Fic: Z-Day - Chapter 5: Hollywood Hills
Title: Z-Day (Chapter 5: Hollywood Hills)
Pairing: Santana Lopez/Brittany Pierce
Rating: R
Summary: Santana and Brittany face the unthinkable -- and the inevitable -- in post-apocalyptic Zombieland.
Word Count: ~750
Disclaimer: Still don't own Zombieland or Glee.
“I need you to do this for me,” she said. “Like… a present. Pretend you’re giving me a present.”
I just shook my head, trying so fucking hard not to cry, but I could feel my face screwing up.
“Don’t cry,” she said tenderly, running her fingers through my hair. I knew it scared her when I cried, and I wanted desperately to stop, wiping my cheeks violently, but I just ended up sobbing into my forearm and collapsing against her.
*
“You’re a little bit scary right now,” Brittany said as I pulled the trigger again and giggled like a maniac.
“Oh, come on,” I said, letting another round loose from our position on a third-floor balcony at the Standard. A zombie below us, who’d been scouring the trash like a raccoon, reeled with the blowback of the bullets and left his arm and a good chunk of his shoulder on the pavement.
“Did you have to do that?”
I rolled my eyes. “Fine.” And with a shot to the head and a final screech, the creature dropped in the middle of Sunset Boulevard. I couldn’t help but smile a little. Fucker was seriously dead now. “Happy now?”
She shrugged. “I know you like to let off steam, but I’m a little worried about you.”
I rested my gun against the railing. “At least… we finally get to see Hollywood, right?”
I’d realized this was Brittany’s dream the summer before kindergarten. I was at the beach with my mom, and the little blonde girl and her slightly older brother were swimming circles around me in the water, just staring at me, but not saying anything. That afternoon, I found her a little ways down the beach and kicked over the stupid mounds of sand she was building next to her brother’s more traditional sand castle, getting sand in her eyes, and she cried because I’d knocked over the Hollywood Hills and now all the stars would be homeless. I didn’t understand why she thought stars would be living in hills, but she explained that they were famous people, not the kind that lived in the sky. And because she was sniffling and my mom was glaring at me, I helped her build the dumb hills back up again. I helped her make new Hollywood Hills every day for the rest of the summer.
Brittany leaned her head on my shoulder and stared at the empty lot across the street, but I could tell that wasn’t what she was actually seeing. “When do we get to go to the mountains?”
“You want to drive through the Hills?” I said. “We can see where all the celebrities live. Lived.”
“No. I mean the cold mountains. Where we’ll be safe and have a garden and a little Eskimo puppy.”
I’m pretty sure my heart broke then, which she never would have known if my voice didn’t crack when I tried to respond. “Right now if you want, babe.”
She nodded and kissed my neck. “I do.”
*
I leaned up so I could press my forehead against hers. We stood like that for I don’t know how long, just breathing each other. I tilted my jaw forward slightly to capture her lips, but she pulled back.
“San, don’t.”
“Trust me,” I said.
“I’m not dumb,” she said. “I know what you’re doing.”
“Please, B,” I said, my voice breaking. “Don’t you trust me?”
She nodded, but pulled away when I tried again. “I trust you, but I don’t think you’re making good choices right now. It’s like you’re drunk on sad.”
“What?”
“Like, you’re not drunk on tequila, you’re drunk on sad.”
I choked out a laugh that spilled fresh tears down my cheeks. This time I didn’t try to kiss her, just wrapped her in a tight hug and pressed my face into her chest. “Only you,” I said. “You get… you’re… and you can still make me laugh.”
“This is it, right?” she said. And then, in a rare moment of articulate clarity: “Crying would be a terrible way to end something so beautiful.”
Which, of course, made me cry even harder.
Pairing: Santana Lopez/Brittany Pierce
Rating: R
Summary: Santana and Brittany face the unthinkable -- and the inevitable -- in post-apocalyptic Zombieland.
Word Count: ~750
Disclaimer: Still don't own Zombieland or Glee.
“I need you to do this for me,” she said. “Like… a present. Pretend you’re giving me a present.”
I just shook my head, trying so fucking hard not to cry, but I could feel my face screwing up.
“Don’t cry,” she said tenderly, running her fingers through my hair. I knew it scared her when I cried, and I wanted desperately to stop, wiping my cheeks violently, but I just ended up sobbing into my forearm and collapsing against her.
*
“You’re a little bit scary right now,” Brittany said as I pulled the trigger again and giggled like a maniac.
“Oh, come on,” I said, letting another round loose from our position on a third-floor balcony at the Standard. A zombie below us, who’d been scouring the trash like a raccoon, reeled with the blowback of the bullets and left his arm and a good chunk of his shoulder on the pavement.
“Did you have to do that?”
I rolled my eyes. “Fine.” And with a shot to the head and a final screech, the creature dropped in the middle of Sunset Boulevard. I couldn’t help but smile a little. Fucker was seriously dead now. “Happy now?”
She shrugged. “I know you like to let off steam, but I’m a little worried about you.”
I rested my gun against the railing. “At least… we finally get to see Hollywood, right?”
I’d realized this was Brittany’s dream the summer before kindergarten. I was at the beach with my mom, and the little blonde girl and her slightly older brother were swimming circles around me in the water, just staring at me, but not saying anything. That afternoon, I found her a little ways down the beach and kicked over the stupid mounds of sand she was building next to her brother’s more traditional sand castle, getting sand in her eyes, and she cried because I’d knocked over the Hollywood Hills and now all the stars would be homeless. I didn’t understand why she thought stars would be living in hills, but she explained that they were famous people, not the kind that lived in the sky. And because she was sniffling and my mom was glaring at me, I helped her build the dumb hills back up again. I helped her make new Hollywood Hills every day for the rest of the summer.
Brittany leaned her head on my shoulder and stared at the empty lot across the street, but I could tell that wasn’t what she was actually seeing. “When do we get to go to the mountains?”
“You want to drive through the Hills?” I said. “We can see where all the celebrities live. Lived.”
“No. I mean the cold mountains. Where we’ll be safe and have a garden and a little Eskimo puppy.”
I’m pretty sure my heart broke then, which she never would have known if my voice didn’t crack when I tried to respond. “Right now if you want, babe.”
She nodded and kissed my neck. “I do.”
*
I leaned up so I could press my forehead against hers. We stood like that for I don’t know how long, just breathing each other. I tilted my jaw forward slightly to capture her lips, but she pulled back.
“San, don’t.”
“Trust me,” I said.
“I’m not dumb,” she said. “I know what you’re doing.”
“Please, B,” I said, my voice breaking. “Don’t you trust me?”
She nodded, but pulled away when I tried again. “I trust you, but I don’t think you’re making good choices right now. It’s like you’re drunk on sad.”
“What?”
“Like, you’re not drunk on tequila, you’re drunk on sad.”
I choked out a laugh that spilled fresh tears down my cheeks. This time I didn’t try to kiss her, just wrapped her in a tight hug and pressed my face into her chest. “Only you,” I said. “You get… you’re… and you can still make me laugh.”
“This is it, right?” she said. And then, in a rare moment of articulate clarity: “Crying would be a terrible way to end something so beautiful.”
Which, of course, made me cry even harder.