This is just a little Christmas angst I threw together tonight, it's not my best work. Please feel free to point out spelling or grammar mistakes, I didn't have time to proof read after I wrote it. Hope everyone's had a wonderful Christmas! :)
'When Christmas Day is here, the most wonderful day of the year'
Santana thought back to when the glee club sang that song last Christmas, she remembered exactly how she had felt, stood in the choir room, merrily hanging decorations on their Christmas tree, surrounding by the people she mutually loved and cared about. It was one of those memories she looked back on and smiled at, because she knew that right there, in that moment, she was happy.
She couldn't quite say the same for herself now, in fact, quite the opposite, she was slumped on the bathroom floor, in front of the toilet, tears dripping down her cheeks, on Christmas Day, how pathetic was that? She hadn't wanted to end up in this position, not today, she had promised herself that she wouldn't, but things had just gotten so stressful and overwhelming that she didn't have any other options left.
Santana had always enjoyed Christmas, she had many fond memories of her childhood self pulling crackers, and ripping open huge presents, scattering mess all over the floor, but this year it was all different. Her abuela stayed with them for a while over Christmas, and she would let Santana stay up late with her in the guest room, wrapping presents and nibbling on Christmas cookies, it was their tradition, but this year there was an ice cold atmosphere between the two. Ever since Santana had come out to her grandmother, she had barely spoken a word to her, and every time their eyes met, Santana would receive a cold, heartless stare.
Ignoring the hostility she received was an impossible task, especially over the hot Christmas dinner her mother had insisted they all sit down together for, and every time Santana looked at, or even thought about her abuela, she became overcome with a sense of worthlessness. It tore her apart inside that the one person she had always respected and looked up to wanted nothing more to do with her, just because of a stupid thing like who she happened to be in love with. Santana told herself over and over again that she didn't need her grandmother's acceptance, or even affection or love, and that Brittany's unconditional adoration of her was enough, but she still craved it, and it hurt to be rejected by someone that was meant to always be there and take care of her.
Her abuela didn't say much to her over Christmas, even to insult her, or to tell her for what must have been the hundredth time that she was a disgrace to her family, she wouldn't have dared to, not when Santana's father was there, for she knew that Mr Lopez loved his daughter far too much to have that sort of thing said to her, he would have sent her packing in an instant if he would have heard. But then, right in the middle of Christmas dinner, Santana's father was called to an emergency at the hospital, and as much as he hated to leave in the middle of a family celebration, it was his job, so he ran out to his car, kissing Santana and her mother briskly on the cheek as he left. Santana sighed silently, she knew that with her dad gone the insults would start flowing, her mother would never stop them, she didn't care enough.
Less than two minutes after he had left, Santana heard the bitter tone of her grandmother's voice pierce the air;
"I don't know how you can sit there like that and pretend you're allowed to celebrate with us. Christmas is about celebrating Jesus' birth, and let me tell you, I don't think he would be accepting of your new… lifestyle. Homosexuality is one of the greatest sins."
For the first time in weeks, Santana looked properly at her abuela, right into her eyes, holding on to a glimmer of hope that she would be able to see the woman she once knew, the one that took care of her and practically raised her when her father was too busy with work, and her mother too occupied with booze, but staring back at her she only saw cruel hate. Hate for her, she realised.
She couldn't take it anymore, she really couldn't, trying desperately to hold back her tears, Santana stood up and silently left the room, leaving her barely touched plate of Christmas dinner on the table. Tears started slipping down her cheeks as she ran up the stairs, then to her bedroom, but instead of collapsing on her bed and sobbing, as she had planned to, Santana ran straight through the room and into her private bathroom, slamming and locking the door behind her. Shaking slightly, and still crying, Santana lifted the toilet seat and leant forward in front of it, not even bothering to tie her hair back out of the way, she placed one hand on her stomach and pushed hard, then frantically shoved half of her other hand down her throat, watching as the small amount of dinner she had eaten began to come up. She wasn't quite sure why she was even doing it, she usually only did it whenever she had eaten too much, whether accidentally or intentionally, but this was different, she was doing it because it was what she always ended up doing when she was upset, and somehow it made the bleak situation seem a bit better.
When she was done emptying the contents of her stomach, Santana flushed the toilet and leaned against the bathroom wall in despair, slowly sliding down it until she was collapsed in a sobbing mess on the tiled floor. Why didn't anybody want her, why wasn't she good enough to be accepted, even by the ones that were supposed to love her unconditionally? And why was she such a fuck up that she had to run to stick her fingers down her throat after hearing something that she didn't like? God, maybe her abuela was right, maybe she was a disgrace to her family, what could they possibly have done to deserve such a messed up outcast as a daughter.
After what seemed like hours of more sobbing, Santana heard a series of noises from her bedroom, what sounded like people moving things around, and she tried desperately to quieten her sobs, as she didn't want whoever was out there, either her mom or abuela, to hear her crying. Suddenly, there was a loud bang from outside the door, and the bathroom floor shook slightly, then Santana heard a voice she'd know anywhere.
"San? Santana? Where are you, I have an extra Christmas present for you!"
Oh great, Brittany had decided to climb through her window again, Santana was sick of telling her not to do that, she had always been scared that she'd fall and break her neck or something, it wasn't exactly a small drop, plus it was a major invasion of privacy.
There was a soft knock on the door, "San, are you in there?" came Brittany's cheerful voice.
Santana sat in silence, debating with herself whether or not she should speak up and say she was there, she didn't want Brittany to see her in such a state, but she didn't exactly want to spend anymore time alone either.
Brittany seemed to have magical powers somehow, "Can I come in?" she said, in a more gentle tone this time. She seemed to take Santana's small sniff as a yes, and turned the door handle and let herself into the bathroom.
"Oh San," Brittany said, seeing her best friend, sat crying on the bathroom floor, her face damp with tears, and on Christmas no less. "What's the matter, Honey?"
Santana just shook her head, unable to put into words how awful she was feeling, and what had happened with her grandmother, and what she had just done to somehow try to fix everything.
"Did you throw up?" Brittany asked her, crouching down next to Santana, winding her fingers around hers. Damn, Santana almost managed to forget that Brittany knew her inside out, she seemed to have some almost mystical power when it came to Santana, she could somehow always tell what she was thinking.
Brittany looked at Santana, squeezing her hand tighter, asking with her eyes for an answer. Santana felt yet another tear well up in her eye, then slip down her cheek, and more seemed to keep coming, no matter how hard she tried to stop them, until her whole face was wet again, along with the top half of her shirt. Brittany wrapped her arms around Santana and hugged her tightly for what seemed like hours, but at the same time only seconds, whilst Santana sobbed into the blonde's shoulder, crying for all the wishes, and the regrets, and the longing. Crying for all the shame and disappointment, brought on by nobody but herself.
After an eternal silence, Brittany slowly broke apart from the hug, pulling gently away from Santana's slightly wet embrace. "I have something that will cheer you up," she told her friend, smiling softly into her teary hazel eyes.
"What?" Santana said sniffly, wiping her eyes on the back of her hand, black smudges appearing on her olive coloured skin."Here," Brittany said, pushing a small gift bag across the bathroom floor to Santana. "It's for Christmas."
"But we already exchanged Christmas presents. Last week, remember?" Santana told her, wondering if her bubbly friend had somehow forgotten.
"I know, but I wanted to get you something else, even more special. Open it," Brittany prompted her.
Santana reached over slightly for the gift bag, still sniffling, and opened it up to reveal a small black box, obviously containing some sort of jewellery. Somewhat curious, Santana slowly opened the box, her hands shaking slightly, to reveal a delicate looking silver bracelet, engraved with tiny letters.
"Read it," Brittany said, smiling and bobbing up and down a little bit, obviously excited to see Santana's expression when she read the inscription.
"You're my hope, my future, my sunshine. I love you with all of my heart, and I have nothing more to give to you than everything I already have" Santana read out-loud, in a whispered voice. "Oh Britt," she breathed, smiling softly at her girlfriend.
"And I mean it. Always San."
The two girls met in a tight embrace, still on the bathroom floor, both glad to have each other's company. And in the arms of the girl she loved, Santana realized that it didn't matter what anyone else thought of her, family or not, all she cared about was Brittany.