Sooo...not my best fic ever, but I needed to get it out quick or my feelings would have crushed me and I would be a twitching mass of fangirl goo on the floor. Title from Braille by Regina Spektor.
'Blowing Out Wishes, Blowing Out Dreams'
The sound of the phone ringing wasn't something Will Schuester particularly liked to wake up to. Phone calls in the middle of the night always lead to something bad. The last time someone had called in the middle of the night it was a student who thought she was in love with him; the time before that had been his father telling him that Will's grandmother had passed away.
When a look to the alarm clock on the nightstand flashed a time of 2:30am, Will groaned and flopped one arm over his face. He wanted to ignore the phone and slip back into dreams of Holly singing Journey with him at his high school nationals. The continued shrill ringing of his cellphone told him that the dreaming was going to have to wait for another time.
After a few sightless attempts at grabbing the phone, Will finally managed to get a hold of it without having to get up. The brightness of the screen was almost blinding and made it hard to see the tiny black numbers of the incoming caller, but he knew from what he could make out that it was not a number he knew.
"Hello," he sounded surprisingly awake for how groggy his body felt.
Shuffling noise came over the line.
"Hello?" Will tried again.
"Mr. Schue, can you come pick me up?"
"Santana?" Will was definitely awake now. He bolted into a sitting position and readjusted the phone so that he would be able to hear better. "Are you okay?"
"Can you just come get me, please?" There was a quality in her voice that Will had never heard before and he couldn't quite make out what it was.
"Where are you?"
It was after 3am when Will pulled into the parking lot of a rundown motel on the edge of town. Santana had hung up immediately after telling him where she was and the number to her room. Will had tried redialing the number once he was dressed and heading out the door, but the latina girl had not picked up.
This wasn't something Will had ever expected to happen. When he had given out his number he had thought that maybe he would get a call from Finn or Puckerman after having one too many at a football part, or calls from Rachel with set list ideas. He never would have thought that Santana of all people would call him. Santana who held her head high above everyone else, who verbally lashed at everyone except for Brittany on a regular basis.
Santana, who apparently didn't have anyone else to call for help in the middle of the night.
Will got out of his car and stepped into the chilled night air. There was only one other car in the parking lot, close to the office and probably belonging to the desk clerk. The flickering red of the 'm' on the sign that said 'Motel' cast a soft glow over the building that Will used to see the metal numbers attached to the doors.
A million thoughts were going through Will's head as he walked down the row of doors until he reached room number three. Should he call Santana's parents? What if something terrible had happened and Santana was injured? Even the thought of calling Holly briefly flashed through his head.
The dingy metal number three stared back at him from its place on the wooden door. Will could see lights peaking out from behind the curtains on the window, it looked like this was the only occupied room. Will banged his fist insistently on the door, ignoring his body's flinching reaction to the stark sound against the quiet of the night.
No one answered the door, and after a few seconds Will knocked again. When there was still no answer the concern bubbling inside of Will overflowed, and he twisted the doorknob. When it opened he sent a thousand silent prayers to whoever was listening.
The room was tiny and brightly lit. Will's eyes did a once over of the room, taking in the empty beer cans littering the floor, the condom wrapper by the side of the bed, and the rumpled state of the sheets. There was a body laying on top of the rumpled blankets on the double bed, and even though she wasn't facing him, Will knew it was Santana.
"Santana," Will forced his voice to come out firm. He left the door open behind him as he approached the bed.
Will walked around the bed to stand between it and the wall that Santana was facing. She didn't answer when he called out to her, and when Will saw it was because she was asleep he let out a sigh of relief.
Santana looked a mess. Her clothes were rumpled and her hair looked like a birds nest on one side. Both her arms were wrapped around herself and she had her cellphone loosely clutched in one hand. Will could see the dried tear tracks on her face and the puffiness in her eyes. Any of the disappointment that Will had felt when he saw the situation of the room was immediately dashed away by Santana's face.
Getting down onto his knees by the mattress so that he would be at eye level with Santana, Will put his hand on her shoulder and gently shook. He repeated her name twice, louder the second time. Her eyes peeled upon slowly and Will watched with sympathy as confusion and then realization crossed over her face before her expression hardened completely.
"Mr. Schue, what are you doing here?" If Santana had been trying to come across as her usual harsh self then she failed the moment her voice cracked; a testament to how hard she must have been crying.
"You called me to come pick you up, do you remember?" Will's eyes softened as he watched Santana struggle to push herself up. She put a hand to her head as if to ward off a headache and looked around.
"No, but as long as you're here I could use a lift out of this dump." If she was ashamed about her surroundings she didn't let it show to him.
"Are you okay?" Those probably should have been the first words out of Will's mouth, but they had gotten a bit lost in the shuffle.
Santana tried to stand and her body wobbled. There were quite a few empty cans on the floor, if the girl had consumed even half of them then she was probably still feeling the effects. Will offered a hand to her, but she stubbornly refused it.
"I'm just peachy. Obviously I had a great night, unlike you who obviously went home to your vest collection." Santana stared disdainfully at the vest that Will currently had on.
"Santana," Will tried to keep the scolding out of his tone. Santana had always insulted people to keep negative attention off of herself. "Do you want to talk about this?"
"Did I ask to talk when I called? 'Cause I'm pretty sure I would remember something like that."
She was still on the bed and this time when Will reached out his hand he didn't give her the chance to refuse. With his grip on her upper arm, he gently pulled her up until she was standing. She wobbled a moment and ended up leaning slightly against him to keep her balance.
"Come on, let's get you home. Your parents must be worried."
A scoff was the only reply Will got. Normally Will wouldn't have left a rented room in such a state, but being courteous to the motel wasn't at the top of his list at the moment. It took a few minutes to walk Santana out to his car and into the passenger seat. When he was sure she was situated he ran inside the office and dropped the key to the room on the desk without even looking at the person operating it.
When Will slid into the driver's seat and started the car, Santana didn't even look at him. Once again, she had her arms wrapped around herself and Will turned up the heater in case she was cold. He knew where she lived from the Glee roster. Lima Heights was only a twenty or so minute drive from where they were now.
Will pulled out of the parking lot, leaving it empty of customers once more. He knew he had to try and talk to her, but he was no good with people like Santana. It was so much easier with someone like Finn who was similar to himself, or even Rachel who was so open about everything. With Santana it would be a lot harder.
"How did you get out here?" Will tried to start with a simple question.
"Seriously, Schue? Maybe Sylvester is right about all that hair gel damaging your brain. How do you think I got out there?" The rhetorical question hung in the air and even with his eyes on the road Will get feel the glare leveled at the side of his head.
"I'm just trying to help, Santana. When I get a call from a student in a motel in the middle of the night I get a bit concerned."
"Well no one asked you to be concerned," Santana snapped at him.
"What is going on with you Santana? This past few weeks you've been letting things get to you. Normally you just let everything roll off of your shoulders."
"Oh God, you're not going to ask me to sing my feelings are you? I think I've done enough of that for one week." Santana's eye roll could practically be heard in her words.
"The song you sang with Brittany and Ms. Holiday was beautiful, Santana."
"Yeah, and it just made everything rainbows and puppies." Sarcasm dripped from every word, and Will got a sudden mental image of it pooling in her blood and poisoning her; he definitely needed more sleep.
"Are you acting out like this because of Brittany?" Will let the words slip past his mouth and mentally cursed himself for it afterward. So much for being subtle.
"I'm not 'acting out'" Santana made quotation marks with her hands. "Sorry to burst your happy little bubble where teenagers go home to Mommy and Daddy and do their homework and go to bed on time, but this isn't that different from any other night except that I didn't have a ride home."
"Maybe you should talk to someone. You might say its not any different, but you're still just a kid, Santana. You shouldn't feel like you have to go out and drink and have...adult relations on a regular basis to be happy."
"There's nothing wrong with having a little fun," her voice trailed off a bit on the end.
For a moment, the only sound in the car was the warm air blasting from the vents and the click of the blinker as they waited for the stoplight to turn color. Will looked at Santana. She was so tensed up that Will was surprised her body wasn't shaking from the strain. But he heard it in her voice, that little bit of give and he knew he couldn't give up.
"Are you having fun, Santana? Whoever this guy was, he didn't even respect you enough to make sure you were okay and take you home. What if something were to happen to you? A lot of people would be really upset."
"Like who?" The reply came so quickly and harshly that Will almost flinched. Just two words but in them Will could hear so much self hate and skepticism that it hurt. No one Santana's age should ever have those kind of feelings.
"Everyone in glee cares about you, Santana. And I'm sure you have a lot of friends from being in the Cheerios for so long."
"Everyone in glee hates me, Schue. Or do you not remember their little gang up a couple of weeks ago? And Sylvester won't let any of the Cheerios talk to us after we quit the team. No one wants any one to do with me anymore except for guys. Guys like me, and it makes me feel good, so yeah I have fun."
Pity was the first feeling that washed over Will, determination was the second. They were only a couple of blocks from Santana's house at this point, but he pulled over on the side of the road anyways. He left the card running, but undid his seat belt so that he could turn to look at his student properly.
"Santana, you are worth so much more than that. You are a talented, strong young woman, you don't have to base your self worth off of sexual encounters." Will stared hard into her eyes as he spoke. Each word chipped away at her mask a little more and as he finished small tears were running down Santana's cheeks.
"Brittany is the only person who ever liked me for anything other than my body and even she doesn't even want me." Santana's words came out strangled and guttural.
It all clicked then. Will was so stupid sometimes, of course this was about Brittany. Their performance with Holly in glee club made so much more sense now as did the fact that Santana and Brittany hadn't interacted since. Will had seen them linking pinkies and giggling together in the club before, but he had no idea that there was anything to it other than an extremely close friendship.
So that song had basically been Santana confessing her feelings to Brittany, but Brittany was still sitting and smiling away with Artie in the club while Santana secluded herself. If Santana was so accustomed to only the physical aspect of relationships, then being turned down by Brittany after finally opening up had probably crushed her.
"Brittany cares about you a lot Santana, anyone can see that."
"Not enough to want to be with me."
Will put a comforting hand on Santana's shoulder as she sobbed in the passenger seat and amazingly she didn't shrug it off. Will was in over his head on this one, he had no idea what to do. How was it that helping Finn when he thought he was going to be a dad was easier than comforting a teenage girl?
The crying stopped, eventually fading away into spasms of harsh, sputtering breathes ripping from Santana's lungs. It was almost four in the morning, Will knew neither of them would be getting any more sleep before school later today, but he still needed to get Santana home. It only took a couple of minutes to drive down the street to Santana's house.
"Santana," Will spoke to get her attention before she left the car. "I think it would be really good for you to go talk to Ms. Pillsbury today, okay?"
"...I don't think that's gonna happen. She could help me about as much as I could help her with her hand sanitizer addiction."
"Is there anyone you can talk to?"
Santana seemed to hesitate before answering, but eventually she came up with a name.
"Ms. Holiday... but she isn't even here anymore."
"I'll see what I can do," Will answered, and Santana looked at him with knowing eyes. "But until then, I want you to know you can call me if you need to. Brittany isn't the only one who cares about you, Santana."
Will didn't pull away from the house until Santana was safely inside. As he drove back to his apartment he wondered what time would be reasonable to call Holly, and if there was an assignment they had time to do in glee club about raising self esteem.
If Santana appeared back to normal in class tomorrow, Will would still know. He'd always been so concerned with just a few of his students problems that he'd never noticed the little cracks forming in the club and its members.
He would be a better instructor, for Santana and the entire New Directions. And if Santana called him again, he would know how to help her.
At 4:23am, Santana Lopez crawled into her bed still wearing yesterday's clothes. No one had noticed her coming in. Her buzz was finally wearing off and her head was beginning to pound from all the crying she had done. Her heart hurt, her head heart, her throat hurt, but for the first time in a long time Santana wanted to believe in something.
She wanted to believe that Schuester was right, that she was worth more than her body. But most of all Santana wanted to believe that Brittany still cared about her.
Santana wanted to believe that she and Brittany would be together and everything really would be puppies and rainbows.
Three hours later, before first period, Mr. Schuester pulled Santana aside in the hallway. He didn't say anything, just handed her a slip of paper and smiled at her before walking away.
'Holly Holiday 555-2184'
END