Out of Kindness
Chapter Four
After the girls left the beach, the rest of the day was spent exploring parts of Los Angeles. Brittany showed off some of her favourite places while Santana took pictures of almost anything and everything. When they eventually got home, they were both well and truly spent so, after eating the dinner that Santana had cooked, Brittany fell into bed. Santana, on the other hand waited up.
She was sitting at the kitchen table, hair in a messy-bun and with her black-rimmed glasses resting upon her face. With her laptop on the table in front of her, Santana was busy sifting through the photographs she had taken that day when she landed on the one particular picture she was dying to edit and perfect. It had been taken at Venice Beach and, in the frame, there was an older man busking on his electric guitar. The guitar itself was decorated in a red and white hypnotic swirl and the man had such a concentrated look on his face as his fingers danced along the strings. The background was out of focus, and in it you could make out people going about their daily business. The only things that were crystal clear in the picture were the busking man, his guitar, and a dancing figure with blonde hair, captured mid-twirl.
The dancing blonde was, of course, Brittany who had stopped to put money in the guitar case and dance to the music this man was making. Santana had captured the moment so beautifully; Brittany held still in one frame, performing a circular twisting motion on her tippy toes, her arms held loosely near her mid-section and her hair splayed out in the air going in all directions. She held a look of sublime innocence on her face as the two of them danced together in their own world; he with his fingers on the strings, and her with her entire body barely gripping the asphalt.
"Awesome picture, San. Is that one of yours?"
Santana was startled at the sudden interruption to her concentration. Turning around she saw Charlie placing his bag down near the couch and taking his coat off.
"Hey, you scared me. I didn't hear you come in."
"I was trying to be quiet, I thought both of you would have been asleep by now."
"Brittany is. I stayed up to do some editing."
"So that is one of yours? " Charlie asked, now looking directly over her shoulder at the computer screen. "It's beautiful. Where did you take it?"
"Venice Beach. Britt spent the day showing me around... Take a seat, Charlie." Santana said, motioning to the seat across from her and closing her laptop.
He did as she requested and sat himself down in the chair.
"Are you hungry?" She asked him, getting up and walking into the kitchen.
"Starving. I was going to make a couple of grilled cheese sandwiches, something fast and easy."
Santana returned from the kitchen with a plate in one hand, the top of it covered with aluminium foil, and cutlery in the other.
"Here," she said, placing it down in front of Charlie. "Just be careful, the plate's hot. I kept it warm in the oven."
"Thanks!" Said Charlie, bewildered and thrilled all at once. He removed the covering from the dish to reveal some kind of Italian pasta. He took a generous bite from the meal and said, with his mouth quite full, "This is so good."
"Definitely better than grilled cheese, Charlie. You should be eating better."
"Yeah well, Brittany doesn't cook, so..."
"It isn't up to her to make sure you get fed, she isn't your keeper. Which reminds me of why I'm sitting up waiting for you."
"I thought you said you were editing your photos?" Charlie looked up, surprised at the sudden change in tone of the conversation.
"Yes, editing photos, while I waited for you to come home. So, let's get straight to the point, Charlie. You lied to me, and I want to know why. Because, truth be told, I'm a little pissed." She said as she cocked her head slightly to the side and sat back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest.
"What? When?" He asked, almost incredulously.
"Do you remember this conversation? Charlie, have you told your girlfriend I'm coming? I don't want trouble. Oh, yes Santana. I told her you're a lesbian and she's fine with it all." Santana said, mocking Charlie's voice at the end. All the while he sat there in stunned silence.
"Well," she spoke again, "what do you have to say for yourself?"
Still he said nothing, looking down trying to gather his thoughts.
"And you had her believe that there was something more than friendship between us in the past. What's with that?"
"Okay I know this looks bad." Charlie finally spoke up. "This is something I didn't expect to be caught out on. I wasn't anticipating that you two would know each other."
"Look, it's not like it's a huge lie, it's just the fact that you lied. I don't understand what your angle is. Why are you trying to play games? If Britt and I didn't know each other and I was coming into the home the two of you share, and she sees me as a threat to your relationship...why would you put me in that position? Why would you deliberately make her feel uncomfortable?" Santana was speaking in a low and assertive tone, keeping her anger at bay but making it clear she was less than happy.
"It's not how you're making it seem. I guess I didn't really think about the position you'd be in, San. I'm sorry..." He trailed off.
"Explanations, now. My patience is running short."
"Okay, okay," Charlie said as he raised his hands in the air, though shifting uncomfortably in his chair as he searched for the words. "Like I said, I wasn't expecting you guys to know each other, you know? It's just...when I told her you were coming, and I was telling her a little bit about you and about our friendship, she kind of started to freak out on me."
"Oh, I see. Because the way to fix that is obviously to have her believe that I'm your ex-girlfriend. My bad, it must be my lesbian brain; I just don't understand the dynamics of a heterosexual relationship." Santana's voice was dripping with sarcasm.
"Would you stop and let me finish? This isn't easy to say." Charlie paused and Santana gave a slight nod of her head, prompting him to continue, though held a stony expression on her face. "I didn't make anything up about you and I. I didn't say you were an ex-girlfriend; she came to those conclusions on her own and I...just didn't correct her. It's just that...I don't know...her being jealous...it felt kind of nice."
Santana's brow furrowed dangerously and her lips parted, drawing a breath as though she were about to start yelling. But, Charlie continued before she had a chance.
"Hear me out okay. Brittany is the nicest person, you know that. She can just be so easy going, like nothing matters to her. It's like I could treat her any which way and she wouldn't bat an eye lid. But sometimes it just makes me feel like she doesn't care about me, or us. When you love someone, you're supposed to act a little crazy sometimes. You're supposed to challenge how they feel about you when you're a little insecure. You can't always help it. But, she never does. So having her be jealous over you, it was refreshing. In some weird, sadistic way, it made me feel loved by her. So, I went with it." By the time Charlie finished talking, his shoulders were slumped and his head hung low as he gazed at his own hands resting in his lap. He was ashamed.
"Okay, is it my turn to talk?" Santana asked, but continued talking without waiting for a response. "I've known you for a long time, Charlie and for the first time I can honestly say that I am so disappointed. I've seen you in a few serious relationships, I've seen you have more meaningless flings than I care to count, and I know exactly how you treat the women you're with. And don't think I don't know you this well, because I do, I observe things. I love you, Chuck, but you're an asshole to every girl you've been with." Santana paused, waiting for the words to seep in. "Normally I let you do your thing, whatever, it's none of my business. But this time is different; it's Brittany.
"You're right about one thing," Santana continued, "Brittany is the nicest person. A lot of the time, she can be too nice for her own good. She has the biggest heart of anyone I've ever met and people take advantage of that. When we were younger, Britt always had trouble standing up for herself, so I did it for her because she hates confrontation. I know that sometimes she seems nonchalant about almost everything, but that certainly doesn't mean she doesn't understand a situation or get hurt by someone else's words.
"Here's what I'm trying to say to you, Charlie. As much as I love you, I have loved her almost my whole life and spent much of that time protecting her from the assholes of the world. Ten years apart has changed nothing between us and I'm warning you right now. If you hurt her and I find out about it, which I will, the doctors will have a really hard time retracting your testacles from your insides, because that's how hard I will kick you. Now clean up your shitty act and treat her the way she deserves to be treated." Santana was now leaning forward slightly with her finger pointed towards Charlie, who was still refusing to make eye contact.
"Alright, I've said what I have to say. You finish your dinner, I'm going to bed." Santana stood from where she sat, reached over to pat Charlie affectionately on the head and make her way to the bedroom.
Just as she was about turn into her room, she stopped dead in the hallway, noticing a figure leaning against the doorframe. Brittany looked deep into Santana's eyes for a moment too long before wrapping her arms around the brunette.
"Thank-you," Brittany whispered in her ear. "I love you."
Brittany pulled back slowly from the embrace and Santana raked her eyes over the features of her friend, noticing the glassy eyes above tear stained cheeks.
"Britt?" She questioned in a small whisper, brushing her hand over the blonde's cheek.
Brittany just glanced down, offering a small smile and taking Santana's hand gently in her own. She leaned in and lightly brushed her lips against Santana's forehead before walking across the hall to her own bedroom.
XxXx
The summer air drifted through the open window, causing the curtain to sway in the dark. Brittany lay sprawled out on her bed and, despite it being two o'clock in the morning, sleep still eluded her. She rolled from one side of the bed to the other trying to find a cooler space to occupy. Even though it was only early June, summer had hit with full force and the nights as well as the days were almost unbearably hot.
Brittany was about to roll over in her bed once more when a strange scraping noise from outside caught her attention. She pulled herself up on her elbows, wondering if she had imagined it, when she heard a different sound again. Just as she was about to get up to investigate, Brittany saw a leg stretch through her open window, then an arm and shoulder, followed by the rest of the body they belonged to. Lacking finesse, the body stumbled and fell to the wooden floor of the bedroom.
"Santana?" Brittany questioned as she jumped out of bed to help her up.
Santana remained silent, laying still, her face nuzzling into the floorboards and a brunette mess of hair, untamed, acting as a veil. Brittany took two swift strides and knelt next to her friend, taking hold of her hand and attempting to pull her up into a standing position. Santana, responding to the prompt, stood on unsteady feet and made her way over to the bed. Without a word, she lowered herself beneath the covers and curled herself into the foetal position.
Brittany grew increasingly uneasy at the sight before her. Santana had never snuck into her room at night; she didn't have to. The girls were always welcome at one another's houses, it was never an issue no matter what time of day or night it was. Brittany knelt next to her on the bed and ran a hand over her friend's forehead, but Santana was still unresponsive.
"San, what's the matter?"
Nothing. Brittany slid under the sheets, wrapped an arm tightly around Santana's waist and tried to look at her face in the darkness. Santana's eyes were open and unfocused, her face lacking any kind of expression. Her mouth was slightly ajar as she breathed in and out and Brittany could detect the subtle stench of vomit on her breath. Even though her skin was warm, her body trembled.
"San? Honey, you're shaking." Brittany said as she pulled Santana in closer to her.
Santana did respond this time by burying her face in Brittany's neck, melting into her friend. Even though her body still trembled beyond control, she drew comfort from the embrace as Brittany gently shushed her whilst stroking her hair.
The sky beyond the window had slowly begun to turn grey and the stars disappeared, indicating to Brittany that at least a couple of hours had passed and neither of them had moved from their moulded position. But, only now was Santana's shivering form beginning to still and her breaths were becoming deeper and less controlled. She must have fallen asleep and so Brittany allowed herself finally to drift off.
When Brittany roused from slumber, the sun now blazing through the window, it was to an empty bed. She shot up in bed, bleary eyed from lack of sleep, yet very aware that Santana should have been lying next to her. Standing from where she sat, she walked out of the room in search of her friend and found her Grandmother sitting on the couch in the living room.
"Grandma, have you seen Santana this morning?"
"Yeah, she's in the shower. Been in there for a while though. Is everything alright, Britt, honey?"
"I'm not so sure, Gran, why do you ask?"
"Santana was up early, before I got up. I found her sitting at the kitchen table staring off into space, nursing a cold cup of coffee that she'd barely touched. I didn't get much out of her, which isn't like her, normally she's so talkative."
"I don't know what's going on...I'll go see if she's okay." Brittany walked over to her Grandma, kissed her on the head before making her way back down the hall towards the bathroom.
Brittany stood in front of the closed door, her fist held in mid-air as she hesitated to knock. Everything that had happened in the past few hours was, in a word, strange. The entire situation was making Brittany feel very uneasy.
"San?" Brittany said, eventually rapping lightly on the door.
After several seconds lapsed, Santana responded.
"Uhhm...yeah, I'll be out in a minute. Do you need to use the bathroom?"
"Can I come in?" Brittany asked through the wood of the closed door.
"I'll be out in a minute." Santana repeated and Brittany could hear the shower being turned off.
Moments later, the brunette emerged from the bathroom, steam billowing behind her, strands of wet hair sticking to her face and a white towel wrapped around her olive skin. She looked at Brittany, but avoided meeting her eyes.
"All yours," she said, gesturing behind her and offering a small smile.
"That's ok, I woke up and you were gone so I was just checking to see if you were in there...umm, there's a lot of steam in the bathroom. You hate hot showers, even in the winter?" Brittany pointed out as she followed Santana back into the bedroom.
"Yeah...I just felt like I needed to get warm. Maybe I have a fever or something." Santana said, still not meeting Brittany's eyes. "Can I maybe borrow something to wear? I didn't bring anything with me."
"Sure," Brittany responded before going over to her drawers and pulling out a pair of denim shorts, some underwear and an oversized t-shirt.
"Here," she said, handing the folded pile to Santana who was sitting on the bed with her back to Brittany, lost in her own thoughts. The blonde sat next to her friend and pulled her damp body into her. Once again, Santana melted into the embrace, this time allowing tears to overcome her.
"Please, don't ask me," is all she could manage to say.
This did nothing to ease Brittany's worried mind but she knew better than to push the topic. Santana was like a duck in a pond at times. If you're still enough and wait patiently, she'll come to you eventually. If you chase her, she'll fly away scared and never come back.
If Brittany were to push Santana for the information she clearly didn't want to give, then chances are she'd build her walls too high for the blonde to climb. Brittany knew that, if she were patient enough, Santana would tell her eventually.
"Okay, baby," she said, holding her as tight as she could. "You can tell me anything, but wait until you're ready. I love you so much."
Santana just sobbed into Brittany's neck and clung to her as though her life depended on it.