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Santana leaned against the brick building that housed Trader Joe’s and tried to prevent her skirt from flying up. She was still getting used to the Northern California weather. Back in Ohio it seemed like California was nothing but beaches and sunshine. Santana researched Berkeley enough to know that there were hills and trees, but she’d seen people walking around campus in shorts and tee shirts and it seemed to fit the picture she’d been sold her entire life. She didn’t even last a week before she had made a call to Daddy, begging for her warmer clothes to be sent to her (and if he could get Brittany’s parents to send her clothes as well). Santana was still trying to hold onto the way she used to dress, when she only had to deal with the weather going and coming from school, not between classes. She’d been struggling with the wind and her skirt all day, she just wanted to go home and change, but she needed to see Brittany first.
Their classes at Berkeley were in unrelated subjects and on opposite sides of campus from each other. It was completely different than what they’d gone through at Lima City College. When they weren’t taking the same general education classes, they were down the hall from each other. They had to get used to not seeing one another all the time, but at least they got to come home to each other. It was the bright spot they were able to focus on every day.
“Fucking wind.” Santana tugged her skirt down and scowled.
“That’s what you get for getting kicked out of TJ’s.” Brittany’s voice murmured next to Santana, who turned and immediately forgot about her skirt issues. A smile graced her lips before she placed them softly against Brittany’s.
“It’s not my fault the hippies can’t take a joke.”
“They take veganism seriously here.” Brittany rolled her eyes.
“Berry wouldn’t have blinked.”
“Rachel was too busy wondering if her boyfriend was accidentally serving her meat to care about you insulting her eating habits, at least you remembered them.” Brittany pinched Santana’s side.
“Whatever,” Santana shrugged. “Hey, babe.” Santana dropped all pretenses and let the excitement of seeing her girlfriend for the first time that day take her over. Her eyes softened, a smile graced her lips and her arms softly tugged Brittany closer.
“Hi.” Brittany sighed and burrowed her forehead into the crook of Santana’s neck. Santana stiffened.
“What’s wrong, Britt?”
“Nothing.” Brittany nuzzled her nose against Santana’s neck and tried to pull herself even closer to Santana, her hands fisted into the inside fabric of Santana’s leather jacket.
“Brittany, what happened?” Santana moved her hands in soothing patterns on Brittany’s back, over her purple and white floral printed work shirt.
“Can we just stay like this for my break, please?” There was a slight waver to Brittany’s voice. Santana noticed it, but knew Brittany had two hours left of work. It wasn’t the time to get into things.
“You don’t even need to ask, love.” Santana pressed her lips firmly to Brittany’s temple, “but if I need to introduce someone to the Snix Express, just say the word.”
“I love you.” Brittany’s voice sounded the same, but Santana could feel the smile against her neck.
“Always.”
--x—
In the time they’ve known each other, Santana has learned certain things about Brittany. Certain unwavering facts that have been there ever since the beginning, facts like Brittany is allergic to sesame seeds, when she’s happy she can’t sit still and when she’s angry or sad she gets quiet and unmoving. Brittany’s default state is pretty much stuck on happy and it takes a lot to bring her down. Santana’s seen Brittany go through a lot, she’s seen Brittany have insults hurled at her or guys try to take advantage of her or push her around and she’s just danced away like they were water on a duck’s back. So, Santana knew it was serious earlier, when Brittany burrowed into her arms and wouldn’t talk about it, but she also knew that it wasn’t the right time.
Santana had promised herself, in her junior year of high school, that she’d never be the cause of Brittany going quiet and still again. She’d promised herself that she’d try her hardest to prevent it from ever happening, but when it did she’d bring Brittany back to bubbles, smiles and her intoxicating giggles. Leaving Brittany at the end of her break and heading home was immensely difficult, but they needed Brittany’s job to help pay the rent and their discount on groceries was insanely helpful. Santana had to go home. She knew that Brittany could take care of herself, but it left an ache in her heart knowing she couldn’t help her girl.
Being responsible adults really kinda sucked sometimes.
When Santana got home, she immediately slipped out of her shirt, skirt and heels and took a shower. She didn’t apply any makeup when she got out; just blow dried her hair and put her glasses on before putting on jeans and her Timberland boots. She rolled her eyes at herself, a million gay jokes always popped into her head whenever she slipped into them, but she didn’t care ‘cause they were comfortable and warm and she didn’t know how much she’d be walking later. Santana dug through the piles of clothes on their floor. Their school weeks were too busy and by the time they got home they were too tired to hang things up or put them in a hamper, they wanted to get out of their clothes as soon as possible and into bed. Weekends were when they cleaned their apartment up and today was Thursday, so Santana had to sift through numerous piles before finding her favorite sweatshirt. It was actually Brittany’s. She’d bought it when they visited Berkeley the previous year while they were touring colleges to see where the best fit would be. The sweatshirt was navy blue and had a big graphic of the face of Oski, the school’s mascot, smirking at the world on the front. Santana pulled a tee shirt on over her head before doing the same with Brittany’s sweatshirt. She then went about searching for Brittany’s favorite outfit.
Santana’s present to Brittany, when she graduated McKinley, was a big gray sweatshirt with a picture of Lord Tubbington on it. It instantly became one of Brittany’s favorite pieces of clothing. Santana had to force Brittany to not wear it every day during summer, it was hard with Brittany doing that pout of hers, but Ohio’s summers were humid and hot and Brittany should only be in bikinis as much as possible, so Santana persevered. (Actually, it took Santana flippantly suggesting that Brittany just use it as a pillow case if she needed to be so close to the sweatshirt so often. Lord Tubbington took a favor to sitting on himself that summer, talk about an ego.) Brittany doesn’t wear it every day anymore, at least not to classes, it had started to fray around the edges, but it’s still Brittany’s favorite shirt. Santana finds it between the couch cushions and places it, and Brittany’s favorite pair of jeans (which are actually Mike Chang’s. Brittany had accidentally taken them after dance practice one day and never gave them back), into her dufflebag. They’re slightly baggy on her and sit low on her hips, but Santana’s never seen anything look as amazing on Brittany as they do.
Santana finds amusement in the fact that Brittany’s favorite clothes for herself are what Santana likes seeing Brittany in the most. The sweatshirt shrunk over time and doesn’t even come close to the top of the jeans. On lazy weekends Santana’s usually privy to Brittany’s hair up in a messy and loose bun, her belly button peeking out from beneath the sweatshirt and bare feet emerging from beneath baggy denim to help her dance around the apartment. It’s the imagery Santana focuses on the most during her difficult days, the long days where she doesn’t see her girlfriend. Santana just remembers that all she had to do is make it through the week and the weekend would be full of Brittany.
The jeans were in the hamper, which was rarer than Brittany having a bad day. Santana stuffed them and Brittany’s favorite hat (it’s fuzzy and larger than Lord Tubbington) into the duffle, along with an apple and a lollipop. Santana didn’t know what to prepare for, but she was confident that her plan would cheer Brittany up no matter what was wrong.
-x-
Santana spent the walk to the dance studio, where Brittany had a hip hop class, trying to figure out what had happened to Brittany. Thursdays were exceptionally long days for them. Santana had to be at the marina at five in the morning, she’d gotten it into her head that being the coxswain for the women’s crew team was the best way of dealing with her rage issues and staying in shape. She got to yell without repercussions, but the price was getting up before the sun and freezing her ass off with girls the size of Frankenteen. Santana would make it home by seven thirty, which is when Brittany would usually be leaving for her eight o’clock Introduction to Logic course. Brittany usually waited long enough for Santana to get home for a good morning kiss before running out the door with her longboard to skate to class on. (Santana had tried that once and ended up missing her class entirely due to repeatedly falling off the board or running into trees or people.) They wouldn’t see each other after that until Santana met Brittany on her break at work, which was only a fifteen minute window, then at least three more hours to survive through without each other. Thursdays felt like they took forever and were even longer when one of them had a bad day. Usually it was Santana who had the bad days to wade through; Brittany was prone to deflecting or rejecting the negative, which is why Santana couldn’t even begin to guess what had happened to darken the stars in her girlfriend’s eyes.
The dance studio was brightly lit, warm and inviting. Santana rarely visits. She loves to watch Brittany dance, but its Brittany’s thing. Becoming one with the music is almost sacred to Brittany, it’s where she can let everything go and work through her emotions. Santana knows that she’s a distraction from that, if Brittany knows that she’s in the studio, Brittany wouldn’t give herself fully over to the music. Her dance becomes a dance for Santana, just like when Brittany would show up to Santana’s vocal sessions. They’re sorely hurting for some together time, but their moments escaping through music were just as essential.
Santana snuck through the hallway, keeping to the shadows as she peered through the window into Brittany’s class to see Brittany krumping. She looked pissed off. Brittany never looked this mad. The only notes she ever gets about her hip hop routines is that she smiles too much. Santana’s brow crinkled, she had hoped that dancing would solve whatever was troubling Brittany. The class ended and Brittany feigned smiles and gave hugs to her fellow dancers, but didn’t follow them out of the room. Santana stayed where she was, hidden from Brittany’s view, and watched Brittany plug her phone into the speaker system and select a song. A filthy and incessant bass line interlaced with hard sharp hits of drums and electric guitar attacked Santana through the speakers. She blinked. Brittany must have raised the volume, Santana had barely heard the music while the class was in session, but it came through loud and clear through the wall. The pulse of the beat crashed into her over and over and Santana wondered how loud it actually was for Brittany. Santana’s brow creased, the music was dark and angry. She didn’t know that Brittany had music like this; she’d have to look at her iTunes when they got home.
Brittany threw her body around the room while expanding and contracting it in hard bursts looking like convulsions. She twisted and turned and then the music cut out except for a delicate strand of guitar that continued to play. A melodious male voice softly began to sing. Brittany’s body matched the tone. Her movements became soft and lyrical, her arms and legs extended out in delicate curves and languid movements. Santana caught her breath, the thrumming bass against her chest had made it difficult, and the reprise was welcome. Brittany was beautiful in her movements even though Santana could see the unrest coming out. Santana jumped. The hard angry music had come back and scared her. Brittany had expected it and transitioned flawlessly into her next set of moves. She’d gone back to being jerky. Brittany was embodying the movements of someone coming undone. If Santana didn’t know any better, if she hadn’t spent years watching Brittany dance, going to showcases and watching an endless amount of dance films, she’d be worried that Brittany was actually breaking down. That wasn’t the case. Brittany was born to dance. She was born to become the music and give herself over completely to the emotions that needed to be confessed. The movements, though jerky and jagged, were perfectly executed and the transitions into the softer moments interspersed throughout the song were made without a flaw.
Santana watched in awe as Brittany danced her way through the song. The initial shock of the music had faded and all Santana could focus on was Brittany and the emotions that poured out of her. Santana rarely got to glimpse this Brittany. She was captivating and beautiful in a completely different way than Santana was used to. Though she worried about what caused Brittany to need this release, she couldn’t help but be astounded at the capabilities her girlfriend possessed. Santana knew Brittany was amazing, but she never knew it was like this.
Brittany threw herself onto the ground, she kicked and punched at it and then went still as the music died. She was face down and her body heaved as it tried to recover the breath it lacked. Santana quietly opened the glass door of the studio and walked over to Brittany. She gently placed the duffle onto the floor and sat with her legs crossed next to Brittany’s head. Santana didn’t try to touch her, though she wanted to hold her and comb fingers through her hair, this was Brittany’s space and she knew that Brittany needed to control what would happen.
They sat there for a long while; their breaths evened out and matched each others like they always did with the other around. The silence was comforting, but Santana’s brow furrowed. She wanted to know what was wrong. She wanted to help Brittany be happy again, but she wouldn’t force Brittany into it. She never did. Perhaps a half hour passed before Brittany finally rolled over and looked at Santana. Her eyes were red, but the tears had dried. When Brittany shrugged and the corner of her lips gave a rueful tug, Santana knew she could talk.
“So, how much time did you spend with Puck while I wasn’t around?” Santana raised her eyebrow and pursed her lips.
“I’m a dancer. I’m supposed to like all kinds of music.”
“Britt.” A dry, cracked laugh left Santana’s mouth.
“I missed you and hated Rachel and Puck is you, but with a penis and an animal on his head. I never did learn how he could get that black ferret to just stay there. Lord Tubbington would never stay put when I tried to wear him for hair and he’s, like, super lazy.” Brittany traced patterns on the floor with her fingers.
“Brittany.”
“You weren’t the only one hurting.” Brittany looked up and met Santana’s eyes again, “I know you know that now, but I needed someone and Puck already knew about us. Well, he knew the surface and it was enough, and he doesn’t ask questions. I know you know all the reasons why I would go to him.”
“What about –“
“Lauren knew I wasn’t a threat. She was there half the time anyway, never asking any questions or anything. We’d just sit and play XBox and listen to Puck’s music and I could feel everything and forget at the same time.” Brittany pushed herself up and moved to sit next to Santana. She took Santana’s hand, “I think I drove Puck insane in wanting to listen to the album that song came from, like, nonstop.”
“It’s certainly intense.”
“I think I just liked that it was so unlike everything I was used to. There are all these different levels, so many things to pay attention to, that all merge together perfectly,” Brittany squeezed Santana’s hand, “Much like the girl I was in love with.”
“You ready to talk about it?” Santana brushed back some of Brittany’s hair from her face, taking care to only lightly touch her skin.
“Can we go somewhere? I don’t want words here.”
“Definitely, I had a plan and brought you clothes.” Santana tapped on the duffle before pushing it closer to Brittany, “Change and then we’ll go.”
“Go where?” Brittany stood and looked down at Santana.
“I think you’ll like it.”
“Okay.” Brittany picked up the duffel and went to the bathroom in the corner of the room.
-x-
The air in the station was stagnant. During the day there was barely any room to stand, but at night it was desolate and held an edge of restlessness. There were only a couple of people standing around waiting for their trains to come, or just needing a place to sleep for the night. They stood facing an advertisement for car insurance. It was an indoor billboard and the woman with her intense blue eyes, headband and ruby red lipstick seemed to be staring directly at them. Brittany stepped closer to Santana and adjusted the duffle tighter to her back. Santana squeezed their intertwined fingers. They never felt comfortable holding a conversation in these stations. It was silly, really, no one was around them and it’s not like they’d be talking about national security or anything, but as soon as they walked past the ticket reader they’d just lapse into silence.
FOUR CAR FREMONT BOUND TRAIN NOW ARRIVING
Santana always wondered if the woman who recorded the B.A.R.T. station announcements looked as pleasant as she sounded. She had named the GPS of her car, the one she left back in Ohio, Lola. Santana reasoned that Lola went to Oxford for a Masters in English, but got bored with it all and decided to go into voice over work to keep her amused and pay for schooling. Then Puck showed up to Glee in a dress and a wig, calling himself Lola and completely shattered the illusion Santana had made for herself and the woman in the GPS. She wondered if the mysterious lady of BART looked like Kate Winslet or more like Puck in a dress as the silver transit train slowed down to a stop in front of them.
The doors opened and Santana let Brittany lead the way. There were various ways they could sit and it all depended upon what kind of adventure you wanted to have. They stepped into one of the newer cars, it looked pristine and brand new compared to the older cars with their worn down brown seats, stained carpets and scratched up windows. It was part of the mystique, sometimes Santana preferred the older cars and how they worked just as well as the new cars even though they looked all torn up. Brittany chose the seats facing backwards at the back of the car. Santana placed the duffle underneath the seat before she sat down next to the window. She lifted a leg to lie across the bench seat and opened her arms to Brittany, who immediately placed herself between Santana’s legs and curled into the embrace. Santana placed a kiss on the crown of Brittany’s head and rested her chin there. The doors closed after a chime and they jolted forwards slightly as the train took off. The white noise of the metal wheels against the metal track surrounded them and gave them a further sense of privacy, even though they were the only people in the car.
“I just had a bad day, that’s all.” Brittany sighed out. She played with Santana’s bracelet, “I got into another debate with Roush.”
“Your Intro to Logic professor, right?”
“Yeah.”
“But you’re always getting into discussions with him.” Santana crunched her brow in confusion.
“Yeah. It got a little heated.”
“Isn’t that what always happens though?”
“Yeah.”
“Britt, help me out here,” Santana gave a soft squeeze of her arms, and hugged Brittany closer.
“I won the debate. Roush knew it too, but we basically took up the entire class period debating the validity of a certain thing and I guess people were annoyed at me or something ‘cause when we were dismissed from class people were telling me to shut up and saying that I was stupid and an idiot –“ Brittany’s voice hitched and she dug her nose into Santana’s neck.
“I will fucking cut them.” Santana growled.
“You know it doesn’t – well, it didn’t used to – phase me.” Brittany lifted herself up slightly and gave Santana a soft appreciating kiss. “I was emotional enough already ‘cause of the adrenaline that comes with debating something, especially with people watching, that their comments got to me. I was so confuzzled that I was half way the wrong way across campus before I realized I was going in the wrong direction to my next class and…it was just a bad day.”
“Brittany.” Santana purred while trying to cuddle closer. The subtle way the train car rocked provided a calm feel and the odd green yellow of the fluorescent lighting was a comfort in the way it added a surreal edge to the space around them. There was more to the story, of that Santana was sure. Brittany would’ve been over it all by the time Santana saw her at break. Brittany loved working at TJ’s. It was the randomly colored shirts and floral prints. Santana wouldn’t pressure Brittany into talking. They had as much time as they needed. They sat and looked out the window, at the black void outside of the car that was broken up by street and house lights. Everything looked different under the orange circles of illumination that provided a fuzzy contrast to the darkness that surrounded everything else. They were quiet for quite some time. Santana thought that Brittany had fallen asleep.
“Darnell called out at the last minute today, his momma got sick and he needed to take care of her.” Brittany whispered as she sat up and turned to look at Santana, “which is usually totally fine ‘cause you know that TJ’s is, like, all about helping people out and stuff, but we didn’t have enough people on to cover. So, they assigned me to restock the floor.”
“Oh, no.” Santana leaned towards Brittany, who nodded.
“Doing inventory in the back is easy you know, ‘cause it’s counting and I get to draw the signs for the store, but well, you know what happened the last time they had me restock the floor…” Brittany sighed and looked down and played with the ring on her finger, “today I thought that the bananas should be next to the bread ‘cause how else would the banana breads feel welcome?”
“Britt,” Santana cooed, she couldn’t help that the corners of her lips turned upwards at how big her girlfriend’s heart was.
“Apparently that wasn’t right, and Chelsea was overly hormonal or something, ‘cause she fucking dragged me to the back of the store and yelled at me.” Brittany shrugged.
“That crusty ass, vegan bitch! The next time I see her, I’m going to throw a hamburger at her.”
“San,” Brittany chuckled. “That’s mean.”
“Who cares, she’s not supposed to touch you let alone yell at you.” Santana noticed that Brittany was still tense, “What else is there, babe?”
“She questioned how I was ever admitted into Berkeley in the first place and then asked me who I had to blow to get in.” Brittany’s nostrils flared and her jaw clenched at the recollection, “it’s not the slights to my intelligence, you know? I know I get confused sometimes and I’ve gotten used to the comments. I’ve gotten used to overhearing people’s lengthy discussions as to my intelligence, but I thought that it would all change once I got in.”
“People are ignorant, Britt.”
Brittany stood up and pulled Santana with her. Santana looked around and noticed that they needed to switch trains to head back to Berkeley. She hadn’t realized that so much time had passed. Santana pulled the duffle out from under the seat and carried it with one hand while the other was tugged by Brittany, who led them to the platform.
There was a different feeling to the outside platforms. Perhaps it was the open air and the view of the dots of light in the blackness before them, but they always seemed less imposing than the underground stations. They didn’t talk until they were seated, facing backwards again, on the train headed in the opposite direction, headed towards home. Sometime during their many night travels on B.A.R.T. they formed a tradition of sorts. The trains were for talking, of getting out the scary things or most intense negative emotions, where they could get the things out, leave them on the train and go home with a sense of promise. The platforms and stations were stagnant. Their lack of movement was not worthy of their discussions and their imposing nature prevented them from feeling comfortable enough to talk. There was just something about those transit cars that made them feel comfortable.
“I just thought that people would realize that I am obviously here for a reason. I got in on my own merits. I deserve to be at Cal. I deserve it. I got my grades up. I passed my SATs – probably scored better than most of them. My IQ is higher than ninety nine percent of the population, San.” Brittany squeezed Santana closer. They had switched positions like they switched trains.
“I know babe. I have a genius as a future wifey.” Santana sat up and beamed down at Brittany before she placed a kiss on her nose.
“I just get easily confused.”
“You’re too busy thinking about more important things.” Santana lowered herself back down on Brittany’s chest.
“I really like it here, but I thought people would be different. Isn’t this college supposed to be all about embracing people’s quirks?”
“Brittany, there’s always going to be people who don’t understand how wonderful you are. It has nothing to do with you, it’s their own insecurities.” Santana turned to look at Brittany, “believe me, I know. I used to tear people down all the time.”
“You always held me up, though.” Brittany smiled down at Santana and twirled some escaped black hair between her pale fingertips.
“Yeah, well, you were special.” Santana shrugged, her lips lifted into a shy grin.
“San?” Brittany stroked her fingers along Santana’s jaw.
“Yeah, babe?”
“Did you ever know that you’re my hero?”
“What?” Santana sat up and her eyes widened.
“You’re everything I wish I could be.”
“Britt, you’re not –“
“I could fly higher than an eagle.” Brittany grinned as she sang out at the top of her lungs, “’cause you are the wind beneath my wings.”
“Babe, I love you, but you...please stop.” Santana laughed as Brittany flapped her arms as if they were wings. She kept singing even as the doors to the train opened, but came to an abrupt stop when a noisy group of teens walked onto the train. They looked at each other for a moment before the group erupted into laughter and headed for the opposite end of the train. Santana shook her head and turned to Brittany, who was now smiling, “I take it that you feel better?”
“Yeah,” Brittany sighed. “I just needed to escape for a bit.”
“Go on an adventure.” Santana nodded.
“Ride our little train in the sky.” Brittany smiled, “I always feel like I’m time travelling.”
“One day, Britt. You’ll build a time machine and be like The Doctor or H.G.”
“I love that you believe in me.”
“Yeah, well, how could I not?” Santana blushed and cuddled into Brittany, “I’ve been in love with the way you think since, like, forever.”
“I believe in you too, you know.” Brittany lifted Santana’s head and made sure to make eye contact before bringing their lips together. With the kiss, the last of Brittany’s troubles melted away. It was delicate yet strong and Santana poured all of her love into it, to give Brittany all the strength she needed.
“We’ve got each other, and together nothing is impossible.” Santana kissed Brittany’s forehead, “we’re still getting used to everything, give us some time and we’ll be ownin’ this place.”
“Definitely.” Brittany held Santana closer as they drifted into silence, content to watch the lights and darkness pass by. They stayed that way until they descended into the tunnels that told them their station would be coming soon and Brittany broke the silence with a whispered, “Thank you.”
“Always.” Santana whispered back and snuggled further into Brittany’s embrace.