A/N: Little AU one-shot. Kinda dark. Maybe creepy. I don't know. Inspiration came from a random Law & Order episode. The title is a reference to the song Through Glass by Stone Sour. Very fitting lyrics. Check them out.

She moved in about six months ago. She lives in the apartment just above mine and I often hear her music filtering down through the ceiling.

At the beginning, things were normal. Sometimes I'd pass her on my way to collect the mail. She always smiled politely. Occasionally she'd even offer me a brief greeting or a wave. Her eyes are the bluest I've ever seen. They're like staring into the cool, clear water of some tropical ocean.

Hypnotizing... beautiful...

It wasn't until a few months ago that I found myself going out of my way to watch her, to run into her 'accidentally'.

I never leave my apartment. After I got out of prison, I found a job that allowed me to work from home. Some internet gig. Tech support. I didn't go to college... but I was always good with computer stuff. It was easy and it payed the bills. But mostly it kept me out of trouble... let me avoid human contact as much as possible... It's a simple, lonely life.

It beats the hole by a long shot.

I didn't grow up in the best part of town... or with the best parents. The crowd I ran with were less than desirable. And when I got arrested for pushing meth, nobody was surprised. It wasn't like it was the first time they'd seen me in cuffs. Nobody expected me to do anything with my life. Nobody cared.

The judge however, wasn't nearly as flippant. He said that a few years in jail might help me to straighten out, get a second chance.

It only took a week before some wannabe tough-girls tried to start a fight. And I never back down. Never. A shiv in the showers and two of them ended up in the infirmary, the third without the use of her legs.

I don't regret it. I was only doing what I needed to survive. I was never going to become someone's bitch.

The time in solitary did something to me though. An entire year of no voices, no faces, no acknowledgement. It was like being dead while you're still breathing.

And when the torture was over, I was so far inside of myself that I just stopped speaking. I haven't said a word since I got out... and that's the way I like it.

So when the blonde upstairs made my stomach jump and my heart pound with just one look, something changed. She was the only thing that made me feel alive... The only colour amongst all of the grey and black.

And I became instantly addicted.

First, I would take extra trips to the lobby to check my mail. Three, sometimes four times a day. Just hoping for one of those smiles or a glimpse of her eyes. Anything to get that shot of adrenaline to my chest.

Then, I'd look out the window, keep a close eye on the front entrance of the building, desperate for a flash of golden hair. Sometimes I sat there all day. Staring. Waiting.

And when that wasn't enough, I started to linger by her apartment window on my way up the fire escape. I liked to sit on the roof most nights. It cleared my head.

She didn't notice me crouched there, trying to catch sight of her through the thick curtains. She especially didn't notice when I watched her undress for the shower... or the few times I caught her taking someone into her bedroom.

Even through the tiniest gap in the material, I saw everything. The shimmer of sweat on her creamy skin, the way her back arched with pleasure, the knot in her brow as she drew closer to release... I couldn't look away.

She was perfection.

And only when I climbed the rest of the stairs and sat right on the edge of the roof, dangling my legs over the side just to feel that intoxicating kick of fear in my gut, did I feel the slightest bit guilty. The cool wind whipping at my face and muting the sounds of traffic below ripped me out of sweet fantasy and threw me back into the real world.

How I hated it.

It was a Friday night when it happened. As soon as I heard her door close, loud and fast, I left my computer and scrambled out the window to the fire escape. It had become a nightly ritual now.

Her curtains weren't as drawn this time. The gap was much bigger and I had to kneel down and huddle to the side just so she wouldn't see me.

She strolled into her bedroom like normal, tearing at her work clothes and making my pulse hammer wildly. The sight never failed to leave me breathless.

When she was unclasping her bra, she turned around to throw it on the bed and her eyes caught mine. There was no question that she'd seen me. Blue immediately widened and her lips parted in shock. I tried to scurry up the stairs, knowing I had no way of explaining myself and no possible answers for her questions.

I couldn't even remember what my own voice sounded like.

But she was at the window faster than I could react. She held a pillow up to her bare chest and threw open the glass.

"What the hell do you think you're doing out here?" She asked, her voice firm and her gaze dark and unwavering.

I opened my mouth and shook my head. Even if I was capable of speech, there was nothing I could say.

"You were watching me. I saw you." She insisted. The volume of her words was more than intimidating.

I looked down at my feet as the sound of my heartbeat in my ears and the painful burn on my cheeks took over all of my senses.

"Well? Aren't you going to at least apologize? I should call the cops on you right now you know." She demanded, clearly becoming impatient.

At the mention of police my blood froze. I wasn't going back there. I would rather die than end up in the hole again. I lifted my face and pleaded with my eyes, shaking my head again as desperately as I could manage. I pointed up and then gestured towards the stairs to try and convey my innocence.

All I could hope was that this beautiful, captivating woman would somehow take pity on me.

She frowned. "I've seen you before. I know that you live in the apartment just below me... Why have you been watching me?"

I swallowed hard and tried to look anywhere but at her face.

"Can't you talk or something?" She sighed in annoyance.

I bit at my lower lip and hunched over miserably. It was at least half true. It had been so long since I tried to speak, I wasn't sure if I even could anymore.

"Mute or not... you can't just go around looking into people's windows."

I nodded quickly, finally feeling my moment to escape, and ran back down the stairs to my apartment.

That night, I seriously considered going to the hospital. I was so sure I was going to have a heart attack with the way my pulse wouldn't slow or find a steady rhythm.

I could never abandon her. I could never just stop. I knew that already... I was much too far gone.

But it certainly looked like I was going to have to be much more careful in the future.

I stopped watching her during the day, finding it much easier to conceal myself in the cover of night. I still visited her window. But now I made sure to always wear dark colours, to always stay just out of sight.

And it worked. We continued on like we had before. She even kept giving me smiles when we ran into each other at the mail boxes. Although, they were much less friendly and a lot more sympathetic and cautious.

She seemed suspicious of me. But it was still better than being ignored completely... like everybody else in my life. I had no friends. No family. I was no-one.

Even after she caught me invading her privacy, she was still the one person in the world that seemed to acknowledge my existence at all.

I made my familiar journey up towards her bedroom window, hunched over with a practiced grace by the sill. She often made sure to keep her curtains fully closed after she caught me... but every now and then I would get lucky. I only needed a sliver.

And tonight was a good night.

She was lying on her bed watching television. She looked stunning, even in just a pair of sweats and a baggy t-shirt. How I wished to touch her, hold her, kiss her soft, pink lips...

I can still remember so clearly the look in her eyes when I had seen her with someone else. I wanted to be the cause of that look. I wanted to make her breathe heavy. I wanted to make her smile with lazy satisfaction.

It occurred to me briefly that she hadn't brought anyone into her bedroom for at least a few months. I wondered if she was lonely like I was. Was her job getting in the way? A girl that beautiful and sweet wouldn't have trouble getting anyone she wanted, of that I was sure.

I flinched when I saw her slide her hand down into her sweats and my breath caught when she closed her eyes, lips drawing apart.

My gaze flickered to the television screen. It wasn't raunchy. Just a generic sitcom. She must have been lost in her thoughts.

When I looked back over to the other side of the room, she wasn't on the bed anymore. I panicked for a moment. How had she moved that fast? Where did she go?

But then the curtains flew apart roughly and I fell backwards in surprise, my head slamming hard into the metal platform.

The window screeched open and her furious eyes found mine. "What the fuck do you want from me? Why won't you just leave me alone?"

I felt myself shaking. The pain in the back of my head was agonizing but the throb in my chest was even worse. I knew what I was doing was wrong. Why couldn't I stop myself?

I scrambled to my feet as fast as I could manage... but I stumbled when darkness began to consume my vision. I shook my head at her apologetically and tried again. I could feel tears of frustration starting to prickle and build when I ended up on my ass.

She rolled her eyes. "Are you alright?"

I nodded and decided it would probably be best to crawl back down to my window.

With my hand on the second step, I felt something touch my shoulder. I almost fell down the rest of the way I was so unprepared. She pulled me back and helped me to stand, leading me through the window and into her apartment.

"Come on." She sighed heavily. "Even if you are acting creepy as hell... I still don't want you to fall down the fire escape and die."

I kept my eyes on the floor as she pushed me towards the living room and sat me down on the sofa.

"Wait here... and don't touch anything." I could feel her eyes, scolding me like a child. Her footsteps crossed the room and I heard the crunching of ice.

She returned and handed me a towel filled with it. "You hit your head didn't you?"

I nodded slowly and raised the ice to the back of my head. I cringed at the sting when it made contact, pulling it unconsciously back to my face to examine a dark red smudge tainting the blue cotton.

She noticed. "You're bleeding."

I waved my hand at her dismissively but didn't look up.

"Let me see." She moved behind the sofa and I felt her fingertips brushing at the hair on the back of my head.

I cowered under her delicate touch. It felt like fire. It was too much. Too real. Too intense. Again, she didn't miss it.

"I'm not going to hurt you." She sighed and I could almost hear the mixture of irritation and uncertainty in her voice. "It doesn't look that bad..." She finally concluded, coming back to stand at my side. "Are you dizzy?"

I returned the cold pack to my cut, shook my head vehemently and realized that I definitely was dizzy. But I wasn't going to tell her that. I was in no place to hang around. I had put the poor girl through enough and she was being so sweet with me... even though I was basically stalking her... It made my heart and my stomach hurt to even be in her presence.

I stood from the couch and thought about handing over the towel. But I figured she probably wouldn't want it back all covered in my blood. I risked a glance at her eyes, doing my best to show gratitude and remorse, before hurrying over to her door.

My fingers gripped the handle and began to twist.

"What's wrong with you?" She asked, her voice soft and not at all accusing. "I mean..." I heard her take a few steps closer to me. "Why can't you talk?"

I released the doorknob and turned around slowly. Her eyes were questioning and I suddenly felt naked.

"Can you really not speak or... do you just chose not to?" She moved even closer.

Why wasn't she mad at me anymore? Why wasn't she scared?

I opened my mouth a few times but nothing came out.

"If you wanted to get to know me, you could have just said hello." She shrugged and shook her head at me, confused. "It's not like I would have blown you off or anything."

I let go of a shaky breath, my cheeks burning from the intensity of her stare.

"I don't like it when you watch me. It makes my stomach all weird... and now I'm always paranoid about having the curtains open." She explained simply. "I like to look out at the city. It's a nice view. Shouldn't I be allowed to see it?"

I nodded and spun around to leave once again. I didn't know why she was talking to me about this. I wasn't an idiot. I understood what I was doing was insane and perverted. She didn't have to make me feel even worse about it.

"Wait..." She grabbed my arm and I thought I might pass out. "Can you just... say something?" Her eyes were narrowed. She was trying so hard to figure me out.

I gulped inaudibly and looked down at my feet.

"I don't think you're a bad person..." She said quietly.

I chewed on my bottom lip and glanced up at her through a few strands of long, dark hair.

She smiled back at me gently and I thought I would melt right there on her floorboards.

"Please?" She whispered.

I felt like all the shapes and lines were bleeding into each other. Her face was the only clear thing in my vision. I'll never know whether it was the concussion or her kindness... or whether I was just finally ready after all those months spent in silence, but I heard something escape my throat that sounded almost like a voice.

"Sorry." I croaked.

It was so foreign and distant that I wondered for a second if it was just in my head.

But then her lips twitched and she smiled again, wider this time.

"What's your name?"

"S... Santana."

It was quiet. Barely loud enough to be considered real speech. But she heard it. Her eyes softened into something like sadness.

"Santana... I'm Brittany." She reached out and offered her hand to me.

I stared at it but couldn't quite get myself to move. Long moments passed, and she waited patiently until I eventually lifted my palm to hers.

"Santana... If we become friends... Will you stop sitting outside my window?"

I nodded.

"Okay... Good." She let out a heavy, relieved breath and beamed.

From that day on, things began to change. Brittany would stop me when we passed in the lobby. She told me about her day. She started inviting me up to her apartment to order pizza or watch a movie.

She became the closest thing I'd had to a friend in years. Maybe ever. And even though I still barely spoke more than a word or two when we were together, she didn't seem to mind. Her eyes remained caring and gentle. Her conversations were always light and friendly.

She didn't push me. She didn't judge me. And I could barely believe that anyone so sweet and understanding even existed in this fucked up world.

I was sure that any other girl... any other person... would be furious at the thought of someone spying on them, creeping outside their window every night... at the very least, scared. And although Brittany seemed that way at first, it was almost as if she could see past all of my walls, straight through to the desperate, lost excuse for a human that I was.

I was almost ready to believe that I wasn't just some broken shadow anymore... That maybe I was capable of emotion... of sanity... of living.

And for that I had fallen hopelessly in love with her.

Love. It isn't a word I thought I'd ever use to describe myself. But now, looking into her sparkling blue eyes as she offers me a soda, I know that's exactly what this is. I've never been so sure about anything in my life.

I shift over on the sofa so she can sit beside me. There's some horrible reality show playing in the background but I barely notice it as the smell of her bubblegum body wash invades my senses.

"Do you want some?" She mumbles through a mouthful of popcorn, holding the bowl over to me.

I shake my head with a small grin. I seem to be doing that a lot more lately. Grinning. It feels odd... but also welcome.

"You still haven't told me what you do for a living..." She muses. Her eyes are fixed on the television as she shovels another handful into her mouth.

I know it's not a question. She says things like that all the time without ever expecting me to respond. I figure she wants to know more about me. After all, she talks about her job, her family, her interests... All I've said is 'Sorry', 'Thank you' and 'Goodnight'. It's a lopsided arrangement. And I feel guilty for being this withdrawn. But it's just second nature to me now.

The voices have almost completely stopped. Especially when I'm with Brittany. The screaming in my head that used to consume every waking moment has dulled significantly. It hasn't been this quiet in ages.

But speaking still feels sort of pointless. I know I'll have to get over it eventually. If I plan on becoming 'an active member of society' again that is... I'm just grateful that my new friend is a very patient soul.

I take a deep breath and try to choke down some of the nerves in my throat.

"Brittany."

It's the first time I've said her name and her head snaps over to me, eyes wide like I've just announced that I have an incurable disease.

"Yeah?" Her voice is shaky. It makes my heart clench.

I can only assume that she knows just how captivated I am by her. Even without the obvious window-gazing, I don't make any effort to hide my rapt stares or the loud, sharp intake of breath whenever she accidentally grazes my body in passing. And even though I can appreciate that our newfound friendship is most likely based on her pity, I don't smother the tiny spark of hope I carry that my feelings may somehow be returned.

Why would she want me? What would she ever see in a reclusive, damaged, unstable individual like myself? I have no fucking idea. But she keeps asking me here for a reason. She keeps dragging this hermit from her shell, giggling and smiling with her eyes so bright and warm.

Maybe that mercy has grown into something deeper. Maybe she feels that connection when our eyes meet, the undeniable pull that has me drowning in my own heartbeat.

I won't know unless I try.

I start to lift a hand but I only make it halfway to her face before I draw it back in fear. Touching others is still something foreign and intense to me. I'm almost afraid to taint her beauty.

But she gives me a reassuring smile and takes my hand in her own, holding it against the heat of her lightly freckled cheek.

"I'm sorry." I melt into her touch. I don't need to explain what I'm apologizing for. Her face softens and she nods.

"I know."

"You're..." I bite my lip and look down at my lap. "Perfect."

She snorts but continues to hold my palm to her cheek. "I'm not perfect Santana. I know you think that I'm some wonderful person but-"

"Be mine." I whisper, lips trembling as I meet her stare.

She frowns taking my hand between both of hers and lowering it to the sofa between us. "Santana..."

"I know I don't deserve you." I sigh. I can't remember the last time I put together so many words. The sound of my voice remains grating and strange. "But I need you."

Her eyes narrow, strained with thought.

I don't want to wait for her to reject me... And I know it's coming. So I gather all of the courage I have left in my heart and lean over, capturing her lips in a feather-light kiss.

I wait for her to protest. She doesn't.

When I scoot closer and place both hands on her face, I expect her to push me away. She doesn't.

I open my mouth wider and press my tongue to her lips. And when she allows me to deepen the kiss and wraps her arms around my shoulders, I know that I'm lost.

The kisses become frantic. She groans into my hair when I bite down on her neck. I feel my skin burn when she tugs off my t-shirt.

"Santana..." She whispers into my ear, hot and breathy.

For the first time in years, my thoughts are completely silent. I act on instinct. I am alive. I am safe. I am whole.

Our clothes disappear fast and when I feel her inside of me, tears begin to trickle down my face.

"Be mine." I ask again, my lips ghosting over the skin of her collarbone and my hand between her thighs.

She whimpers and nods when I push into her.

It's messy and rushed and we both tumble over the edge before we can even think about how it started.

And while I'm lying on top of her on the sofa, skin clammy, nerves dampened, struggling for breath... I feel her heartbeat, loud and steady, against my chest.

"I love you."

Half of me hopes that she heard the muffled whisper, the other half says it really doesn't matter. I am human again.

I have a chance. I have a reason to go on.

No more staring through windows. No more looking in on something that I can never have. I'm part of reality again. I'm surrounded by something more than my own thoughts and fears.

I belong here.

To everyone reading Shades of Blue, I know I should be updating that now instead lol but I just had this idea and ran with it. New chapter coming along soon though.