A/N: Okay, so I wrote this like… four months ago. Someone (I can't remember who because all my messages got deleted) prompted this when I wanted angst prompts to better my writing. I believe her prompt was a one-shot to go with the song "Someone Like You" by Adele. It was so long ago, and she said she'd be willing to beta it. I sent it to her, but unfortunately, I never heard back. So, I decided just to post it. I really really hope you like it because I worked really hard on it. I just wanted to point out that I love Brittana, but I wrote this after Santana continuously rejected Brittany. And, I know you're gonna find who I paired Brittany with a little… weird. But, I don't know, it spoke to me :D Anyway, I really really hope you like it. Constructive criticism only please! I want to know what you think.

I heard that you're settled down,

That you found a girl and you're married now,

I heard that your dreams came true,

Guess she gave you things I didn't give to you

Santana stared at the wastebasket, burning a hole in it with her eyes. The return address read Brittany S. Pierce, in a fancy white envelope. The card read "You are Cordially Invited to..."

She couldn't read anymore after that.

It was clear, what the card held. A wedding invitation. Brittany's wedding invitation. She couldn't believe that Brittany, her Brittany was getting married. The Brittany who had spent the majority of their last two years of high school completely in love with her. But, Santana just couldn't open up to who she truly was. She just couldn't face what would inevitably come. And by the time she could? Brittany was off dancing in New York and Santana was studying to become a lawyer at Stanford, and they hadn't even spoken in two years.

By that time? It was too late.

Clearly Brittany's moved on by now. She's getting married.Eight years after all that they once had. It's good that she's managed to get over it. Santana hasn't.

She wonders who Brittany is marrying. She hopes it's not a woman. She's not sure she could handle that. Probably someone tall, a tall man with a large build, and brown hair. Santana bets he dotes on Brittany like a father to a child, patronizing her, treating her as if she's a baby, something Santana never did.

She's curious, but she can't bring herself to look at the invitation.

Old friend, why are you so shy?

Ain't like you to hold back or hide from the light.

She never does look at the invitation. She doesn't call and RSVP. It would be a no, anyway. She just leaves it lying there, at the bottom of her wastebasket, never touched.

She never gets a call. From Brittany or Mr. Something calling to see if she's attending. She guesses deep down, Brittany doesn't really want her there either. She can understand why.

But that hurts more than it should.

I hate to turn up out of the blue uninvited,

But I couldn't stay away, I couldn't fight it,

I had hoped you'd see my face,

And that you'd be reminded that for me it isn't over

It isn't over.

It can't be. Realistically, Santana knows, Brittany was married nine monthsago. They haven't spoken in eight years. She's sure that she and Mr. Something are living a nice, blissful life right now.

But, she can't... She can't just leave things open-ended. Realistically, she knows. Knows that Brittany doesn't want her anymore. That she's happy. But, that's way deep down. Buried under her self-assurance that Brittany loves her, only her, and will always. She needs to see her.

She picks up the phone and dials the number that she hasn't dialed in so long, but still knows by heart.

"Yeah?" A gruff voice answers the phone and she can't help but smile at the greeting, because it's just so him.

"Puckerman! My man! How's it hanging?" There's a moment of silence and she knows that after so long, it's weird of her to just pretend like everything's fine, but that's what she does best. Pretend.

"Well if it isn't Santana Fucking Lopez. Nice of you to finally grace me with a call after eight damn years."

"Yeah, I know, I know. You've gotta lot of shit to give me, and I'll take all of it later, but this is kind of urgent. Do you know Brittany's address? New York, right?"

"Well, duh Lopez." Santana smiles when she realizes he's not gonna continue on with his usual topic. She can always count on Puck to give her what she needs. "You're the only member of New Directions that didn't keep in touch. Besides, Rachel's my bro. And really, if she weren't taken-"

Santana sighs, annoyed. "Puck, you need to stop smoking so much pot and repair your brain cells. I said Brittany, not Rachel. Give me Britt's address."

There's a pause. Then his voice rings out, hesitant. "Santana, you know that Rachel-"

She cuts him off. "Listen, I don't have time for this. Just give me the address."

He does. She hurriedly scribbles it out on a piece of paper and thanks him.

"Santana," he starts, "there's something you should know."

She says bye and hangs up quickly. She doesn't have time for this. She has to win her girl back.

Never mind, I'll find someone like you,

I wish nothing but the best for you, too.

Two days later, she's in New York, in front of Britt's house. She came straight off the plane so she does not look her best. She's wearing a Stanford sweatshirt with sweatpants and her glasses because she didn't bring extra contacts. Her hair's all knotty and her teeth are unbrushed, and she doesn't have a stitch of makeup on. But she can't bring herself to care because this is more important than how she looks.

She sits in a taxi for forty minutes, the meter running up high, before she works up the courage to go to the door. She spends another fifteen before she actually rings the doorbell. She hears the soft patter of footsteps approaching and she holds her breath. This is it. This is the moment. She's finally going to see Brittany after eight, almost nine years.

The door swings open, and there she is. Face to face.

...with Rachel Berry. A very pregnant Rachel Berry.

Don't forget me, I beg,

I remember you said,

"Sometimes it lasts in love,

But sometimes it hurts instead,"

"Rachel?" She questions. She's pissed. Dumbfuck Puck gave her the wrong address. Seriously, how could he just mix the two up? What a fucking idiot.

"Santana!" Rachel says with a bright smile. "It's so good to see you!"

"Uh, yeah. It's good to see you too. But, I think I have the wrong address so I'm just gonna-"

"You're here to see Brittany, correct?" Rachel says with a dazzling smile. "Oh, who am I kidding? Of course you're here to see Brittany, why else would you be here?"

Santana stops short. "Brittany?" she questions.

"Oh yes, right. She's just inside. Would you like me to go get her?" She says brightly.

"Brittany's...here?" Santana says slowly, trying to comprehend.

"Why, yes, of course." Rachel says, equally confused by Santana. "I'll admit, we were upset that you couldn't make it to the wedding, but you're here now! And that more than compensates."

"Wedding?" Santana asks, starting to understand, but trying hard not to.

Sometimes it lasts in love,

But sometimes it hurts instead, yeah.

"Yes, didn't you get the invitation?" Rachel asks, worried.

"Your wedding?"

"Yes..."

"Brittany's wedding?" Santana questions, through clenched teeth.

"Yes. Santana, are you all right? Do you need a drink of water or something?"

"But, you- you're pregnant!" Santana exclaims, trying to cling to some false hope that she's misunderstanding, that this isn't real.

"Oh, yes." Rachel says with a smile, resting her hands on her swollen stomach. "Seven months now. Sperm donor, of course. Britt and I agreed that if I carry this one, I get to name her. She has to carry the next one, though."

"You... you're having a baby!" Santana struggles out, clutching the metal porch railing for support.

"Santana, are you sure you're okay?" Rachel steps closer.

And then, it all becomes real.

"Baby, who is it?" Santana hears her voice, and closes her eyes tight, not sure she's ready to see her yet. Curiosity wins out though, and she opens her eyes to find Brittany standing behind Rachel with her hand on her shoulder.

And she's beautiful.She's wearing an off the shoulder long black dress, her blonde hair curled at the egdes. Her blue eyes are outlined in kohl, and even after all these years, she is absolutely breathtaking.

"Santana." She says, startled.

"Brittany." Santana chokes out.

Rachel looks at Brittany, then Santana, then back to Brittany again.

"I-I'll leave you two alone." She says. Santana's heart hurts when she notices the squeeze Brittany gives to Rachel's hand as she walks away.

You know how the time flies,

Only yesterday was the time of our lives,

We were born and raised in a summer haze,

Bound by the surprise of our glory days.

Brittany fumbles for words. "Santana, hi. It's uh... it's great to see you. What are you here for?"

"You married Berry?" Santana questions incredulously.

Brittany crosses her arms over her chest and her gaze hardens.

"It's Pierce now, actually."

Hearing that, it's like a stab to Santana's gut. She had put the pieces together, obviously, but hearing it from Brittany, was something else entirely. She lets out a strangled gasp and struggles to catch her breath.

Brittany watches this, and she softens.

"Listen, S, I'm-"

"I can't believe you married Manhands." Santana spits out with venom.

"Don't talk about her that way!" Brittany snaps. Her voice is fierce, protective. Santana guesses that Mr. Something, no, Rachel doesn't dote on her like a little kid. This Brittany can definitely take care of herself.

"Just... when? When did you two start-" She can't get the words out. "What happened to us?"

Brittany laughs, but it's not the little giggle she used to give whenever Santana used to make a joke. It's cold and sharp.

"Us? Santana, there is no us."

I hate to turn up out of the blue uninvited,

But I couldn't stay away, I couldn't fight it,

I had hoped you'd see my face,

And that you'd be reminded that for me it isn't over.

There's a pregnant pause as Santana struggles to respond to Brittany's cold rejection, but then she speaks again.

"Why are you here, Santana? You got the invitation. You knew I was married. What were you expecting to happen?"

"I... I don't know." Santana hesitates. "I just... I thought that if you just- If I just came here, and- and you saw me you'd-"

"What?You thought that I'd see your face and just forget about whomever I was married too? Run off with you and have sweet lady kisses and live happily ever after? Still as conceited as ever, aren't you?" She scoffs at Santana's shocked face. "Oh, don't act so surprised, Santana. You don't marry Rachel and not pick up a few things. I've changed. I know words now."

Santana stands, shocked by the venom in her voice. "But, Brittany.I-"

"Don't play the victim, Santana! Don't act like I'mthe one that didn't want this. Like I'mthe one who rejected you over and over. Like I'mthe one who couldn't come to terms with who I really was. That was all you, Santana. Every time you did that? You broke me. Crushed me into tiny, tiny pieces. And Rachel," Santana notices the way she says Rachel, as if it holds all the best letters in the alphabet, "she put me back together. Every time."

Santana stands there, stunned. She didn't realize she hurt Brittany. That much.

"Santana, I'm not that same girl anymore. I'm not the same girl who gets confused by breakfast, and can be easily manipulated." She lets out a breath. "I'm not going to lie. I love you. I love you, and I probably always will love you, I just... I love her more. You broke me, and she put me back together. Stronger than before."

Nothing compares,

No worries or cares,

Regrets and mistakes, they're memories made,

Who would have known how bittersweet this would taste?

"But, B." Santana says, desperate.

"No, San. It's over between us. It has been for a long time now."

Santana nods, trying not to cry. And suddenly, Rachel appears behind Brittany, suddenly dressed in a royal blue dress, that's tight over her chest, and then flows out gracefully over stomach.

"I'm really sorry to interrupt, but uh, we really need to get going." She says, hesitant.

Brittany smiles. "Oh, yeah!" She says enthusiastically. She turns to Santana, suddenly cheerful, any bitterness from two minutes ago, gone, looking much like the Brittany that Santana used to know. "Rachel was nominated for a Tony. The awards are tonight!"

Rachel blushes, and shakes her head. "She tells everybody! She even flagged down the mailman this morning."

Brittany smiles and presses a wet kiss to Rachel's cheek, then throws an arm around her shoulders.

"I can't help it. I'm proud of my baby."

The looks they are giving each other are just so... adoring, that Santana can't even be mad at Rachel. Clearly, they love each other. She feels as though she's intruding on a private moment.

Never mind, I'll find someone like you,

I wish nothing but the best for you,

Don't forget me, I beg,

I remember you said,

"Sometimes it lasts in love,

But sometimes it hurts instead,"

"Rach, what are you forgetting?" Brittany sing-songs out.

"Oh! My purse!" Rachel says, rushing back into the house.

Brittany laughs, and turns toward Santana. "She'd forget her own head, if it wasn't attached. Pregnancy has made her... disorganized."

Santana nods, and swallows thickly. "Right." There's an awkward silence, before she breaks the silence. "So I'm just gonna..." She points towards the street, and Brittany nods.

She walks away, thinking of what a waste of time this whole trip was, then turns back once more.

"Hey, Brit, don't forget me, alright?" She calls out, vulnerable.

Brittany smiles, big and radiant. "Never."

Nevermind, I'll find someone like you,

I wish nothing but the best for you, too,

Don't forget me, I beg,

I remember you said,

"Sometimes it lasts in love,

But sometimes it hurts instead."

Santana doesn't forget Brittany. Not even close. She spends her time hooking up with girls who have blonde hair, blue eyes, and absent-minded smiles, trying to replace her. It works for now. But it's not a substitute.

It never will be.

Sometimes it lasts in love,

But sometimes it hurts instead.

A/N: I really hope you liked it! Feedback por favor?