A/N: Everyone calm down. You know very well I couldn't just leave it like that. Sometimes you do need a kick in the ass to re-motivate you. So thanks for that!

"Santana?"

The brunette turned her head sharply, though her vision was still blurred. She had heard a car pulling up but hadn't thought anything of it, too racked with grief to care. When she saw Brittany there, out of her vehicle but a hand still on the door handle, unsure if she should really be there or not.

"How did you know I'd be here?" Santana said thickly, her throat coated from crying. What did it really matter? After what she'd almost done, what did it matter if Brittany was here to see her like this? She was too overwrought, a hurricane of emotions. Nothing made sense any more; everything she thought she'd known was a lie and everything she didn't believe was now truer than true: she had a part in causing her own pain, in causing Brittany's. If Brittany was there to see her this way, it didn't matter.

"A guess..."

Honestly Brittany hadn't known, she'd just wanted to go to a place that reminded her of a time when things weren't falling down around her. The fact that Santana was there had been a shock, but she tried to contain herself now that her presence had been made known.

Brittany shut her door softly and dropped to the ground beside her wife, wanting so badly to take her in her arms but knowing it wouldn't be well recieved. Instead she sighed heavily, noting how close they were to the train tracks.

"Should we move back?" she suggested softly, but Santana waved her off, wiping her face with her other hand.

"No, we'll be fine," Santana answered. "Trust me. The train passes on the tracks next to these anyway."

Brittany seemed to undestand the signifigance of her words from the heaviness in which she said them, face darkening as she crossed her legs, her knee bumping Santana's. She didn't bother moving it, and Santana didn't move away either.

The two sat there for a long time, neither saying a word. Santana couldn't even look at Brittany, and she sat with her eyes over flowing, hands in her lap limply.

"It's okay to hate me," Brittany said after awhile, her voice breaking. "I understand."

"I hate us both," Santana replied. She kept her eyes downward, but her back straightened as she said it. "I hate you, I hate myself... I can't stand this, Brittany. I can't." She shook her head, more tears falling as she sniffed. She looked up at Brittany and let out a ragged breath. "Did you ever think we'd end up like this?"

"No," Brittany said quickly. Her blue eyes were clouded with pain and guilt. "I never."

"How did we let it get this far?"

"I don't... In the end, didn't we... out of love? What I did, was for you... And what you did... That was for me. And Maya," Brittany's thoughts were halting, unable to articulate everything at once. Santana understood her though, slowly nodding.

"That doesn't make it okay," Santana said vehemently, drawing her knees up to her chest. "It doesn't change anything that happened. You still cheated. I still ignored everything until it was basically shoved in my face. We're still broken."

Brittany nodded, her own tears falling unchecked again.

"I know."

The words were simple, but for the first time, Santana felt like Brittany truly understood. It took two to get to this point, no matter who started it, no matter who had it worse or had hurt the other more. Here she was, completely ready to sit on some stupid train tracks, and she wasn't alone, not really. All the guilt, fear, and hurt she felt, Brittany felt it too, perhaps even worse. Remorse was a horrible thing to feel, and even worse to feel alone.

Santana shook, her eyes meeting Brittany's as her lip trembled and the first thought in her mind tumbling forth in a rush.

"Can't you just hold me?"

Wordlessly, Brittany pitched forward, enveloping Santana in her arms and burrying her face in the side of Santana's neck. Santana's arms flew around her waist, sobs barking forth from her throat as if she hadn't just spent the last hour crying on her own. She hadn't known it was possible to carry on like this, but when your heart broke, there must be no limit on the amount of tears you can cry.

Lost in their own sorrow and finally sharing in the other's, the pair lingered in each other's arms, not caring where they were or how long it lasted, needing to feel some sort of comfort in what was perhaps their darkest hour, both as a couple and as individuals. Being mad didn't matter right now, being right or wrong didn't matter. Knowing they weren't alone did.

"I'm sorry, I'm so, so, so sorry, Santana... I never wanted it to come to this, I never..." Brittany whispered, her lips brushing against Santana's collarbone's as she spoke.

"Don't say anything, not right now," Santana said quickly, clutching the blonde even closer. "Just don't say anything." She kept repeating the phrase until she was hoarse, until the heaving of Brittany's chest from her own sobs had subsided.

The blonde rubbed her face on her shoulder, wiping her tears away on the fabric of her jacket. She cleared her throat.

"Let's get out of here, okay?"

Santana nodded, and together they stood, dusting the dirt and dust from their jeans.

"I just want to fix it," Santana said in a low voice, taking Brittany's hand in her own lightly. She searched Brittany's face slowly, biting her lip.

"Can we?" the blonde replied, her question lilting up sharply.

"I don't know," Santana said with a sigh. "We can't undo it..."

"We can face it," Brittany said firmly. "We can face it together. And maybe we can..." Brittany stopped, her gaze dropping again. "I don't know either."

"Together then?" Santana suggested, holding her breath for the blonde's response. Everything still wasn't out in the open, and even without the rest of it, it was going to be hard enough, if not impossible. She wasn't sure she was strong enough for this, not sure if Brittany was either, at least not like this. Not alone.

Brittany nodded after a few moments, a small and still sad smile forming on her lips as she looked at her wife.

"Together."