Title: Sleep Your Troubles Away. (1/2)
Fandom: Glee
Characters: Brittany(POV) & Santana
Spoilers: Set Before The Break-Up (4x4)
Author: Kate (JustHoldingOn)
Description: The disappointment you feel doesn't seem to lessen with every night she doesn't call, the more you come to expect it the more it hurts, and lately it hurts more then you thought it ever could.
Brittany:
It's 12:30am and your eyes are getting so heavy. You think maybe she's not going to call tonight. Again. The disappointment you feel doesn't seem to lessen with every night she doesn't call, the more you come to expect it the more it hurts, and lately it hurts more then you thought it ever could. You squeeze your eyes shut and wait for the escape that is sleep. It's been a long day.
Its 1:47am when your phone that you're still clutching tightly beeps loudly bringing you groggily out of your dreams. You would be annoyed because you have school in the morning and you have enough trouble staying focused in classes when you've had a good night's sleep but when you look at the message you can't help but jump up and smile.
[Hey Britt. Are You Awake? Can I ring?]
Deciding you need some air you grab a jacket quietly exiting your bedroom and running down the stairs into the kitchen and out the back door. You sit on the bottom step by the porch and let your bare feet sink into the dampness of the grass. You let out a deep breath as you look at the message again just to make sure it's still there and wasn't all just a dream. You flick your phone to silent so it's ring wont wake anyone else up. It's 2:03am when you reply.
[Yes. Definitely.]
Staring at your phone intently you wait for the call. The seconds turn into minutes and your gaze never leaves the phones screen as a mixture of excitement and nervousness start to bubble up inside. Its ten minutes later when the doubt starts to seep in. Maybe she's fallen asleep. It is really late. Maybe you took too long to reply.
It's 2:30am when the doubt wins. You throw your phone into your lap and bring your hands to your face, holding your palms against your eyes. A sob escapes and you curse yourself for getting your hopes up. Why didn't you reply as soon as you read the message? Why is it so hard to get the simple things right? Maybe everyone is right about you...
Artie's words from earlier in the week echo around your head. 'Your brain exists in this magical other dimension where anything is possible.'
Yeah sure you would have no problem if you were from another dimension. That would actually be kind of cool. The problem is you live here in this dimension. More specifically Lima. If you've learnt one thing in the last three years, its being different in Ohio is probably the last thing anyone wants. Sometimes you think the smartest thing you ever did was to stop talking. The more you seem to speak now the more different from everyone else you feel, like maybe you just don't belong.
Unfortunately you are stuck here. "Stupid. Stupid. Stupid."
It's 2:59am when your phone starts vibrating on your lap. You jump up in surprise knocking it onto the ground. Scrambling you frantically grab it answering it before you've even checked the caller id. You bring the phone to your ear as you kneel on the ground, the moisture in the grass soaking through your pants.
"Hello?"
It's 3am when you finally hear her voice. It's like magic. Her voice, even if it's only a single word, can make you feel so much relief. It feels like forever since you last talked. Sure you both text each other every day but that's not the same as hearing her voice, like Skype isn't anything like being in the same room together.
"Santana?"
"Brittany?"
"Yeah."
"I'm so sorry Britt. Cheer practice ran late again and I closed my eyes for a second and I must have fallen asleep..."
"It's okay." You cut her off because you know it's not her fault for being busy or tired. She's in college now. She doesn't need to apologise to you for that.
"How are you Britt?"
You stand up slowly looking down at the front of your pants that are now a shade darker and completely wet from the knees down. It's then when you realise how cold you are as a shiver runs through your body. You walk back up the few steps onto the porch and move to one of the big wooden chairs in the corner. You grab the blanket that rests on the back of the chair and wrap it around yourself as you sit down. She doesn't rush you for a reply; you can hear her breathing lightly into the phone as she patiently waits for an answer.
"I'm good San. Schools still complicated but Will and Emma are tutoring me now and Sam has been helping me out too so my grades are getting better I think. Also I'm pretty sure Lord Tubbington joined a gang but don't worry I'm planning an intervention and I have high hopes that soon he'll be back on the right track." You try to sound as lighthearted as possible but there is still a wobble in your voice from the tears you shed earlier.
"Pshhhhhhhh... Lord T would be a badass gangsta. He may know how to get into a whole lot of trouble but he always comes back to you, he knows you've got his back... and I'm really glad you're doing better in school Britt-Britt."
You let out a quiet "thanks" along with a sad laugh before asking her the same question, "How are you?"
The questions you ask each other now always seem so standard. You've both always been so comfortable with each other but with the distance there is this newness to this communication thing. Keeping up a conversation is different when it's over the phone and you are both so far away from each other.
"I'm going okay. Busy. I've got so much school work and when I'm not studying there's cheerleading..." she lets out a breathless laugh and you can imagine her shaking her head as she tells you about cheerleading and her coach, "... I didn't think there could be a coach as crazy as Sue, maybe they're related..." she pauses for a moment pondering the idea like it only just occurred to her, "... you know that would actually make a lot of sense."
"You shouldn't say things like that Santana," you gasp. "The fact there is one Sue Sylvester out there is scary enough. I'm probably going to have nightmares for weeks now you know..." you tell her using your most serious tone, "... millions and millions of Sue clones chasing me down the city streets with their megaphones yelling confusing insults whilst demanding perfect cheers and ideas on how to destroy Will Schuesters hair gel supply."
You hear her attempt an apology through light laughter that she is failing at trying to suppress. It makes you smile because you know she is smiling and knowing you can still make her happy even when you are so far away makes you feel so good because honestly making Santana happy is probably your favourite and most important thing to do.
"I have a feeling that this may be nearly as bad a that time all my dreams consisted of Glee Club and Rachel Berry singing..." you tell her gravely, "... no matter if I was awake or asleep, it was like Rachel and that voice of hers was everywhere."
"Oh no. I am so sorry." You hear her whisper in a horrified voice all traces of laughter gone.
"There is only one way to fix this." You state referencing the two weeks in Sophomore year, not long after joining Glee Club, when you made her sing you to sleep every night. Even the nights you had to stay at you own houses she would make sure to ring you and the last thing you would hear before you fell asleep was her voice.
You think maybe there is nothing better than falling asleep and waking up in her arms, with her voice the first and last thing you hear, it's most definitely how you love to start and finish your days. And dreams of Santana are definitely much preferred over any other dreams.
"Oh really!?" You hear her laugh out again before her voice goes so very soft as she finishes with, "Anything for you Britt-Britt"
"I'm going to hold you to that you know."
"I don't even doubt that. I am coming home the weekend after this one to do my washing. I promise every night I am home I will be yours."
"You will be all mine? I like that promise." You tell her as you smile just at the thought of her being home with you for an entire weekend, but you are pretty sure they have washing machines in Louisville so you can't help but ask, "Washing?"
"Yeah I have so much washing. I really shouldn't have left it this long. I think I may actually run out of things to wear."
"I have absolutely no problem with that." You don't miss the fact that she kind of ignored your question but you know sometimes she has her reasons and pushing her doesn't always end in the best of outcomes so you let it go. Also the thought of a naked Santana is slightly distracting, it has been awhile.
"Of course you wouldn't. But I am pretty sure you would prefer me to not show up to classes naked though?" She asks playfully like it's a valid question.
You play it straight. "Definitely not! Just so we are clear, the hotness that is you naked is for my eyes only."
"Same goes for you," she states copying your tone to a tee.
"Agreed. No one is getting naked until you are home."
You wish you could see her right now. You miss her so much and you don't think your imagination can give any justice at all to how cute she probably looks right now as she giggles into the phone.
It takes you both a few minutes to stop laughing at each other and for a moment you both just sit in this comfortable silence as you quietly listen to each other, which is kind of weird if you think about it because neither of you are really making any sound but for some reason you would be totally happy sitting here like this for the rest of the night. You guess just knowing she is there is all you really need.
"So am I still talking to President Pierce? Did you kick some bow tie wearing warbler butt?"
It's probably number one on your list of 'Things I Really Don't Want To Talk About' and you were really hoping she wouldn't mention it but you guess you should know by now that things are never that easy. You hesitate slightly before you answer quietly with a simple... "No I didn't win."
There is a pause before she asks, "You didn't?" She sounds like you've just told her something that doesn't make any sense, like you not winning ever even crossed her mind as a possibility of happening. You can imagine her scrunching her face in confusion as she tries to understand.
"No." You whisper not even sure she hears your reply. You bring your knees up to your chest and wrap the blanket tighter around yourself. You let out a shaky breath as you look up towards the sky trying so very hard to hold in the tears that are threatening to fall. "There was a internet poll. Ninety percent of the students who were coming to see the debate between Blaine, Sam, Artie and I basically only were showing up to hear me say something stupid."
Just thinking about that word, what it means and what people really think already hurts so much. Having to explain it all to Santana is another world of hurt. You hear movement on the other end of the phone like maybe she's gotten up and is pacing. You can tell just by the silence and her breathing getting slightly louder that she is already angry and is trying really hard to calm down.
"What happened?" Her voice is tense and you know she's trying so hard not to show how angry she really is. You can only hope that she doesn't get too angry at you and your answer.
"I gave them what they wanted." You shrug like it's not a big deal even though you know she can't see you.
The other end of the line stays silent, you can't even hear her breathing anymore which your not sure is a good or bad thing, so you continue nervously trying to explain what happened, "I was standing there on stage listening to Blaine talk and I was dressed like a hot version of Artie minus the robot extras holding these notes with what I was supposed to say and I realised I wasn't really Brittany anymore and I like being Brittany soooooo..." Your voice trails off. You're not sure how to finish but you don't want to start rambling. You want to make sure she knows everything is okay, that you are okay. "I've already been Senior President once. It's not that big of a deal."
"Brittany..."
"It's fine." Your voice breaks as you finish.
You really don't want to talk about this.
"It's not fine Brittany. When I come back to Lima ninety percent of students better watch themselves or they are going to find out what the 'Wrath of Snix' is all about."
The way she says your name in such a comforting way and how all her anger seems to be directed at everyone but you surprises you. It also annoys you because you want her to be mad at you, you're not even sure why. You just need her to be mad at you.
"You're not mad at me?"
"What?! No... No of course not. Why would I be mad at you?"
"Because I lost!" It comes out louder and angrier then you mean it to and as soon as the words leave your mouth you feel like everything in you cracks slightly as a tear runs down your cheek.
You bring your chin down to rest on your knees as you continue to hug them tightly.
"I'm not mad at you." She says it so softly and with so much honesty, in a voice that you know is for you and will only ever be for you. You think maybe that voice is what love sounds like. You let out a sob and bury you face into your knees trying so hard to hide the fact you are crying.
"Remember last year and your run for Presidency?" She barely pauses, not really expecting you to answer, before she continues, "You weren't afraid or ashamed to know about unicorns. You wanted people to understand but you also didn't let it get to you if they didn't 'get it'... you were proud of being a unicorn. And you should never stop being proud. I don't want your horn to fall off Britt-Britt. You are my one and only. There is no one like you. You don't need to change for anyone ever, okay?"
She's waiting for you to agree, to echo her okay but you can't. It isn't that simple. Everything is so much more complicated then you thought and no matter how hard you try you can't find the correct answers that will make everything okay again. You feel this constant overwhelming feeling that you're going to fail no matter what and every day that feeling gets bigger and bigger.
"You just don't get it," you breathe out in frustration.
"Please Britt..." You can hear her voice wavering. You can almost feel your sadness become her sadness. It makes it all hurt even more knowing you're hurting her and you want to make it stop, go back to pretending everything is okay, but you can't.
"Artie was talking about policies and all these things he wanted to do to make a difference, sure I almost fell asleep multiple times during his speech but he was always just being Artie. And Sam took off his shirt and owned his abs and stripper past with zero shame. Then Blaine stands up and defends his hair gel and points out everything I did wrong last year as president, telling everyone how I was probably going to burn books and then people which I totally wouldn't do because I'm not a Nazi or I don't think I am... but he kind of made sense." It comes out all in a rush and not exactly how you wanted to say it at all and you pull the blanket up and over your head as you try and bury yourself further into it like maybe it will protect you.
"You are totally not a Nazi."
"Are you sure?"
"One hundred percent sure Britt Britt."
"Because I have the blue eyes and the blonde hair thing going on you know?!"
"Pretty sure you having a Latina girlfriend puts you in the clear on the Nazi thing."
"Oh yeah." You say lightly in faux realisation as you hear her laugh into the phone.
It's nice to be able to break the tension a little bit but the laughter doesn't last as long as you would like it to as it trails off and she asks in a curious but hesitant voice, "How did he kind of make sense?"
You want it to make sense.
You want her to understand.
"I was the only person on that stage that was pretending to be something I will never be. Last year I wasn't a good president. I won on false promises. Prom was really my only success. Even that was tainted with me banning hair gel. Basically telling Blaine he needed to change to fit in. I made this whole deal of people being unicorns and how it's a good thing and I kind of turned out to be a hypocrite. I stood on that stage and I knew how it felt. I understood what Blaine was saying and it didn't feel good at all. Yeah I really wanted to win but telling people I love them just the way they are and that they don't need to change for any reason just seemed more important. And Sam and Blaine are going to be great so... yeah I am upset I didn't win but it's also okay. I'm okay."
You really hope she understands.
Even with distance you can hear her thinking. And you know in this moment of silence before she says anything she is carefully trying to choose the right words. Words that will make it better. Right now in this moment with everything you are feeling you don't think she is going to be able to find those words.
You should know better.
Her voice sounds so very determined as she tells you, "If you were to embrace all the awesomeness that you are... you would have won."
For a moment it feels like your heart has stopped as your mind rewinds and you go back to a place when those words meant everything. You can't believe she remembered.
"Who told you that?" You ask her timidly.
"Someone really smart."
"They must be a genius!"
She doesn't seem to notice the sarcasm in your voice (or she chooses to ignore it), replying with a quiet, "Smartest person I know."
As soon as you hear the honesty in those words everything suddenly feels lighter, and if only for a moment all the broken and missing pieces seem to come back together and you feel whole again. The cracks are still there but right now they don't seem to run as deep or feel as unfixable as you had been convinced they were.
Maybe Santana is the glue keeping you together, helping to make sure you don't lose too many pieces. You smile at that thought and remind yourself to never forget, 'My superglue'.
There is a moments pause before Santana asks while attempting to hide the hint of worry in her voice, "Britt? You are okay aren't you?"
"I'm fine San..." you tell her knowing it's what she needs to hear, "Really I'm fine."
"I love you Brittany Susan Pierce." She says in such a quiet voice you almost miss it.
A tear falls down your cheek as you lean back in the chair and look out into the backyard. You notice how the darkness of the night has slowly disappeared as the sun begins to rise in front of you. If only she was here by your side and able to see how magical it all looks in the quietness before the world wakes up.
You wish you could pause this moment.
"It's nearly time to wake up..."
Santana sighs out sadly into the phone before replying in a low voice, words that you instantly know you were not meant to hear, "Maybe I don't want to."
Its 6:43am when you finally hang up the phone after quiet goodbyes and promises of weekends and washing are arranged. You stand up slowly unwrapping the blanket from around yourself. Folding it up and resting it on the arm of the old wooden chair. You shiver as the coldness of the morning seeps into your skin.
It's 6:55am when the coldness wins and forces you to go inside. To a world minus the one person you so desperately wish could be there. Your mom looks up at you from the kitchen bench she is leaning over as she sips coffee and reads the newspaper as you walk into the kitchen. "How is Santana?" She asks with a kind smile.
"She's good. Busy though."
You are not sure if she can tell that you have been crying. You think maybe the slight waver in your voice and the puffiness of your eyes has given away the tears that have been shed throughout the night. She stands up leaving her coffee and newspaper behind as she walks over to you, wrapping you up in her arms and holding you tightly.
You grasp onto her not wanting to let go of the comfort and warmth the embrace gives you. She doesn't let go keeping the hug firm and supportive. As you both stand there in the middle of the kitchen she lets out a quiet sigh of defeat before leaning in whispering, "I think you're getting sick. Just to be safe I think you should take the morning off."
You hold onto your mom for a little while longer before slowly pulling away echoing her words with a grateful smile and a slight nod, "Just to be safe".
She knowingly smiles mouthing a "Goodnight" in your direction before returning back to her coffee and newspaper as you turn towards the stairs leading up to your bedroom.
It's 7:10am when you finally crawl into bed. You stare up at the ceiling watching the patterns the morning sun creates as it peeks through the closed curtains. The conversation between you and Santana swirls around your head. Like a recording that doesn't have a pause button. The feeling that you are forgetting something nags at you and refuses to let you find the sleep you so desperately need.
Then it hits you. The words you forgot to say. The ones that she should already know but sometimes still needs to be reminded of.
You pick up your phone and send off one last text before closing your eyes and falling into a deep sleep filled with dreams of adventure and other dimensions where she is always by your side no matter what.