Disclaimer:I do not own Glee.
Author's Note: Review, please! I love constructive criticism
This is a collection of short one-shots. They all run along the same theme of children's game and all occur in the same universe, but they are not really connected; they can be read on their own without too much confusion
This is in BRITTANY'S MOTHER'S POV!
Summary: Mrs Pierce reflects on Brittany's and Santana's childhood and the things that the games always represented.
The Games They Play
Hide and Seek
When I played hide and seek with them, it was the only time Santana would ever be somewhere different to Brittany. Brittany was ridiculously creative when it came to hiding; sometimes it would take me almost an hour to find her, and others she would get bored of waiting and come to find me instead. Santana, on the other hand, was incredibly easy to find, because eventually I got to know where she hid; every single time, I would find her in a closet.
Sometimes it was Brittany's closet, sometimes it was mine. On occasion I would even find her crouched in the tiny bathroom storage closet. But no matter how many times we played this game, no matter how many times I found her in a closet and pulled her out, she would always run straight back in at the next opportunity.
There were a few times when, after I found her, Santana would pretend that she couldn't get out of the closet, that she couldn't find her own way out. This was a game of our own, really; she loved for me to pretend I was searching for her in the dark, cramped space, before I swooped down and lifted her away.
Eventually we stopped playing hide and seek, but that doesn't mean she came out of the closet. It took me a while to understand it, but suddenly it all made sense; where Brittany was confident in everything she was, fully aware that she would always be loved by everyone around her, Santana had never had that kind of security.
The night this realisation came to me, I cried myself to sleep. I wanted to protect Santana, make her feel safe and appreciated; but listening to the hushed whispers from my daughter's bedroom, I knew that Brittany was the only person able to give her that.
Instead, I had to wait patiently for Santana to find her own way out of the closet.
Don't forget this story yet! There is more to come, I promise.
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