First Bite

Sealed

Santana and Brittany hardly left each other's sight for the next week. Brittany had the brilliant idea to have groceries, including synthetic blood, delivered to her house, so they had no reason to leave. They made love and held each other in Brittany's bed all night, and in the root cellar all day, parting only when Brittany went to her classes and meetings.

When the weekend came, Santana was positively hazy, drunk off so much of Brittany's blood and love and attention. She was certain Brittany was the best thing that had ever happened to her, alive or dead. She would die a hundred times willingly if she knew that after those hundred deaths, she would get to spend a day with Brittany. Brittany was all the warmth of sunshine, the intimacy of night, the nourishment of food, and the satisfaction of sex. She was, at this point, essential to Santana's existence.

When the sun set while Brittany was at a chapter meeting, Santana lugged herself up the stairs and fell into Brittany's bed, loving how Brittany's scent mushroomed around her, enveloping her in calm and fueling her lust as it rocked her to sleep.

Whenever Santana slept in Brittany's bed, she had dreams. She never dreamt when she slept in the ground. It was strange to have dreams after fifty years. The first time she'd had a dream, she was convinced she and Brittany were really in a hot air balloon and it was daytime and they were happy, looking down at the houses below, deciding which one they wanted to live in. Her skin hadn't burned in the sun and she hadn't been afraid. Being in the light and air with Brittany felt normal and euphoric. When she had woken up, she was disappointed to discover it was just a dream, and she hadn't really seen Brittany's grin as they lifted off the grass in the basket in the light of day.

Tonight, she dreamt they were in the air again. Only this time, they were flying above a forest, holding hands.

"Look!" Brittany said, pointing down to some trees. "That's where I'm going to die!"

In the dream, Santana chilled, wishing they could stop flying and put their feet on the ground. But she was pulled along, powerless. All she could do was squeeze Brittany's hand and say, "No, Britt. You're not going to die." It didn't make sense, of course; if Brittany was mortal, she would eventually die a natural death, and if she were a vampire, she would have to die to be turned.

Brittany giggled, as though she were giddy at the prospect of dying.

"Of course I am, silly."

She was quiet for a moment as the wind swept over their bodies, the trees blurry below them as they soared. But what Brittany said next made Santana's body go rigid, even in her sleep.

"Quinn's going to do it."

Santana started screaming, thrashing around in Brittany's bed as though the sheets were trying to strangle her. She screamed so loud she woke herself up. When she opened her eyes, she was already sitting, having knocked a pillow off the bed.

Brittany stood in the doorway, eyes wide with alarm. She must have just walked in, because her backpack was still slung over her shoulder.

"Are you okay?" Brittany gasped, frozen.

Santana felt adrenaline stream through her muscles as she exhaled, relieved it was just a dream. She held her hands to her cheeks and took in the sight of Brittany standing in front of her, alive, human, and not at all excited about dying. The only emotion she could feel from Brittany was concern.

Santana was panting, chest heaving as she tried to sink back into the comfort of Brittany's bed. Brittany rushed to her side, murmuring comfort into her skin.

"Baby, what happened?" she asked.

Santana couldn't bear to tell Brittany what Brittany had said in her dream, so she swallowed, throat dry and sticky as her fingers found Brittany's pulse, taking comfort in its steady beating.