Warning: Brief language
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee. The title of this chapter comes from Prince's 'When Doves Cry'. I thought the chorus was rather fitting.
When Doves Cry
She stood in the same spot, just in front of the closed door, for a matter of minutes. Her gaze remained fixated on the still blonde before her. Brittany's torso and head were sticking out from underneath the blankets of the bed and her Cheerios uniform had been swapped for a blue hospital gown. There were wires sticking out every which way and that, but none of that could have distracted Santana.
Even then, Brittany looked so peaceful. Her lips were splayed out in a small frown, but the rest of her features were relaxed and gentle. Her skin was torn up and slightly paler than normal, and her hair was a mess, but Santana couldn't help but notice how absolutely beautiful Brittany was.
She had never in her entire lifetime been so thankful and happy to see her best friend. Sure, there were times in the past where she had been heartbroken by a guy or done something so downright stupid that she broke out in tears and called the blonde in need of her best friend, but never was she so thankful to see Brittany as much as she was then. Even if she unconscious, all that mattered was that they were together and Brittany was alive and safe.
Santana began to slowly make her way toward the bed. It was odd, she couldn't really feel herself walking, nor did she really acknowledge that she was doing so until the space between them began to drastically diminish. Rather, it felt like she was effortlessly sliding over ice or like she was floating a few inches off the ground. But eventually, there she was, standing right over top of Brittany with her thighs pressed against the edge of the bed.
She kept her hands plastered against her sides as she took in the blonde's face. For a long time she just stared. It was amazing how little she really knew that face. She could recognize it, pick it out in a crowd of people, of course, but it wasn't until she took in every little inch of her thin, pale face did Santana really become acquainted with it.
Her hands began to shake at her sides and she swallowed hard. Keep yourself together, S. It was so difficult for her to be in control, though. To see her best friend lying on a hospital bed in front of her pulled at Santana's heartstrings and left her feeling empty and cold inside. All she wanted to see was the warm smile and striking blue eyes of her best friend.
Her breath became uneven and a little ragged in her chest, coming out in short gasps. The Latina scrunched her eyes shut in hopes to gain her composure, but doing so was nearly impossible.
As she pulled open her eyes, she scanned the length of Brittany's body yet again. Her eyes stopped on the dark prominent stitches that were visible beneath the dancer's chaotic bangs, then she switched her focus to the red abrasion on the right side of her face. From just above the eyebrow, down her cheek and to right above the chin was a speckled exposed streak of raw skin. Looking at it made her feel light-headed and nauseous so she tore her eyes away.
Seeing Brittany in that state brought about another wave of guilt; not necessarily one in which she was responsible for everything, but that Brittany had to suffer through this and had to do it alone. Right about then, Santana would have given anything to pull a Freaky Friday and swap bodies with the blonde.
All the while the Pierces had been visiting their daughter, Santana had been trying not to think about what the doctor had said. She had done her best to distract herself, to focus on his hopeful attitude and his positive words of encouragement. But now the pessimism haunted her, the words floating around in brain and repeating themselves over and over again, taunting her like a villain in a bad horror movie.
There is always a chance that she won't wake up.
But Brittany had to wake up. She had to. Santana would never be able to function without her. She was Brittany's protector, and in return, Brittany kept her...human; sane even. Without her, she would be alone and unable to keep her emotions, or lack thereof, in check. She would be losing her best friend and confidant, the one person whom she'd ever let her see cry; the one person whom saw her weaknesses and knew all about her flaws; the one person whom saw right through the attitude and bitchiness and loved her in spite of it. Losing Brittany...meant losing everything, and Santana couldn't imagine a world without her. She didn't even want to try.
Her breaths began to come faster as it all began to weigh down on her. Every inch of her body shook and her eyes burned as she fought back tears. She rested her hands softly atop the still body and leaned over her figure a bit more. Feeling overwhelmed by desperation, she opened her mouth and uttered the first logical sentence—consisting of more than two words—that she had said since the paramedics had arrived at McKinley High many hours earlier to take Brittany to the hospital.
"Brittany, you have to wake up." Her mind was racing faster than she could process her thoughts, her rationality gone along with the part of her that she felt she was losing as she watched the motionless girl that lay before her—leaving behind a jumbled mess of confusion and chaotic emotions.
"Brittany, please wake up! B, please..." She couldn't help but gently shake the body in the hospital bed.
"You can't do this to me. You have no idea how much I need you." Her voice began to waver as she leaned over Brittany's still body. She placed a hand to the blonde's forehead and tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear. Using the inside of her thumb, Santana ran her finger along the profile of the girl in front of her. She traced along the edge of her forehead, down her cheek bone and jaw, and eventually stopped on the point of her chin. Her skin was so soft and warm, even now.
"I need you to be strong—be strong for me." A lone tear escaped her eye and slid down her cheek. She didn't even bother to hide it or wipe it away. There was no reason to; she was alone with her best friend. What did it matter if her best friend saw her cry? That's what best friends are there for, anyway. And what did it matter, especially if her best friend was unconscious.
Santana Lopez did not cry often. She was a rock. Hard as stone and thick as a brick wall. Not much got through, but when it did, she could often control herself. But none of that seemed relevant that day.
Another tear slowly slid down her cheek, this time, from a different eye. Being careful not to put too much weight overtop the girl, she bent over and rested herself atop the blonde's side. Then, she brought the blonde's hand to her own and intertwined their fingers. First, she linked their pinkies. Stopping to observe the gesture, she couldn't help but stare at their symbol of friendship. It was such a simple gesture, almost juvenile, yet it meant so much. She brought the two fingers to her lips and kissed the adjoining appendages tenderly. Then she began to lace more fingers together, slowing moving one at a time so each finger hooked its opposite until their hands were an uncomfortable mess of interlocking fingers. She brought the hands up to her lips and kissed the back of Brittany's palm. Lowering the hands again, she softly removed her hand and laced it normally with the thin hand of her best friend and rested them atop the girl's chest.
"Santana?"
The Latina slowly turned her head to face the door of the hospital room to find her mom standing in the doorway.
"It's getting late and you have school in the morning, honey," she whispered as she took in the emotions dripping down her daughter's cheeks. "Maybe you should be heading home now." She began to take a step into the room in hopes of comforting her distressed daughter, but was quickly halted.
"No, Mom. Stop. I'm fine, okay? I just need some time." She struggled to maintain control of her words as she glanced between the blank expression of her friend and that of the worried look on her mother's face. "And no, I'm not leaving her."
"Santana—"
"Mom, I really don't give a shit. She's my best friend, I can't leave her. Listen, my car's already here. Just go home and I'll drove myself home when I'm ready."
"When will that be?"
"I don't know. I could care less about school right now, okay? I promise I'll be fine and I'll come straight home after I'm done here. No stupid shit, promise." She fixed her gaze onto her mother, her eyes dark but pleading and her expression unmoving.
The older woman let out a sigh. "Fine, but text me if you decide to stay overnight." And with that she walked away and closed the door behind her.
Santana turned back to Brittany. Her lips quivered as more tears began to escape her eyes. One ran the length of her face before dripping down to their intertwined hands, pooling across their fingers. More began to quickly follow and join it.
"I'm sorry I let this happen to you, B," she whispered. "I promise I won't let anything or anyone hurt you ever again. I know that's a stupid promise to make, but I'm going to try to do everything in my power to make it happen. And I'm so sorry that this had to happen to you. You of all people don't deserve it. I'm sure you'd say that none of this is my fault, but I need to blame someone for this. So I have to blame myself, because there's no else I can think of to blame." She sniffled and wiped away the overwhelming amount of tears in her eyes with her free arm's forearm. "Brittany, you're my best friend. You know me better than anyone, and you've always been there for me. So I promise that as long as your heart is still beating, I will be here for you. You know, sometimes, I don't know if you realize how much you really mean to me. But you're my everything. Without you, I'd be lost. You're more than just a best friend to me, B. I love you. I hope you realize that."
Santana was silently bawling now. She made no noise, but the tears streaming from her eyes came quickly and continued to increase in pressure. She hadn't cried this hard in a long time, possibly in forever.
She repositioned herself so that she was sitting on the end of the bed next to the blonde.
"I'm sorry that I was so insensitive earlier. You were right. I was being a bad friend, and you don't deserve that. You deserve so much more, B. And I'm sorry that I didn't see how you felt about me," she paused awkwardly, "er, us. Maybe I was blind, so to speak, but really, I think I was just in denial. There were so many signs, now that I think about it. Everyone seemed to see it. I mean, Karofsky, Azimio, probably everyone in Glee. God, the whole school must know. I can't believe how ignorant I've been. I never meant to hurt you when I shot you down like that. I know you weren't even asking me out or anything, but I guess I was just kind of uncomfortable with everything. And before, when you were talking about how you thought you were stupid...I think I was just so caught up in that that I flipped a bitch and didn't stop to think and listen.
So I just want you to know that I'm sorry that I was inconsiderate and insensitive. I'm sorry that I hurt you and didn't just stop and listen to you. I'm sorry that I wasn't one hundred percent there for you when you needed it the most. I just hope that you will forgive me. I promise I will do my best to make sure none of those things ever happen again. I want to be there for you—no matter what. Through everything: highs and lows, relationships, killer Cheerios practices, Glee duets, bad test grades...everything. If you let me, I will be there. And if you let me, I want to reconsider the "us" thing. I just need to talk about it, but I can't do that without you. I want you here with me, Britt. But more importantly than all of that, I want to be here with you when you wake up."
Santana gave Brittany's hand a small squeeze before she reached up to wipe away the tears from her eyes and pull out her phone. She quickly scrawled out a message in a text and pressed send.
Hey, Mom. Staying with B tonight. I'll be fine. Don't bother texting or calling, I'll come home when I'm ready.
She jammed the phone back into her pocket and then leaned over and pulled her shoes off. The room was already dim, but she turned down the light on the table next to her so that it wasn't quite so bright. Turning to face Brittany one more time, she bent over and kissed the girl gently on the forehead, leaving her lips to linger against the soft warm skin for a few seconds before pulling away. Then, she pulled her legs up on the bed next to Brittany and flattened her body so that she was lying down next to the lengthy body beside her.
Her position was far from comfortable—her legs were scrunched tightly together, she had no pillow, and she was nearly hanging off the side of the bed—but none of that mattered to her. As long as she was close to Brittany, she was fine. Sniffling and wiping away a tear, she shut her eyes and entered a much needed sleep.
A/N: So we come full circle, eh? Funny how that happens. ;)
Hope you all enjoyed! Only a few more chapters left. Other than that, I have nothing special or witty to say. So here's where I ask for reviews. Thanks for reading! You all brighten my day. :)
OH! Hold it there! I do have something Glee-related to say. I don't know if any of you watched the Golden Globes tonight, but watching Chris Colfer win his award was absolutely amazing. I am so proud of the boy. And our girls Heather and Naya looked fantastic and looked like they felt the same level of happiness and gratification for Chris. It was touching and inspiring to say the least.