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Brittany doesn’t remember the last time she hugged Santana.
She genuinely doesn’t.
It scares her that she would forget about her. She loves Santana. She loves Santana- she really does- of course she always would, even though Sam is sweet and kind and caring.
Santana made her smile when nobody else could. Never called her stupid or dumb.
Her heart was pounding, breaths coming in short pants as she clutched at the walls, feeling the moisture on her palms spread to them. Her limbs were shaking, perched on the toilet bowl, making the toilet cover tremble and make noise with the vibration. She can’t get it to stop.
She wants to close her eyes and pretend that this was all a nightmare.
But this was real. This was so real.
When had she last talked to Santana?
She clung onto the thought of Santana, even though she shouldn’t- she was about to die. Never in a million years did Brittany think this would be happening, yet all she could think of was Santana, Santana, Santana.
Brittany can’t even say goodbye to Santana. Her phone was in the choir room too- god she hoped everyone else was okay.
She hates goodbyes. Brittany always assumes it’s a “see you later”.
She was mistaken. She was sorely mistaken. Brittany could feel the sweat dripping down her forehead as the trembling intensified.
Brittany doesn’t want to say goodbye. She can’t, who was going to feed Lord Tubbington and remind Santana that she’s not a bad person or sing epic sunshine twin duets with Blaine or be the awesome bicorn of the Glee Club-
She wants. She wants there to be more.
Brittany hates that she can’t remember the last time she saw Santana’s smile, or the feel of her lips on hers, or her beautiful voice, or her hugs, or even the last ‘I love you’. She wants Santana, she wants her now. God, just one last ‘I love you’. A look into her eyes, telling her it would be okay. A goodbye at least. Brittany hates it but at least she could see Santana again.
Her chest aches and twinges at the thought of Santana, like a spear being driven through her heart.
Brittany just wants more time with her. More kisses, more holding hands, more promises, more hugs. The tears well up in her eyes, blurring her surroundings as she held in a sob.
No. This can’t be the end. She doesn’t want it to be.
(Deep down she knows she’s dying today.)
The gunshots get louder outside, and even though they’re muffled, Brittany knows that the shooter is on their way.
“Are you guys scared?” A voice whispers from one of the other stalls. A freshman Cheerio, just a newcomer to the school. Brittany knows her. She knows everybody in this school. It was a shame they didn’t remember her.
Her name was Raven and she wasn’t supposed to die here either. She was too young. Brittany was easily three years older than her, and she wasn’t supposed to die either. She herself was supposed to grow old with Santana. Get married. Have a life.
Have a life. Not dead. With her and her other friends, be the aunt for Rachel and Finn’s kids.
“I am,” a boy next door, part of the AV club, mumbled. His name was Red. He was graduating this year. With Brittany. All everyone wanted was to get good grades and graduate. Brittany had heard from the gossip mill that Red was on track with 3 AP classes, trying to get into a good college to get a good job so that he could help his family. They were in poverty. His mom and dad and sisters were going to lose him.
“We’re gonna get out of here,” Brittany whispered. “We’re gonna get out.”
“I don’t wanna die,” Raven sobbed, and her voice broke. “I had a fight with my mom this morning. I didn’t get to tell her I was sorry and that I loved her.”
“My sister is sick,” Red started, “pneumonia. I work two part time jobs. She’s going to die because we can’t pay the hospital bills.”
Brittany exhaled a sob. “We’re going to get out.”
“Britt,” Raven cried. “We won’t.”
“If I don’t make it out of here…” Red mumbled, “I hope somebody would help my family and tell them that I love them very much.”
“I just want my mom to know I love her. My dad left us, and I’m an only child. I don’t want her to be alone,” Raven added on.
Another gunshot rang out, the sound picking up and echoing down the hallway. The shooter was closer.
Brittany clenched her fists at the wall. “I just want Santana. I just want my family. ”
Her breaths were coming fast and heavy as she tried to sniff. She needed Santana. She needed to say goodbye, now. She would trade everything for one last moment with Santana.
God, and the Glee Club. She was going to lose them too. She wasn’t going to ever hear Rachel’s annoying solos, or Kurt cooing over Blaine, Quinn and Santana bickering, Mike talking about his dance moves. She wasn’t going to see any of them again. They were her family, have been for the past four years.
“If I don’t make it out of here… tell the Glee Club I love them. And I hope that someone tells Santana I love her, more than everything else in the whole world.”
She needs to say goodbye.
More than anything, to Santana. To her family. To the people who loved her more than anything, even going so far as to perform Britney for her to try and help her.
The footsteps were louder now. Brittany looked down, trying to control her breathing. It felt like there wasn’t enough air in the bathroom and her mind was swimming in memories of her and the club, the happiness she had had.
“I need to say goodbye,” Brittany breathed, shaking her head.
“I have a phone,” Red said. “Do… do you want it?”
“Y-”
The door was kicked open with an abrupt slam, forcing Brittany to shut up. The footsteps echoed, slow and deliberate.
She closed her eyes.
The stall door to the left of her, it was kicked open with a loud bang, and she flinched.
“Oh please, please, no… PLEASE-” Red was cut off with an abrupt scream and gunshot. The sound was chilling. There was the thump of something heavy hitting the floor beside her, and Brittany bit down on her hand in order to keep from crying out.
Slow footsteps towards her stall and they pause. Raven was sniffling. Raven was sniffling and she couldn’t stop herself. This time, the door wasn’t kicked in. Instead it swung open ominously, creaking.
“OH GOD!” Raven let out a high pitched scream, and another gunshot echoed and Brittany flinched, biting down harder. There was another gunshot, again, and Brittany saw the red of the Cheerios uniform peeking out from under the stall as the following thud echoed. Something red began leaking into her stall, from the uniform, growing steadily bigger and bigger.
I love you Santana. I love you guys so much. I love you. I love you. Please. Santana. I love you.
“HEY!”
The door was half-open, gun rising to aim and fire at Brittany, but the shooter paused, half distracted by the new noise. She could vaguely recognize the voice, but that person’s identity didn’t matter as much as the screaming in her head and the mounting panic and horror. She swallowed the lump in her throat, ignoring the way her breath went funny.
It will not end here. (It’s a lie, she knows that.)
The shooter’s gun turned away from her, and she took it as a chance to save herself. If not for herself, then at least for Raven and Red. She ripped the door open and tackled the shooter, sending the gun out of his hands and then stumbling out of the bathroom, almost crashing into the person who had provided her the opportunity to escape.
“They got Glee Club,” the person was saying, and Brittany clung onto her like a lifeline. “I was looking for you too.”
Brittany’s mind was racing with thoughts and panic, all in a haze as she clutched at her leather jacket. “They got Glee Club?”
“I intervened before they shot everybody.” The person pushed her away. “Go. Run. Run!”
Brittany wanted to scream. But what about you?
“Parker!” Her shout of her savior’s name was cut short by Parker aggressively turning around. That was when Brittany noticed the red stain spreading on her T-shirt, soaking the leather jacket she wore.
No. No, no, no no. Brittany had been friends with Parker from the start. Two weirdos existing on the same wavelength. She cannot imagine it happening. Parker was part of the Glee Club, her family. She’s going to lose a part of her family.
“Just go to Santana,” Parker said desperately. “Go out, Britt. Go out. Please.” She was slightly hunched over, hand pressed to her abdomen. Pleading. “Goodbye, Britt.”
But why? But why, why, why? Brittany hates goodbyes, and she needed to say goodbyes, not other people. Other people shouldn’t have to say goodbye.
“You’re going to die!” Brittany protested.
“I’ve already died!” Parker roared back. “Just run, dammit! Run!”
The shooter shot through the door, hitting Parker in the shoulder, sending her stumbling back. Brittany wasn’t sure if she could forget the way blood bloomed upon bullet impact.
Brittany had to run, mind racing and heart breaking as she watched someone who had suffered a lot of pain, dealt a lot of pain and ended up dying alone in the cold hallway of McKinley High let out one loose war cry, tackling the shooter head on. Brittany turned the corner, and the last she saw of her fellow Glee Club member was her being shoved to the floor and being shot in the head.
This gunshot rang louder than it should in her ears.
It all happened in slow motion. To Brittany from afar, it sounded like a melon being splattered onto the ground. An echoing thump of nothing. Lifeless eyes staring at the ceiling, blood trickling down her face. Her fingers twitched once and then they stayed still. That same crimson red puddle was growing out from underneath her too. She flashed back to Raven’s body and blood back in the bathroom and she screwed her eyes shut for a moment, not allowing herself to take in the scene anymore.
Brittany didn’t get to say goodbye.
She felt sick.
She turned the corner and kept running, tears blurring the way she was going. She couldn’t tell right from left, up from down, she just had to keep running. Parker told her so. Parker said goodbye so that she could go to Santana. She could do that. She could do that. Run. Run. Run. Find her family. Find someone. Anyone.
Maybe somewhere in her head there was a tiny bit of her unclenching, that maybe she could get out of this alive, that maybe she should have hope, as long as she keeps running away, away, away. Maybe that there is a happy ending, and that Red and Raven could live on in her- get her happily ever after with-
Her hands were sweaty and she couldn’t see where the exit was and she just had to keep running. Run to Santana. Run.
She turned the corner and faced the muzzle of a gun.
(She knew it.)
…
“Hey Britt,” Santana teased, plopping down on the chair beside her. “Breadstix date?”
“Yeah, sure. I want to talk to you about my super awesome unicorn play I’m writing,” Brittany grinned.
“What’s it about?”
Brittany took a piece of paper out of her bag and promptly thrust it into Santana’s face, bouncing with glee. “Look!”
It took a moment for Santana to register her girlfriend’s handwriting, but when she did, a small proud smile began to stretch across her face.
“This is awesome, Britt. ‘The Legend of the Legendary Unicorn’. Who’s the unicorn?” Santana skimmed through the script.
“You are!” Brittany exclaimed, and Santana abruptly looked up to her.
“Really?”
“Yeah! Because in the end the bicorn and the unicorn get together and they all live happily ever after!” Brittany clapped, before noticing Santana’s expression. “Is it… not good?”
“It’s… our story, Britt,” Santana said softly, reading through the script again. “Our love story.”
“Do you… not like it? I can always change the script if you want-” She was cut off by Santana giving her a tight hug.
“I love it.” Santana pressed a kiss to Brittany’s temple. “I love you, Britt.”
“I love you too, San.”
Santana pulled away, chuckling as she wiped at her eyes. “So uh, we live happily ever after in this.”
“Yes.”
“Is that what you want with me?” Santana asked, now recognizing what the play really was about. “Happily ever after?”
“More than anything.”
…
“Sex is not dating.”
“If it were, Santana and I would be dating.”
…
“So… are you and Santana… you know… together?”
“I… I’m not sure.”
“So you’re lesbian.”
“No…”
“That’s cool. You’re like me. You like both. That’s awesome. But I think you should clarify your relationship with Santana, Britt. Seems to be an awful lot of muddy water in there.”
…
“... it’s better with feelings.”
“Are you kidding? It’s better when it doesn’t involve feelings.”
“I dunno. I guess I dunno how to feel about… us.”
…
“Can I handle the seasons of my life~?”
“Well I’ve been afraid of changing, cause I’ve built my life around you…”
“So take this love and take it down.”
“And if you see my reflection in the snow-covered hills well maybe… a landslide would bring me down.”
…
“Is that really how you feel?”
“... uh, yeah.”
...
“Look, Britt. Me, Parker and Rachel were talking. Everyone loves you and Artie. But you don’t work out.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Remember what I asked, Britt?” Parker cut in this time. “Are you and Santana datin-”
“I don’t know.”
“You can’t cheat on Artie. It’s not right.”
“Different plumbing, remember?”
“Britt please.”
…
“I wanna be with you. But I’m afraid of the talks… and the looks… I’m so afraid of what everyone will say behind my back. Still, I have to accept… that I love you.”
…
“Look, can you stop staring at me, I can’t remember my locker combo.”
…
“I made a different one for you.”
“I’m Hispanic. Wait… is that supposed to say lesbian?”
“Yeah, isn’t that what it says? When you told me all that stuff the other week, it meant so much to me to see you be honest. Especially since I know how bad it hurts. I’m just so proud of you.”
“Well, don’t get used to it. And certainly don’t think about telling anyone.”
“Why not? You’re the most awesomest girl in the school. Why would you hide any of this?”
“I’m dating Karofsky now.”
“That’s gross.”
“You don’t get a say in who I date anymore.”
“Why not? Because I’m dating somebody? Because you’re Lebanese and I think I’m bicurious?”
“No! Because I said I love you. You didn’t say you love me back.”
“I do love you. Clearly you don’t love you as much as I do or you’d put the shirt on and you’d dance with me.”
…
“No! Everybody thinks she’s a bad person but she’s not!”
“God, Brittany, why are you so stupid?!”
“You were the only person in this school who never called me that!”
…
“And I love you, I love you, I love you… like never before…”
…
Brittany watched as JBI asked Santana if her and Karofsky were in love. If they were soulmates.
She could feel her heart shatter into a million pieces. She could feel those pieces crumble just a little more when Santana glanced at her.
“Yes.”
Now she knows what it feels like when people die inside.
“I’d say that was accurate.”
Brittany just wants Santana to choose her. Over everybody.
The moment Santana stops looking at Brittany, whatever bits that were left of her heart dropped to the floor.
…
“Acceptance. I know that all the kids in the Glee club… they fight, they steal each other’s boyfriends and girlfriends and they threaten to quit every other week but… stuff like that happens in families.”
“Yeah, well this is a club. It is not a family.”
“Well… family is a place where everyone loves you no matter what. And they accept you for who you are. I know I’m gonna be a bridesmaid at Mike and Tina’s wedding. And I’m going to be anxiously waiting just like everybody else to see if their babies are Asian too. When they find an operation to make Artie’s legs work again, I’m going to be there for his first steps. I love them, I love everyone in Glee Club and I get to spend another year with everyone I love, so, I ‘m good.”
“What about you and I?”
“I love you, Santana. I love you more than I ever loved anyone else in this world. All I know about you and I is that, because of that, anything is possible.”
“You’re my best friend.”
“Me too.”
…
“There’s no one like you. You’re a genius Brittany. You are the unicorn.”
…
“Are we dating?”
“Wait, isn’t this a date?”
…
“Hey, hey, shhh…” Brittany gathered Santana in her arms as she sobbed into her Cheerios jacket. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”
“She didn’t want me, Britt…” Santana cried, voice hoarse from screaming. “She wanted me out. She doesn’t love me anymore.”
“It’s okay…”
“No, it’s not okay!” Santana shouted, sitting upright. “She didn’t love me for who I was!”
“But I do,” Brittany countered softly. “We all do.”
…
It’s in the way Brittany looks at Santana and the way that she looks back at her.
…
“Love is love,” Joe had winked at them as Santana kissed Brittany’s hand.
Love is love, Brittany agreed. Love is indeed love.
Finn makes goofy faces in the background, Rachel pushes at him and laughs. Somewhere in the corner Parker gives two goofy thumbs up.
They all want them to be happy.
And they are.
…
“You’re not graduating?”
…
“I wish I was there.”
…
Santana’s heartbroken expression when she sings “Mine”. Brittany can’t hear what she’s saying over the roar of emotions in her head.
Santana was leaving her.
“I will always love you.”
…
“You’re moping,” Sam accuses when he and Parker stop Brittany from leaving her locker.
“I thought that was a tool used to clean the floor,” she answered back, trying to step away from them.
“You still love Santana.”
“She’s moving on with her life, I should do the same too.”
“This isn’t it, Britt.”
“Please, leave me alone.” Brittany tried to side step past them, but Parker blocked the way.
“No way Britt. You’re not yourself anymore. Please. You still love her, just try to talk to her!”
And Brittany stops short, looks Parker in the eyes, and says, “That’s rich, coming from someone who let Jake take Marley when they’re so clearly in love with her too.”
She shuts her mouth the minute she says that, watching Parker’s eyes flash hurt and anger. Sam intervenes, pulling the other girl back.
“Britt. This isn’t healthy.”
“Just leave me alone,” Brittany pushes past Sam.
…
Brittany wonders if Santana coming to Grease was a joke.
But it wasn’t.
They share a kiss before Santana goes on stage.
…
“Trouty mouth says you’ve been moping.”
“I haven’t been moping.”
“Ser Detective says otherwise. Literally everyone in Glee Club says otherwise.”
“Why are you here, Santana?”
“... don’t you want me here?”
…
The next time she sees Santana, it’s when she performs “Nutbush City Limits”.
“I didn’t know you were coming back.”
Santana pauses for a long moment, then smiles. It’s not real. “It’s great to see you again, Britt.”
But they hug. And Brittany feels like she could breathe again.
…
Sam tries to occupy Brittany, but she keeps staring at Santana.
Santana sleeps with Quinn. Brittany tries not to feel jealous.
“I still love you, you know?”
Santana doesn’t say it back.
…
Brittany always assumes she has time. That she has forever. That she and Santana would have their happily ever after.
She was wrong.
…
The gunshot rings in her ears.
Brittany doesn’t feel the pain at first, but her legs give out on her and she crashes into the floor. Her breathing starts to become more constricted, unlike earlier. Her lungs were physically unable to keep up. More gunshots ring out, and the shooter turns and flees, before collapsing further down the hallway.
The pain starts creeping up, like fire.
She’s going to die.
Brittany had heard that, when you are about to die, your whole life flashes before your eyes.
But all she could see in that flash was Santana.
How they’ll never get their happy ending.
And Brittany knows she’s not there with her anyways, but she still cries out for Santana.
Cries out for her even as she barely registers Sam kneeling by her side and calling out for her, voice already ragged from the people he had already lost. He’s screaming.
“Santana… Santana.... I love you,” Brittany mumbled, and Sam screams louder.
His hands are red from blood that is not his or hers’. He mumbles things like, “You have to be the one to tell Santana that,” and “God I’m not ready to lose you too, please…” He cries. He sobs.
Brittany’s vision is fading. With her last strength, she imagines it’s Santana holding her, and not Sam. She smiles.
“I love you San… goodbye.”
The last thing she hears is Sam throwing his phone across the hallway and the rushing footsteps of paramedics.
She feels a tear run down her cheek.
She hates goodbyes because they feel so permanent.
…
Kurt receives a spamming of texts and calls while he’s cooking. His phone rings loudly across the room, annoying his other two roommates.
“Can’t you just put down your cooking for one moment to answer your phone?” Santana grumbled, typing at her laptop and rubbing at her forehead.
“This will burn!” Kurt called back. His phone persistently rings.
“Kurt, it could be important,” Rachel said, coming out of her bedroom. “It could be your dad or-” She looks at the phone. “It was mostly from Blaine. Now it’s just Sam and Tina spamming.”
“They’re probably sending memes again,” Kurt said back.
“It could be important,” Rachel argued back. “It could be something happening back at Lima.”
Santana feels a bolt of anxiety as she says that, as if something’s wrong. But before she could retort that it was probably nothing, Santana’s phone lights up with a deluge of spam texts from Sam and Tina. And calls. Mostly from Sam.
“I’m getting it too,” Santana said slowly.
“It could be really important. They don’t normally text or call like this,” Rachel pointed out.
Almost immediately, Santana feels like something bad had happened and she hesitates for a moment before picking up the phone. Something is churning low in her gut. Anxiety.
Why hasn’t Britt texted or called?
Almost immediately, the calls from Sam stop coming.
Tina is persistent, however.
Santana answers it.
“Tina Cohen-Chang, you give me several damn good reasons why you’re blowing up my phone right now-”
“There was a school shooting!” Tina all but screams into the phone, forcing Santana to put it on speaker before she freezes, dropping the phone. Rachel is the one who picks it up and sets it on the table.
Kurt at the counter stops moving.
“There was a school shooting and I wasn’t inside and people are screaming and Figgins won’t let me in and they’re inside- oh God- they’re all still inside!” Tina is barely coherent, on the verge of babbling nonsense, and all Santana could do was stare at the TV, stare at it as if it would help her comprehend this. “They’re bringing people out-”
“Who are they?!” Santana snapped, cutting Tina off. “Where is Brittany?!”
“They’re gathering the survivors… oh God… SAM! SAM! SAM-” There was a bit of noise as Tina probably ran to Sam. “SAM! Oh God- the blood- are you hurt?!”
They barely could make out what Sam could say, before Tina screams out Blaine’s name in horror and anguish that makes Kurt abandon his cooking and rush to Santana and Rachel.
“... time of death, 3.40 pm…”
Kurt stared at the clock.
3.40 pm.
“Tina,” Kurt said, voice carefully controlled now. “Who was that?”
“... Blaine,” Sam said, softly now.
“No.” The word was out of Santana’s mouth before she could stop it. “What about the others? McCripplepants? Mini Quinn? My protege? Ser Detective? Come on, Ser Detective would have kicked their asses.”
“I’m here,” Kitty’s voice sounded on the phone, so tired and distant. “Unique’s here too. Ryder as well. Joe and Sugar also. Sam’s here, Tina’s here.”
There was a heavy pause.
“Where are the others?” Santana asked. She doesn’t want to know. She can’t know. She doesn’t want to think that they’re dead. They’re not. They shouldn’t be. She wants to know but also dreads the answer. It can’t be. No, no, no.
“They broke into the choir room,” Ryder explained. “They got Artie in the head.”
Santana doesn’t want to know. She doesn’t want to know. She doesn’t want to know. She doesn’t want to know how her friends died, their last words, nothing, because they should be alive. She won’t accept it.
(She wants that happily ever after with Britt.)
Kurt swallows hard. Rachel looks like she wants to puke.
“What about the others?” Kurt spoke up bravely. “They must just be injured right?”
“... Joe got shot but he’s going to be fine.” That wasn’t the answer they were looking for.
“That’s not what we’re asking,” Santana snapped, because she hasn’t heard Brittany’s name in all of this and she wants to know where Brittany is.
Kitty let out a loud sigh, before bursting into a sob. “They already have all the known survivors out of the building. Blaine was lucky enough to feel the sun on his face before he died.”
“No.” Santana was on her feet before anyone knew it. “NO.”
“It’s known survivors!” Kurt tried to explain helpfully. “Maybe the others are just hiding? Maybe Britt was hiding and they haven’t found her yet. Like the others!”
“Most of us were in the choir room.”
That shut down that hope relatively quickly.
“Brittany wasn’t there,” Kitty said. “She could be hiding, right?”
“So… Jake, Marley, Artie, Blaine, Parker…” Rachel whispered. “They’re all gone? Like, dead dead?”
There was silence down the line.
The silence was enough for Kurt to start crying, tears dripping down his cheeks. Rachel again looked like she wanted to hurl.
Santana looked like she wanted to go to Lima herself and shake them all awake herself.
“I refuse to believe it. Ser- Parker would have kicked their asses.” Santana looked helplessly at Rachel and Kurt. “It’s true! She would have. There’s no way in absolute hell she’s dead. She won’t let anything happen to any of you, especially Marley. That’s why there is no way, I’m believing this crap that any of them are gone. None of them are gone!” Especially not Brittany. “Sam! I told you and Parker to look out for her for me! Why the hell did you let her out of your sights-”
“SANTANA!” Sam shouted. “Brittany is dead.”
There was a series of collective gasps on the line, and the world went silent for Santana.
“That’s not right.” Santana’s shaking her head. “You’re lying. Absolutely lying. Trouty face, her not coming out of the building doesn’t mean she’s dead-”
“SHE CALLED OUT FOR YOU!” Sam screamed. “She called out for you. She thought I was you. She said…” Sam sniffed. “She said goodbye San. The kicker was that she was so close to getting out! I saw her… I saw her die.” Sam took a huge breath in. “I couldn’t do anything, Santana. I’m sorry.”
“Bullshit!” Santana snarled. “You and Ser Detective-”
“See, that was the thing! Do you want to know why Parker died?” He didn’t wait for her response before he plowed on. “She died helping Brittany escape. She could have run with us, run out! But oh no, she decided to run back for Britt.” Sam let out a sob. “She stayed right where she was and she fought the last shooter. He shot her in the head.”
“Utter bullshit. She would beat his ass-”
“Santana…” Sam said quietly. “After Artie was shot they came after Blaine. Jake tried to defend him but he was shot and he bled out on the floor. Blaine was still holding on at that point. Parker attacked them. They randomly shot at her before she knocked them out. She got shot too. Marley was behind Parker… got hit. She died in her arms. Parker broke the shooter’s neck after that and told us to go. She was going on a suicide mission to save Britt.” Sam paused. “You’re not the only one who wants to believe that they’re all still alive. I do too. There was nothing more than me willing to revive Blaine in my arms or me wishing that Brittany would magically heal in front of me. They’re gone. Brittany is gone. She said goodbye, Santana.”
“Brittany hates goodbyes,” Santana whispered. “She’d never say goodbye.”
The reality is sinking in. Santana sinks down on the couch, thinking about the last time she said ‘I love you’ to Brittany.
Santana never said it back the last time Brittany said it.
She abruptly gets up, stumbling over her feet to her room, tearing through her belongings and clothes and stacks and stacks of paper until she found it.
The Legend of the Legendary Unicorn.
The paper blurs in front of her and Santana hunches over and cries. She screams into the floor, as she curls up into a ball hugging the paper to her chest.
I love you Britt. Please. Come back.