Breaking Down & Coming Together

A story by B & H || Follow us on Tumblr - fatelaidahand - Santana || warmlikepeppermint - Brittany

Summary - AU || A journey through love & heartache. Lawyer!Santana MedicalExaminer!Brittany (Rizzles,Svu,Glee theme) At the end of the day when the world is clouded with darkness, I see you for who you really are. You break down and we come together, then and only then can we finally begin to see the light.

Authors Note: The bulk of this story takes place in present day. To understand the complicated yet beautiful relationship between the two girls, we first need to provide a bit of history. Any flashbacks will be denoted with a "timestamp" that will alert you to what setting you're currently reading.

Additional note - this story will be moved to a different account once stops being a dick, we'll keep you posted :)

Santana POV

(7 years earlier ... ) September 2005

I reluctantly made my way down to the cafeteria from my on-campus apartment. I was perfectly content hiding away in there for the next 3 years, but my stomach disagreed with me. I made a mental note to buy groceries after I had settled in; I didn't want to be in this situation again. The cafeteria would surely be overrun with people and I wasn't in the mood for making small talk. Everything was bigger here and it made me feel unsettled. The campus, the class rooms, even the student body was bigger. I wasn't talking quantity; I literally meant the people were actually bigger. Didn't anyone know the meaning of portion control? I scoffed as I passed by a group of overweight students pigging out on some pizza on a picnic table in the quad. I'm not quite sure if they heard me or not and frankly I didn't care. I was not skilled in the "making friends" department so I never really tried to socialize with people I didn't know. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't a loner or anything, I was just very selective with the people I allowed into my life; I had a right to be.

I grew up in foster care. My father was a terrible man to say the least; he raped and killed my mom the day of my 9th birthday and then a few weeks later the police found him, or what was left of him, burning in his car on the side of the highway. Great memory for a 9 year old, right? It never mattered; I learned at a very young age that the only person I needed in my life was me. I got my first job when I was 16 and hadn't stopped working since. I'd made my way through undergrad without anyone's help and I planned to live the remainder of my life the same way. I didn't need anyone to protect me. Actually, I needed to be the one doing the protecting. That's what brought me to Boston University. I only needed to survive a few more years here, then I could head out to New York or Los Angeles or somewhere that needed my help. I wanted to work with the attorneys in the Special Victims Unit and I wasn't going to settle for anything less.

The cafeteria, as I expected, was crawling with people. The vibrant humming of different conversations made my head spin. I headed over to the nearest counter and grabbed a pathetic looking salad before I spotted the coffee stand. Coffee, the one consistent thing in my life; it could make any day better.

Brittany's POV

I was exhausted. I knew that the EMSS program was going to be challenging, but add in a part time job to pay the bills and you had me…the walking zombie. Growing up, I had dreamed of being a dancer. My mom was a gorgeous dancer and even had a stint in the New York City Ballet; that was before her slipped disc and torn ACL. She loved to dance more than I did, but she always shuffled me away from doing it as a career. "Keep it as a hobby, Honey Bee," she'd say, "because once your body is tired, you won't have anything to fall back on." It made me sad to think she values so little of what she has to offer the world, besides dance.

Her incessant poking and prodding finally paid off. I gave up my dreams of being a dance major and wandered into the science field. I grew up the daughter of a surgeon, so the sciences had always intrigued me a little bit. I'm not great with people. Sure, I'm nice, but I can get overwhelmed easily and I tend to get frazzled. But science? It was a more solitary practice. It was something I could concentrate all of my attention on while still helping others in some way. So that was how I found myself here, a first year grad student at BU Medical School…serving up coffee.

I rubbed the heels of my hands over my eyes and willed the sleepiness to hold off for just one more hour. The end of my shift couldn't come soon enough. It was when I was standing at the register, my hands pressed to my eyes, that I heard the impatient tapping of a shoe against the linoleum floor. I sighed deeply, pulled my hands away, and leaned onto the counter, praying it would hold me up. I gave a lazy grin to the girl standing in front of me before reciting my mantra.

"Welcome to Java Joe's, what can I getcha?"

Santana POV

I stared at the girl behind the counter for longer than I had meant to. She was breathtakingly beautiful and I was instantly caught off guard. She had long, wavy blonde hair and the bluest eyes I had ever seen. As soon as I was aware of my inappropriate gawking I straightened up my posture and focused on the task at hand. Coffee.

"Columbian Blend, one sugar, no milk, extra strong," I demanded. She continued to lean on the counter and stare down at me with a goofy grin. Our unbroken eye contact made me feel uneasy and she just kept looking at me with that smile on her face. For a moment I thought maybe she didn't understand what I'd said.

"Did you not hear me or somethi-" I started.

"Will that be all for you?" She politely interrupted.

I nodded my head and watched her effortlessly skip away to make my drink. I looked around and noticed that she was the only one working. It didn't seem like she minded very much but still, it must be lonely spending the day at work with no one to talk to, other than customers barking orders at you. My train of thought was interrupted when she appeared again in my line of view. She handed me the coffee and smiled when I handed her a $10 bill.

"Keep the change," I said, returning her smile. I didn't know why I was being so nice to this girl or why I felt like she deserved my kindness, but I didn't want to give it too much thought. I quickly turned around and started to walk away before she could protest or question my kind gesture. I sighed softly and raised the cup to my lips, imagining a life where I could attend a lesbian college. I'd been attracted to girls for as long as I could remember; I'd also attended conservative schools for just as long. This didn't exactly help me in the relationship department, so over the years I had developed a tendency to shrug things off with girls I had an attraction to. This was another reason why I wanted to avoid making new friends here. I cringed at the thought of going through my "coming out" process all over again, especially to people I didn't give a fuck about. I was too old for that now.

As my thoughts wandered I took a sip of coffee and my brief moment of respite came to a screeching halt. The liquid swirled violently around my mouth and forced its way down my throat. I shuddered from the awful taste that I recognized in an instant; it was decaf. I turned on my heels and briskly walked back over to the blonde girl, slamming the cup down on the counter.

"Tell me that I'm imagining things and you did not just give me fucking decaf coffee." I hissed.

Brittany POV

My first thought was maybe I didn't speak the words out loud. Sometimes I do that. I'll be meaning to say something and the words never leave my lips, even though my mind is screaming at me to blurt them out. Other times I try to keep my thoughts to myself and they just come tumbling forward like little brain landslides. I maintained my stance on the counter as I watched the bronzed beauty stare back at me. Just as I was about to repeat my greeting, she barked her order at me as if I was the one taking forever to decide what I wanted. She was beautiful and extremely feminine, but she had the bite of a pitt bull and the tact of child. I couldn't help but observe her with a smile though, because I could see the light dimples in her cheeks and I've always been a sucker for dimples. Her irritation, however, became noticeable when her eyes turned a shade darker and the dimples disappeared. I snapped back to attention immediately.

"Columbian Blend, one sugar, no milk, extra strong," I repeated, turning away from her and shuffling over to one of the several coffee pots that lined the rear counter. Whatever happened to just coffee? Now there's decaf and sugar free and double shots and soy and just so many alternatives that make my head all fuzzy. I filled a travel cup nearly to the brim, added a sugar, stirred, stirred, stirred, and popped a top on it with practiced ease. I glided back to my waiting customer, slid the cup across the counter, and took the $10 bill she handed me. When she told me to keep the change my eyebrows disappeared into my hairline and a smile cracked across my face in shock. That was like a 200% tip. Before I could protest, she spun on her heel and strode off in the opposite direction. I was left holding a ragged bill in my hand, mumbling a soft "Thanks," that disappeared between us.

I rung up the coffee, made change from the $10 bill, and put the amount she left behind into the tip jar. Sure, it was meant for me, but sharing tips was part of the job and I'd feel mean just taking it all for myself. My mind was trapped somewhere between disbelief and exhaustion and I could feel myself losing touch with reality. I was starting to feel the blissful lightness of an impending daydream when a white cup came crashing down on the counter and a venomous voice lashed out at me.

My heart felt like a hummingbird mid-flight and my eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. The pitt bull was bearing its teeth and my insides were trembling in fear and embarrassment.

"I-I'm sorry.." I stuttered, completely thrown off guard by her upfront attack. I had been warned about mixing up the pots, especially decaf and regular, but I never thought it would cause this kind of reaction. I took the cup from her and repeated my apologies as if they were on a loop and the play button was stuck. I tossed the old drink out, fixed her a new cup, and handed it to her with trembling hands. Adrenaline was pumping through my system and I was feeling shaky on top of my sleepiness.

"Why the hell would I drink crap like that. I drink this for the buzz not the shitty taste." That was her only retort as I opened the register and pulled out the $10 she handed me earlier.

I slid the money across to her and gave her my most sincere smile.

"Super sorry for the mix up…It..It won't happen again. It's on the house," I stammered awkwardly before swallowing hard and tugging my bottom lip between my teeth. So much for that tip I inwardly sighed to myself.

Santana POV

I grabbed my crumpled money and the fresh coffee from the counter and stormed off. As I walked away, muttering about her incompetence, I was stung with an unfamiliar feeling. Guilt. I'm not exactly sure what made me glance back towards her, maybe it was because I finally registered the "kicked puppy" look that was on her face, or maybe not. I silently scolded myself for feeling this way. Just because she's gorgeous doesn't mean you treat her any differently Santana. You know girls here are off limits, I said to myself, trying to prevent my next move. It was no use.

I glanced back behind me and saw her melancholy expression. It was then that I lost control, like someone flicked a switch in my brain and I had no power over my words or actions. I turned towards her and walked back over to the counter slowly. Trying not to scare her, I placed the $10 bill back on the counter; she had her back facing me and was taping labels onto the coffee pots.

"I'm so stupid, I can't believe I have to use these dumb labels again," she muttered to herself quietly.

I heard the self loathing in her voice and recognized it instantly. I used the same tone when I scolded myself for making a mistake. I smiled briefly at the thought of having something in common with the beautiful girl. My smile soon faded though when I realized that I was making her feel incompetent. I peered down at the sign next to the register, it read: Your friendly service provided by Brittany. It had hearts and smiley faces drawn around the edges and I had a sneaking suspicion that she was behind it. I cleared my throat trying to get her attention.

"You're not stupid Brittany," I said, inadvertently startling her. "It was a mistake and it could happen to anyone. I'm just having a bad day, and I shouldn't have been a bitch to you." I smiled softly and moved the money across the counter, closer to her, catching a quick glance of her elated expression before walking away.

I was fighting with my brain at this point. What the hell is this bullshit and what have you done with Santana Lopez? Go back over there and take your money back. You don't let people walk all over you. I ignored the voice inside my head and grinned shyly to myself. It felt nice seeing Brittany's smile again, and it felt nice knowing I probably helped make her day better. I don't know what it was about that girl, but I liked her. I would even go as far as saying maybe one day we could possibly, maybe, be friends.

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