Holy FUCK I was not prepared for the feels that I got from writing this chapter, oh my GOD.

Anyways!

I won't talk much, because I'm going to talk a LOT at the end. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, read, etc. the last chapter. I hope you enjoy this final chapter.

~And stay tuned after the story, for a (long) word from your sponsor! XD~


Lying in my bed I hear the clock tick and think of you

Caught up in circles confusion is nothing new

If you're lost, you can look, and you will find me

If you fall, I will catch you- I'll be waiting

Time after time

Brittany knows as soon as she tells Santana about MIT that Santana won't ask her to come live with her in New York; because Brittany would drop MIT in an instant, and she knows Santana knows that.

(Brittany would drop everything in an instant to be with Santana.)

But MIT is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and Santana has never been selfish when it comes to Brittany. She's always loved her enough to let her go, to let Brittany follow her dreams- even if it means being away from Santana for a little longer.

What Santana doesn't know, though, is that Santana is Brittany's dream, and that, if Santana asked her, Brittany would drop MIT in an instant to be with Santana.

(Brittany would drop everything in an instant to be with Santana.)

And now, Brittany has a choice to make. She could lie- she could continue to push Santana away and hold her at a distance on Brittany's ridiculous melted cheese show (and yet Santana's sitting opposite her, playing along, and despite the circumstances, Brittany's heart beats, beats, beats) and keep this important secret, because it would mean she could be with Santana sooner. She could suffer at McKinley for a few more months, get her diploma, and then... What? Struggle in college in New York? Ride on the coattails of Santana's fame and success? What could Brittany possibly offer Santana, anyways? Brittany's not stupid- she doesn't expect to be famous like Santana, or on Broadway like Rachel, or have a (failed) record deal like Mercedes. She's not stupid, but the rest of the world- everyone except Santana- will never believe that.

Except-

Except now MIT does believe that. MIT has figured out what Santana has known for ages, and now Brittany has a chance- a real chance- to show Santana that she was right, that Brittany is a genius, and now Brittany sees a future for them where she's just as capable of providing for Santana as Santana is for her. Santana's always protected her and taken care of her, and Brittany knows that dreams- especially the kind of dreams Santana has- don't come easily, or quickly. And maybe Brittany could protect Santana, could take care of Santana, if she succeeds at MIT- at least until Santana's own dreams can come true.

Santana won't have to settle down with a Two-Time Senior- a Lima Loser- who barely graduated and has no future; Santana will settle down with an MIT Graduate. Brittany has no idea what that will mean, or where she will go from there- but does it matter? It can only, only, only ever be good.

Even if it means being apart from Santana for a little longer.

So when Santana finally drops her defenses- when Santana shows Brittany that she cares, and that she's never not cared about her- when she shows Brittany that she's no longer black, that she's moved on, matured- well, what can Brittany do but relent and open up to her?

Even if it means being apart from Santana for a little longer.


Brittany knew Santana would find her.

And maybe she just wanted to have a moment where it's just them- just like it's always been, because yeah, Glee Club was the setting (It's where we fell in love) but the story is theirs. It's always been about them. They joined together, they found each other, and at the end of the day, when the lights and the costumes are gone, it will always be just them.

(It's where we fell in love.)

And Santana will always, always find her.


Wait, Brittany breathes, before they get to the choir room, and she tugs Santana back from the door and a few steps down the hall.

What's up, Britt-Britt? Santana asks, slipping so easily into the old nickname, slipping so easily into the old them, now that they are walking down familiar halls wrapped in each other.

Brittany answers Santana with her mouth- pressed up against Santana's. Brittany reaches up to tangle fingers in Santana's hair, pulling her closer as Santana kisses her back, and it's sweet and intimate and Brittany feels her heart racing- not from arousal, but from the feeling of being loved so deeply and so strongly that it makes her feel like a genius, makes her believe in her own magic, if someone so wonderful and perfect could love her the way Santana loves her; could catch her the way Santana catches her when she falls; could always, always find her.

Santana slides her free arm around Brittany and when their kiss ends, presses their foreheads together. Brittany smiles, squeezes Santana's hand where it's still locked tightly to her own, and laughs a little, so happy that she's sure she's going to wake up any second, so happy that it fills her entire body and threatens to explode out of her chest. Santana's smile mirrors Brittany's, and Brittany reaches up to trace her thumb over the dimple in her cheek before she leans down to press a gentle, lingering kiss there.

When Santana turns her head and catches Brittany's lips, Brittany feels her heart race for a different reason. The kiss turns heated quickly and Santana's free hand slides to Brittany's thigh, teasing fingertips under the hem of her dress, and Brittany inhales sharply in Santana's mouth. She tightens her grip on Santana's hand and Santana pushes her back against the lockers, her mouth straying down Brittany's jaw, down Brittany's neck, and Brittany focuses on the lockers on the other side of the hall, desperate to be quiet as Santana's hand slides up her stomach to squeeze at her breasts through the fabric of her dress. Brittany wonders if this will be the last time they make out in these hallways, and she smiles, because she's not left behind anymore, she's leaving, and the only time she wants to make out in these halls again with Santana is at their ten-year high school reunion-

San, she groans as Santana starts sucking at her skin, as teeth graze her shoulder, and she tugs Santana's hair lightly. We've got to-

Uh-huh, Santana pants against the base of her neck, and she kisses her neck a few more times before reluctantly pulling back. Their eyes meet, and then they're kissing again, fiercely. Okay, Santana says as she pulls back at last, looking like it's the last thing in the world she wants to do, and it's the last thing in the world Brittany wants her to do, but-

They walk to the choir room door, and with a reluctant sigh, Santana drops Brittany's hand (it's too soon- not for them, but for everyone else, but for Sam) and they share a look, an unspoken promise between them. Santana smiles softly at her, and Brittany's heart beats, beats, beats with happiness, with futures, with possibilities-

It will always be just them.


After the choir room, when they are at the Breadstix after-party with the rest of the Glee Club and the newlyweds, and Santana's bare thigh is pressed so close to Brittany's in the booth, and Santana's warmth and smell invades Brittany's senses, and Santana's hand is locked with Brittany's under the table, Brittany will be glad that her last time at Breadstix is with Santana when they are them. She didn't like coming to Breadstix with Sam, because Sam wasn't Santana, and Breadstix was theirs- but she didn't like not being reminded of Santana more, so she would come in a secret attempt to feel closer to her.

(I wish you'd hold my hand.)

Brittany squeezes Santana's hand under the table, secret, secret, secret.

Santana smiles at Brittany over the rim of her glass, and Brittany feels like her heart might explode.


At the after-after party at Marley's house- since her turd of a song is partly why they won Regionals, Brittany grudgingly admits- Brittany stays close to Santana's side the whole night, drawn to her like a magnet. She aches to hold Santana's hand but knows she can't (it's too soon- not for them, but for everyone else, but for Sam) and instead watches her secretly, her cheeks heating up as Santana brags about how smart Brittany is to everyone at the party.

Sam looks sad and deflated, and Brittany feels a little bit sorry for him, because Sam is nice. Sam is beautiful. Sam is tender, caring, and comforting. But Sam is not Santana- Sam never believed in Brittany the way Santana did (What? She cheated!) and Brittany was a little- or a lot- harsh in breaking up with him, but she'd been planning it for a while (she's going to get right with someone she loves very much) and with MIT giving her the final reassurance that she wasn't stuck in McKinley for another few long, agonizing months, she followed through. She'd been harsh because she needed Sam to understand, completely- it was Santana, it was always Santana, and it would always be Santana.

Sam made Brittany feel smart, but only by comparison- like Brittany was only smart because Sam was so not smart, but it didn't actually mean Brittany was smart. It was like having two donuts that fell in the sand, and getting the one that had less sand on it, but in the end, she was still left with a sandy donut, and Brittany just wanted a normal one-

Still, Brittany offers Sam a weak smile, and he returns it. And then his smile falls, and he waves tentatively, and it takes a second for Brittany to notice-

Santana's waving at him, a smirk on her face.

And Brittany feels a sense of déjà vu, when not even a month ago, Santana and Sam's roles were reversed at the first-time wedding of Will and Emma, and now it's the second-time wedding and Santana's doing the waving and Brittany remembers all her longing and sadness from then and swallows. Her throat feels dry (is it Quinn? Is it someone else?) and she finds herself wandering back into the house to get herself a drink.

On the way there, she's stopped by Mercedes, who personally congratulates her and offers her a genuine, proud smile. They stand alone in the hallway, talking for a moment, Brittany accepting Mercedes' praise because she deserves it, and nothing makes her happier than proving to people who once doubted her intelligence- especially people she cares about- that they were wrong about her.

That's really amazing, Mercedes says, smiling as Brittany tells her about The Brittany Code, and Brittany feels her heartbeat quicken as a smooth voice chimes in,

She's amazing.

And then she feels warm fingers sliding between her own, a hand tenderly holding hers, and then Santana's leaning in and pressing a kiss to Brittany's cheek, and Brittany looks at Santana like she's the only thing in the world, and Mercedes rolls her eyes.

Well, it's nice to know that hell hasn't frozen over just yet, she scoffs as she turns away, shaking her head, and Brittany thinks she knows what Mercedes means because it would take more than that for Brittany to not look at Santana like she's everything, and-

Here, Santana murmurs quietly, handing Brittany a glass. Brittany's heart feels like it's going to explode, because Santana will always, always find her.

In lieu of thanks, Brittany takes a huge sip and raises an eyebrow in question.

Santana shrugs. Yeah, I know- but did you really expect alcohol at this lame–ass party? She says with a roll of her eyes. Brittany smiles and lets Santana tug her back outside to the courtyard.


Music is playing and all their friends are dancing- silly- and they dance with them for a while- sillier- and then the song changes to something more slow, something more romantic, and Brittany bites her lip, hesitating.

Santana doesn't hesitate.

She pulls Brittany close, slides an arm around her, locks their hands together and tucks her face into Brittany's neck, breathing her in, and Brittany holds Santana closer, and it's all she wants as Billy Joel croons from the speakers and Santana's moist lips press to her skin, sending shivers down her spine. They dance slowly, intimately, lost in each other. Brittany leans her head against Santana's and it's too soon, but she doesn't care, because she's spent the last few months of her life missing and wasting and she refuses to miss or waste anymore. She's not left behind, she's leaving, and she deserves it, deserves the happiness trying to burst out of her chest.

It's too soon, but Brittany doesn't care, because it will never be fast enough to make up for lost time.

Brittany only wants Santana, so she closes her eyes and focuses on the gentle sway of their bodies and the pressure of Santana's warm skin against her and the sound of the music and lets herself get lost.

(Because she's not lost anymore- Santana will always, always find her.)


It's minutes later and they're kissing feverishly in the dark hall, secluded and alone. Brittany pulls back, trying to catch her breath, and Santana smiles a smile so full of love and admiration that it makes Brittany feel like she's falling and she's even more breathless. Fingers play with the hair on the back of Brittany's neck and Brittany closes her eyes at the feeling, focusing on the warmth of Santana's hand in hers.

Let's get out of here, Brittany breathes against Santana's lips, and smiles at the way Santana's breath catches in her throat.

Santana's fingers stroke through her hair a little faster, nervous as she says, And go where?

Anywhere, Brittany whispers, pleading. I just don't want to go home yet.

Santana just nods and pulls Brittany into another heated kiss.


They're driving around in Santana's dad's car (Santana's parents sold Santana's car when she moved to New York, since she wouldn't need it) and Brittany's not sure if her face is still intact or if it cracked from smiling too widely. She can't take her eyes off of Santana, and she doesn't want to. Everything feels surreal, and Brittany can't remember the last time she's been so happy. Santana hasn't let go of her hand, hasn't stopped driving, and Brittany loves just riding in the passenger seat listening to music and laughing with Santana more than she can say.

A part of Brittany realizes she should be sad, but Brittany isn't. Would she miss McKinley? No, not really. Her moment (her friends' moment, Santana's moment) came and left without her last year. She was left behind, like she missed an important flight, or that time she didn't get on the bus to return home from a Cheerios competition and her parents had to come find her, only no one came to find her this year, except-

Except Santana. Santana always believed in her, and as much as Brittany said she would miss Glee Club, it's just never been the same (it's always been just them, but without Santana she was just left behind)- the most important part of it was missing. Brittany couldn't look at Santana when she said her good-bye speech (it wasn't goodbye, it was until we find each other again) because she remembers too much. Santana chose the choir room as her location to set Brittany free (it's where we fell in love) and Brittany never answered when Santana said she counted Brittany's smiles.

Brittany wasn't counting Santana's smiles.

Brittany was counting the number of times Santana looked at her like that- like Brittany was the smartest person in the world, like Brittany was a genius, and Brittany counted the number of times Santana made her heart feel like it was going to explode right out of her chest from finally feeling like she was worth something- for finally starting to believe in her own magic.

So Sugar told me at the party that you brought My Cup back, Santana says with a flirty smile, and Brittany grins and squeezes Santana's hand and nods. I bet it was epic. I'm actually really bummed that I missed out on its triumphant return.

Brittany knows what Santana's doing, and she lets her. She opens her mouth and the words to My Cup come spilling out, and then Santana's chiming in, filling in Arty's back-up vocals, harmonizing with her, and Brittany is reminded of all the times they used to do this together in high school with every silly song on the radio- in the car, in their rooms, before, after and during Glee Club practice, and soon they're both screaming at the top of their lungs and dancing in their seats as they coast along the deserted backstreets of Lima, too late for normal people to be out driving around.

They stop at a red light and burst into hysterical giggles, absolutely pleased with themselves, and then before Brittany can process what's happening Santana's kissing her, and they're gripping each other tightly, and Santana's tongue slips past Brittany's lips and then a car horn is bleeping angrily from behind them.

Santana pulls back, blushing. They're both panting and the car behind them swerves angrily, the driver giving them a pointed glare as it passes, the engine roaring with rage as it accelerates, leaving them idling at the green light. Santana clears her throat, their eyes meet. Brittany offers Santana a small smile.

Santana turns back to the road and drives, and Brittany tugs Santana's hand into her lap and toys with her fingers, tracing absent-minded patterns on her palm as she angles her body towards Santana, wishing to be as close as possible to her. They drive in comfortable silence.

Santana doesn't let go of Brittany's hand.


When they turn down Brittany's street, Brittany's heart feels like it's in her throat. It's pounding with anticipation, and Brittany senses her grip tightening on Santana's hand as they approach the house. Santana parks on the street, and Brittany wants to invite Santana in more than anything.

(Brittany doesn't know when she will see Santana again, but she hopes, she hopes, she hopes-)

Santana gets out of the car silently, and Brittany nearly breathes a sigh of relief.

They enter the house and Brittany kisses Santana, slow and deep, at the door; kisses her insistent and probing at the foot of the stairs; kisses her desperate and hungry at the top of the stairs, and by the time Brittany tugs Santana through the door of Brittany's bedroom, their breaths are coming in short, ragged pants, and Santana's hand is on Brittany's ass, groping it shamelessly. Brittany's got a hand tangled in Santana's hair, using it to tilt Santana's head into the kiss to give her a better angle, to get deeper, and her other hand is at the small of Santana's back, pressing their hips together. Frantic hands work zippers down, fabric rustles, falls at their feet; Santana guides them- stumbles them, really- to the bed, and they fall back on it, tangled, hot stomachs and smooth, bare thighs pressing together in the most tantalizing way.

Brittany moans, wraps legs around Santana's legs, rubs them together- and even though it hasn't actually been that long since she's been with Santana, she's missed the feeling of intimacy- of bare skin sliding against bare skin- that being alone, with an actual room instead of a curtain, provided them.

Brittany's arms wrap around Santana, holding her close, keeping them pressed together while Santana explores her mouth like a professional, teasing her tongue against Brittany's tongue, against Brittany's lips. Santana's hips rock down gently, grinding her center against Brittany's, but the angle is off, it's not enough, and Brittany moans in frustration, lifting her thigh to guide Santana where she wants her.

Santana shuffles, props her other leg over Brittany's, shifts her hips, and then Brittany's inhaling sharply as their warm, wet centers meet. They kiss, sensual and slow, as Santana works her hips the way she knows Brittany likes, and Brittany's at the edge far too quickly, trembling, clutching at Santana.

Brittany brings Santana in close and then carefully rolls them, taking over, taking what's hers (she's going to get right with someone she loves very much) and now that she's free to take it- now that she's no longer in the wrong by doing so- she dominates Santana and shows her what she wants- shows Santana that Santana's always been what Brittany wants.

Their eyes meet, and Brittany feels that much closer to her release just by the look in Santana's eyes; Santana's not black, not anymore- she's open, unafraid, giving herself freely, and- and-

Brittany kisses her, panting. Yours, she gasps. I've always been yours.

Santana grips the back of Brittany's neck, not breaking eye contact. Her eyes say, I know, and her mouth gasps, I love you, and her body screams, I'm so, so close-

Brittany moans almost too loudly as their hard, swollen clits nudge together, and as Brittany feels herself close to shattering, she drags her center against Santana's one last time and crumbles apart, moaning, her hips still thrusting through her orgasm, her eyes never leaving Santana's as her mouth parts to pull in huge gulps of air.

The sight of Brittany shaking above her- the way Brittany's open eyes look when she comes- sends Santana over the edge; she arches up, she struggles not to close her eyes, not even when they start kissing again, and it's weird at first, but Santana can't look away- not when so much of her is Brittany's. Santana struggles to breathe.

I've always been yours, too.

(I'll always be yours)


Brittany knows the ending of her story with Santana- she's read the final chapters, she's seen the happily ever after. And there are some things- like everything else- that Brittany is willing to give up, but there are some things- like Santana, and happily ever after- that she isn't.

So the next morning when Santana gives her a tight good-bye hug (it's not good-bye, it's until we find each other again) and then pulls back a little with that scared, hesitant smile on her face, and her eyes silently ask What about you and I? Brittany only grins in response.

I love you, Santana. I love you more than I've ever loved anyone else in this world. All I know about you and I is that- because of that, I think anything is possible.

(Brittany knows Santana will always, always find her.)


:')

And that's a wrap!

I hope you enjoyed the story! Thanks for reading, everyone!

~And now a word from our sponsor 8)~

SO. Three things, really-

FIRST. You MAY have noticed that this story has cover art! Yay! I decided to get creative, and since this story is pretty dramatic and cheesy, I made the art very dramatic and cheesy, so enjoy!

But really, the cover art was actually made for- brace yourself- A FANMIX! Featuring all the terrible songs used as the titles of the chapters for this story! Wow! You can find the fanmix on my tumblr: xandylytex dot tumblr dot com. Enjoy, homies.

Okay, SECOND. I'm sure you are all going to cry yourselves to sleep tonight because this story is over, but I'm here to deliver you some GOOD FUCKING NEWS- the Summer of Smut is real!

And speaking of ships, THIRDLY I would just like to say- many of us are giving up on Glee, and that's okay. A lot of people just can't handle the show anymore, and I honestly don't fucking blame them. There's a lot of negativity and Debbie Downer type shit, and that sucks. It's really hard to be hopeful when most people have chosen to end Brittana's story with the choir room scene. But what about for those of us who don't want it to end yet? Of course we know Brittana end up together, that's obvious, but- there's two more seasons of Glee! What now?

WELL. Don't give up hope, my dear readers! I will be shipping Brittana as hard as possible, writing fics and drawing fanart until my little fingers and heart bleed, and when HeMo comes back to the show in 2014 for the second half of Season 5 (callin it RIGHT NOW) I'm going to be giving every fuck about what happens. SO. On that note, if you need positivity or just want to complain, my tumblr box is always open or you can send me a PM on here. :) I will throw so much hope at you your little Brittana heart will EXPLODE with happiness.

Until next time, take care, and keep on shippin' Brittana. :3