help the grin that splits from ear-to-ear. Her fiance.
"I’m really happy for you, Brittany. For both of you."
"Thanks, Kurt. And I think you owe my fiance an apology."
"I know. I am proud of her, you know. I lived with her for months, and never once saw her as honest and open as she was during that speech. You bring out the best in her."
"No." Brittany shakes her head, a soft smile on her lips as she thinks of unicorns, and the MIT encouragement, and the nights on their tour where she’d come into bed bone tired, and Santana would remind her of what an amazing dancer she was, of all the great she’d accomplish. "We bring out the best in each other."
"Yeah, I guess that’s true. So where is she now? And do you think you could come with me? She won’t murder me in front of you."
"She’s at the Lima Bean. I was giving her some time to herself, to get her head together and stuff. We’re talking about maybe going to see her abuela before we go back home.” Brittany’s voice is quiet, serious, and Kurt realizes that she’s trusting him enough to share something so personal, so important.
As soon as they step foot into the Lima Bean, Brittany finds Santana on instinct. She’s alone at a table by the far window, nursing a mug of steaming coffee looking like she’s not quite all there.
"Hey, space cadet," Brittany greets, kissing her on the cheek.
"Hey, baby." Her expression softens immediately at the sight of Brittany but narrows her eyes when she notices Kurt. "And if it isn’t Mr. Ungrateful himself. Didn’t you already do enough damage today, Hummel? Swing away."
"I owe you an apology, Santana." That gets her attention. "I was wrong to behave the way I did in that choir room. I was hurt and lashed out and should have realized that this was your moment. Yours and Brittany’s and I tried to take that from you. I’m hurting, but that’s no excuse. I just wanted you to know that I’m truly sorry." Santana’s scowl turns progressively to a soft smile. "And also, I’m really proud of you, Santana."
With that, her eyes get misty and Brittany reaches to squeeze her hand from across the table. Because I voted for you. I believe in you, Santana.
"I love you guys," Kurt whispers, laying his hand over both of theirs.
"We love you too, Lady Hummel," Santana begrudges, rolling her eyes and leaning over to press a kiss to Brittany’s lips.
"On that note, I’m going to go." Kurt stands up, swallowing the lump in his throat.
"You can stay, if you want." Santana offers, though she’s still sort of staring into her coffee cup, eyes glazed over.
"No, it’s alright, I’ve got some thinking to do, I think. Thanks again, Britt. And congratulations. Give me a little time, and I’m happy to offer my wedding expertise."
"Will go, Captain Unicorn. Go find some of that magic." Brittany winks, and with a tip of his imaginary hat, Kurt is off, and Britt refocuses her energy on her fiancee. "Hey."
"Hi." Santana’s voice cracks a little, and Brittany feels a strong urge to cradle her in her arms and kiss her all over. "I’m sorry, I’m sorry. This is such a happy day, and I kind of wish I didn’t bring it up until tomorrow, because now I’m getting weepy. And you said yes, you said yes, Britt. I’m so, so happy and I don’t want to cry, and I don’t want to ruin our big day."
"Hey, hey, sweetheart." Brittany soothes, kissing Santana’s lips again, and running her fingers through dark locks. "It’s okay. We have all the days of our life together to be happy, and we’re going back to New York the day after tomorrow. I want all of your dreams to come true, San, and I know this is one of them. It’s not ruining our day at all."
"I just want her to see," Santana breathes, swallowing down her tears. "See how over-the-moon happy I am to one day soon call you my wife. I want her to be proud of me, too."
"I want that more than anything," Brittany urges, pressing their foreheads together. "You ready to go? Or do we need to stop for motivational milkshakes on the way?"
"Ready as I’ll ever be." And with that, Santana stands, offering up a hand and pulling Brittany to her feet. Brittany laces their fingers together as they make their way out to the car.
Out of the corner of her eye, Brittany watches the way Santana fidgets in the passenger seat, and she wishes there was something she could do to help calm her down. Briefly, she considers pulling over, but Brittany knows the best thing to do is just pull the bandaid off, and instead settles for bringing Santana’s wrist to her lips, and kissing there to calm her hammering pulse.
"I love you no matter what." Santana whispers, staring out the window at the big imposing house.
"Of course you do, silly." Brittany tries to keep it light, waggling her left hand. "And I’m here for you no matter what."
"It’s just, if she says something, or she-"
"Hey, honey, I can handle her. It’s you I’m worried about."
"She rejected me once. It can’t be worse the second time, right?"
"Let’s not even think like that. Let’s just think that she’s going to come around, and then afterwards, I’m going to buy my fiancee all the breadsticks she can eat, and then give her sweet lady kisses until she can pass out."
"Well that’s a reward." Santana laughs a little, and Brittany feels like she’s accomplished her goal. "Okay, let’s do it."
Fingers laced together (and maybe Brittany’s hand half broken with how tight Santana is squeezing, but she doesn’t mind) they make their way to the door, and sucking in a deep breath, Santana rings the bell.
"Yes. How can I help you?" Alma Lopez opens, trying to hide the elation in her eyes at seeing her granddaughter again, even if she IS holding hands with Brittany. She looks older, Santana thinks, it’s been three years since she’s seen her, after all, and smaller, and maybe, maybe a little bit softer-though that could be wishful thinking.
“Santana, what are you doing here?” She takes in Santana from the top of her head to the tips of her toes, a sad smile forming before turning to Brittany and nodding just slightly.
“Hi, Abuela,” Brittany greets softly.
“Can we come in?” Santana sounds so small she feels like a kid again, running to Abuela about a skinned knee, not her still broken heart. Three years can feel like a lifetime.
“I’m not sure if-” Abuela hesitates, looking distantly past them out to the street.
“Please.” When Santana’s voice cracks, something in in the air seems to change. I don’t want to fight anymore. I’m just too tired.
“Okay.” Abuela sighs but motions them into the house and Brittany squeezes her hand quickly.
Upon crossing the threshold, Santana actually loses her breath. Abuela’s house looks entirely the same as it has for nineteen years and the tears come quickly, dripping one after the other silently down her cheeks. The mantle is still adorned with year after year of Santana’s grade school pictures, including the last photograph Santana ever took with Abuelo before he passed. Santana blinks at the picture of her in that red cap and gown, because Abuela refused to come to her high school graduation.
When she turns back to her grandmother, she bites her lip to keep from sobbing. It’s one thing to be a thousand miles away in New York and an entirely different one to be here in this house and face-to-face with the one person besides Brittany she’s always just wanted to love her. The grandfather clock ticks loudly from the corner of the room.
“Can I hug you?” It comes out strangled and desperate, but Santana doesn’t care.
She starts crying in earnest when Abuela opens up her arms.
I have to just be me.
"I’ve missed you, nieta.” The words are spoken so low, with so much caution, that it seems as if they hardly exist at all.
“Te extraño también.”
Brittany holds her breath, watching the exchange, watching the way Santana trembles in the arms she fears might let her go as quickly as they embraced her, and she finds herself releasing a silent plea to the universe. Please. Please, don’t make her fight another war. Please. Let her finally see that she’s only lost the person she knew when she let her go. She wrings her hands behind her back, knowing the old woman has a hawk eye, knowing that if that diamond on her left hand is visible, Santana won’t be able to tell her grandmother herself.
"I have prayed." Alma speaks, a little louder this time, and Santana stiffens in her arms, unsure of whether she should pull away, or keep clinging, to hold on to every last second. "At first I prayed for strength. Strength to stay home on Christmas day, strength keep myself from seeing my granddaughter graduate high school, strength to keep from picking up the phone. But then slowly, I began to pray for guidance, to know whether I’d done what God would want of me."
"Please. I know I have no right to ask anything of you anymore, Santanita, but if you would give me a moment to speak, it would be appreciated."
"Okay." Santana’s voice is still so small that it makes Brittany’s heart twist in her chest, and her stomach feel a little sick, wishing she could take away all that hesitation and fear.
"I have decided that it would be hypocritical of me to shun love, in favor of hate, or even indifference. This is all very new to me, this…way you feel about girls, but if you have me back, I promise you I will try."
Santana’s whole body shakes as Alma clutches her and Brittany looks to the sky. Thank you. She has the sudden urge to run screaming down the quiet suburban street as fast as she possibly can, shouting to the heavens how proud and in love with Santana Lopez she is. How in love she has always been.
“Te amo, Abuelita,” Santana whispers, her throat nearly raw.
“I love you, too, Santanita. Siempre.” And suddenly Alma is looking at Brittany over Santana’s shoulder. Thank you, she mouths, and although Brittany isn’t sure what for, she feels like she could sprout wings right there and fly. Finally, finally, Santana is getting every happiness she never thought she deserved.
When Santana finally pulls away, she swipes at her eyes before turning back towards Brittany with her happiest light-up-the-room smile and reaches for her hand, tugging her closer. “C’mere.” And Brittany follows, as she always has.
“Can we sit?” Santana asks softly, motioning towards the kitchen table. The same kitchen table where she poured out her heart those years ago and where the old Santana may still lay, broken and bleeding.
“We have something to tell you,” Santana starts, squeezing their laced hands even tighter together and looking at Brittany once more to be sure this is the right thing. Brittany responds by kissing her knuckles and smiling softly.
With one last deep breath, Santana speaks. ”I asked Brittany to marry me today, Abuela. And she said yes.”
"You’re getting married?" Alma’s eyes mist over, and both Brittany and Santana hold their breaths, hoping this isn’t the kind of thing that will break the fragile foundations of a rekindled relationship. Slowly, she brings the sleeve of her shirt to her eyes to wipe the tears that gather in the corners, and a smile breaks across her face. "My granddaughter is getting married?"
"She is." Brittany beams proudly at Santana, never breaking the tight hold she has on her hand, and Alma notes the diamond twinkling.
"May I?" She holds out her hand, and so tentatively, Santana loosens her grip, and sets her hand on Brittany’s thigh, still needing to ground herself. Brittany extends her left hand to Santana’s grandmother, and she takes it, squeezing, before admiring the ring.
"I’m impressed, Santanita." Alma smiles, and Santana feels as if she might melt into the floor, overwhelmed by the affection she’d craved so long from the woman. "Forgive me, I don’t know how these things work, with two women, but will you wear a ring also, mi corazon?”
"She will." Brittany cuts Santana off, knowing she’ll begin stammering, because of course she’ll want to wear a ring, and it’s Brittany’s job to get her one. “It’s all so new, but I plan on getting her the best one I can find. I want Santana to have the best of everything.”
"It’s beautiful to see the way you love her." Alma finds herself truly surprised, actually feeling the love that radiates from Brittany’s eyes, that colors even the few words she’s spoken since their arrival. “If you’ll allow me, Brittany, there’s something I’d like to give to you.”
Abuela disappears briefly from the room, giving Brittany the chance to take Santana’s face in both of her hands and kiss her. “I am so proud of you, honey,” Brittany mumbles, kissing her lips and then looking down to the diamond on her left ring finger. ”I can’t even stand it.”
“I love you.” It sounds like the most resolute promise.
“And I love you. So so much.” Another misty-eyed kiss.
When Alma returns, she pulls out the chair adjacent to Brittany and sits, taking both of her hands and pressing something small and round into her palm. “This was Santana’s Abuelo’s wedding ring,” she starts, closing Brittany’s fingers around the thick gold band and kissing the back of her closed fist. “Obviously it won’t fit either of you, but maybe you could have it melted down and made into your own wedding bands.” Santana cries silently alongside watching two of her favorite people talk about her future wedding rings while Brittany tries to stop her hands from shaking.
“Oh Abuela,” she starts, whispering. “I don’t know-”
“Please, Brittany. I want you to have it. Both of you,” she promises, reaching across to Santana and holding fast to them both. “May it bring you both all the love, strength and happiness it brought to my dear husband and I for over fifty years. Now dios mio, let me make you something to eat, you’re both too skinny!”
Brittany laughs and tucks the ring safely into her pocket as her and Santana stand to embrace Alma together, all the while wondering if she’s ever felt happier than here with Santana in her grandmother’s kitchen.
Still a little overcome, Santana excuses herself to the bathroom, silently checking that Brittany is okay to be left alone before she does so.
"Santana’s still too skinny." Alma looks to Brittany as she drops empanadas into hot oil. "When you marry her, you need to make sure she eats enough. She’s stubborn, that girl."
"I will." Brittany promises, feeling like it’s a very important vow she’s making.
"But you know this, of course you know this, I’m sorry, it’s not my place. Not anymore."
"Abuela." Brittany stands from her seat, and makes her way over to the stove, watching the oil snap and bubble. "I’d love to hear what you’d like to tell me about Santana. I’d love to hear everything you have to tell me about her."
"I’m afraid you know more about her than I do now."
"How about this? I love to hear about Santana before I knew her, and you’d like to hear about the past few years. Maybe we can help each other out."
"Oh, Brittany." Alma doesn’t bother to stop the tears that fall down her cheeks. "You are a good, good girl, and so kind to me, who’s done so wrong by the girl you love. Thank you, thank you cariña. It’s hard for me to believe, seeing the way you care for each other, how I ever saw sin in this."
“She’s incredible,” Brittany breathes. “She’s brilliant and kind and fierce and caring and just has the best heart. She’s exactly who you raised her to be, Abuela.” Brittany blinks away tears and laughs quietly to herself at how perfect today has been. Engaged to her best friend. The one she’s wanted and fought for from the beginning. Hers forever. “That’s the Santana you’ve missed the past few years. Not the scared one or the bitter one or the callus one, but the real one.”
“I am an old woman, Brittany,” Alma relents. “I only hope I’m not too late to be part of her life again. I have missed so much already.”
“We’ll just have to make up for lost time, then.”
“Make up for what?” Santana asks, entering the kitchen and giving her abuela a kiss on the cheek before stealing two empanadas. She greets Brittany with a scrunchy-face smile and a peck on the lips, offering the snack.
“Brittany, I read in the newspaper that you are one of the smartest of your generation. A perfect SAT score? MIT? That’s quite an accomplishment.” Brittany nods hesitantly, sensing the usual upcoming awkward conversation concerning her whole dropping-out-of-MIT thing, but Abuela surprises them both. “Are you sure my granddaughter deserves you?” Alma jokes, squeezing one of Santana’s apple cheeks as they flush pink.
“I don’t deserve her, I can promise you that, Abuela,” Santana says, grabbing for Brittany’s hand and squeezing it.
Brittana cute moments