In the end, it wasn't Blaine who totally and completely ruined Santana's senior year.
In the end, it was Finn.
Finn.
Kurt and Santana's friendship had entered a strange stilted space because of the Blaine matter. She made it known she still cared about him but she also made it clear that she wasn't going to be a cheerleader for their relationship.
It was a slow shift but they started to spend less and less time together, not out of anger but out of awkwardness. Santana used her extra time to focus on glee but even that part of her life hit a snag when for several weeks tension and unrest began to form in the glee club.
It was their final year for many of them and several of the members felt like they weren't getting their dues and the respect. It was true that in the past Rachel had been mega obnoxious about making sure everything was about her, but this time around the root of the problem really stemmed from Mr. Schue and how he chose to run the glee club. Pushing Mercedes instead of encouraging her. Chastising Santana for not having allegiance to a club that considered her dispensable. Together they just felt that if Mr. Schue wasn't going to appreciate them then maybe they were better off just walking away which is exactly what they ended up doing.
They obviously still cared about the glee members they left behind but they had to do what was right for them and what was right for them was to find a way to showcase their voices in their final year at McKinley. And thus the Troubletones were born. Sugar was there in beginning of course funding it, but then came Brittany and with the help of several Cheerios looking for more extracurriculars they were able to assemble some real competition for the New Directions.
But then Finn had to piss all over everything.
He had called her a coward in a hallway and questioned Brittany's ability to love her, questioned Santana's own ability to love herself.
This event of course led to the slap in the auditorium, but more importantly it led to her being outed to all of Ohio via Sue's spiteful running opponent and his campaign ad. Finn's outburst forced her to do something she wasn't entirely ready for, because dancing with Brittany at McKinley's prom was one thing but sitting down with her parents for a one on one talk about Feelings, that was something else entirely. But they were going to find out soon anyways and she knew it was best if it came from her.
The surprising thing was it wasn't as horrific as Santana expected it to be. They sat there in their living room in silence for only a millisecond before telling her that they were still there and that she still had their love. They even seemed remorseful for not picking up on things sooner. Her parents weren't distant but they were always occupied and that was something they took responsibility for then and there. Putting work obligations above spending quality time with their only child.
''I don't ever want you to feel like you have to hide anything from me, from us,'' Maribel said. ''I'm sorry you felt like you had to.''
''It's fine, ma,'' Santana said.
''It's not. I think your mother and I agree we haven't been the most attentive,'' her father Santiago added as he came to sit on the coffee table in front of her. ''We've been so focused on working hard to make sure you have the life we've always wanted for you, but what does any of that matter if we're never here.''
Santana shrugged. ''To be honest, I kinda like that y'all are never here.''
''Hush,'' Maribel shushed her. ''Because that's going to change. You are who you are and I want to know who you are and if that means working less and being around more then that's what I'm gonna do.''
''It's what we're both going to do,'' her father said supportively.
Santana swallowed and looked between her parents. ''So...you guys don't like...hate me?''
Her parents stared at her as if they couldn't compute the possibility of that ever being the case.
''You're our daughter,'' her father said, a nervous laugh bubbling up and out of him. ''That's all I know, Santana. Of course I don't hate you.''
''We love you, we'll always love you.'' Maribel smiled through tears.
Her father looked like he was watering at the eyes too and soon Santana had too weepy but overly affectionate parents sandwiching her in a too tight hug. She squirmed a little in place but then realized there was no escaping and so she gave in, sinking back onto the couch she was sitting on as her parents hugged her from each side.
Her mom and dad were more than okay with it. She just had to tell her grandmother.
Alma Lopez could be a harsh woman but there were moments, flashes of kindness and warmth she had bestowed upon Santana. Santana knew how lucky she was, that she was one of the very few people who could bring forth that glimmer of tenderness from her grandmother. Still, while her grandmother who was loathe to admit she had a soft spot for anyone had indeed deemed Santana to be her most favorite grandchild, Santana knew there was always that risk of losing that favor.
''Are you sure you don't want me to go in with you?'' Brittany asked a few days later.
They were idling in front of the residence of Alma Lopez. Santana had decided it was time to get that conversation over with and Brittany had insisted on driving her to the house.
''No I should do this on my own.'' Santana took a deep breath and peered out of the passenger's side window. ''I'll be fine.''
Brittany turned the engine off. ''I'll be here then.''
''You should go.''
''Why?''
Santana shrugged. ''Because. I don't think this is going to go as smoothly as it did with my parents.''
''What makes you say that?''
''My grandmother is...she just...I don't know. I don't think she's gonna set me on fire or anything crazy but she might not understand at first. She might not want to understand. I'm probably going to have to take my time in there and I don't want you waiting out here for me. Go hang with your little sister or something and I'll call you when I'm done.''
Brittany narrowed her eyes. ''Are you sure?''
''Totally sure. Like I said I'll be fine. I can do this, Britt.''
Brittany exhaled but gave her a single affirmative nod. ''I know you can.''
Santana leaned over to give her a sweet but chaste peck on the cheek and with that she made her exit. She didn't move from the sidewalk until she saw Brittany's vehicle turn the corner.
She started walking forward, her eyes never leaving the small decorative cross posted onto the front porch.
X
Hours later she couldn't really recall how she got home or when she got home. Time sort of ceased to exist as she sat on the floor at the foot of her bed.
She couldn't see beyond her tears. She didn't want to. After everything that had just happened with her grandmother she just wanted to the tears to overtake her, to wash over her until she didn't exist, until she didn't have to feel this.
This terrible unyielding hurt that felt like it was consuming her from the inside out.
She didn't want to see anything or do anything or be anything, she just wanted this, this pain to go away.
''Hey babe. You didn't call me sooo I swung by,'' Brittany said entering the darkened room. She went to turn on the lamp on Santana's desk and halted at what she saw. Her girlfriend in tears with devastation written all over her face. ''Santana…'' she immediately went down to the floor and tried to pull Santana towards her. ''What...what happened?''
Santana's only response was to shake her head and wipe at her face. ''No.''
''What do you mean no?''
Santana struggled to stand and turn away, unwilling to let Brittany see her. Not like this. ''I mean go home, Brittany.''
''What did she say?'' Brittany asked, knowing this reaction couldn't have come out of nowhere. Something had to have gone wrong. Very wrong. ''Your grandmother.''
''It doesn't matter what she said. It's done and I'm over it.''
Brittany stood and tried to once again pull her into a hug, and again Santana brushed her off. Gently of course, but she tried to make the implication clear. She didn't want Brittany near her right now.
''Can you please go?''
''Why?''
''Because. Britt, I'm tired and I've had a fucked up evening and I don't want to talk about it, with you or anyone. I just want to be alone now okay?''
Brittany touched her arm. ''I want to be here though.''
''I know but what I want is to not think right now. I don't want to think about how my grandmother basically threw me out of her house tonight. I don't want to think about how me being honest is some sinful thing to her. I don't want to think about the way she looked at me or the way she talked to me or the way she so easily just walked away from me. I don't want to think about how small she made me feel. I just don't, Brittany. I just want to fucking cry in my goddamn room and not have to think so just...just give me that and go. Please.''
Brittany wiped a tear away on her own face and nodded. Still she went to Santana one more time and tilted her face towards her so their eyes could meet. ''I love you and I want to help you.''
''I know you do and I love you too, but the best way you can help me is to give me some space right now.'' Santana softened as Brittany petted her hair, soothing it down. ''I'm not saying you can't be there for me or help me later on, but I want to be alone tonight.''
''Okay.''
''Okay?''
''Yeah okay. I don't get it but you do what you need to do tonight. I'll go if that's what you want. Can you at least text me before you go to bed? Just so I can know you're taking care of yourself.''
Brittany planted a long but delicate kiss to the middle of Santana's forehead and then with a heartbreaking look began for the door and made her exit.
Santana felt a strange sort of anger inside of her.
Why did she have to be the way that she was?
Why couldn't she had just let Brittany stay and be there for her?
Why did she have to be difficult?
Why did she have to be different at all?
X
The next several days passed in a fog for Santana. She just sort of rolled through the motions from that point.
When the Troubletones lost to the New Directions she knew it was complete and total bull but she barely had the energy to bitch about it. She just didn't care at that point. Even if they had won she found it difficult to believe she would've been able to find joy in their victory to begin with.
She couldn't help it. She couldn't stop carrying the hurt and sorrow of her grandmother's rejection inside of her heart. It seemed to live there now.
Brittany was there at her side the whole time, loving her and supporting her, but there were days Santana could barely stand it. Brittany deserved someone strong, someone who could protect her, someone who was better and Santana felt like a failure. It was hard to hold Brittany's hand because all Santana felt was unworthy.
For the first time in a long time she felt lost again. Lost inside of this constant ache that she was unable to escape.
''Babe, I got you an extra serving of breadsticks,'' Brittany announced as she walked backwards into Santana's bedroom.
It was finally Drag Race night. The first Drag Race night since Santana had spoken to her grandmother and Brittany had really hoped that maybe this would cheer Santana up, even if it was just for an hour or two. But when she tossed the take out bags onto Santana's dresser and turned around all she saw was her girlfriend splayed out starfish style across her bad, staring at her ceiling.
''What are you doing?'' Brittany asked, noting that Santana's TV was turned off.
''Huh? Oh this is just my seven o'clock brooding,'' Santana tried to make light. ''Not to be confused with my four p.m. brooding.''
Brittany looked at her watch and then hopped onto the mattress to curl up alongside Santana. ''I meant, Drag Race is tonight. Usually you're up and doing your pre-show rituals right now. What's wrong?''
''Nothing's wrong,'' Santana answered with a noticeable lack of enthusiasm. ''I guess I'm not in the mood for Drag Race tonight.''
Brittany squinted in confusion. ''Say again?''
''I'm not in the mood for Drag Race.''
''Since when?''
''Since I'm pretty emotionally exhausted lately. I don't know, Brittany, I'm just not. The DVR will catch it. I'll watch it later or whatever. You brought dinner though so why don't we eat, we can make a picnic on the floor or something.''
Brittany opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out.
She didn't know what to make of it. She was pleased that Santana had become warmer and appeared to be eating and taking care of herself for the most part, but Drag Race had become such an important, powerful presence in her girlfriend's life and now Santana couldn't be bothered to muster up any interest for it. It made Brittany sad to think Santana was denying herself something that had once given her joy and a feeling of community.
She let it pass that night, but then as the weeks progressed and Santana all but seemed to have stopped watching the show Brittany knew she had to do something.
X
''I need you and Santana to make up.''
''Good morning to you too, Brittany.''
Kurt was sifting through his locker when Brittany approached him one morning and launched into speech.
''Did you hear what I said?'' she asked, leaning against a locker to have a conversation with him as students strolled by them.
''I did,'' he said, continuing his search for sheet music. ''But I don't think that's possible. We can't make up because we're not fighting. We're just...giving each other space.''
''Right. Call it whatever you want to call it but you need to make things right with her.''
''I don't see why I need to do anything,'' Kurt said. ''She doesn't respect my relationship and frankly I don't need her approval.''
''This isn't about that. Forget the Blaine of it all for a second okay? I'm being serious here, Kurt,'' Brittany stressed and then to hammer home just how serious, she shut his locker, grabbed him by the arm and escorted him into a nearby empty classroom. ''Santana's in bad shape right now. She'd never admit it or let anyone see but she is. What happened with Finn messed everything up, all of her work and all of her progress.''
Kurt's exterior melted as he sank into a seat. ''I know and believe me he got a mouthful from me and Rachel about how stupid and careless he was. It was indefensible.''
''Yeah it was but I'm talking about the aftermath of all of that.''
''What do you mean?''
''I mean because of Finn and that ad she had to get in front of it and tell her parents and her grandmother and her mom and dad were super cool about it. Her grandmother...not so much.''
''What happened?'' Kurt worried.
''She still hasn't exactly told me everything but it was bad. Her grandmother didn't want to hear it. She told her to leave and never ever come back. She said some stuff about Santana and sin and scandal and - it just wasn't good. And Santana, Santana fell apart. She was so wrecked that night that she wouldn't even let me hold her.''
Kurt shook his head in sorrow. ''I'm so sorry, Britt. That's horrible.''
''Santana is putting on a brave face but she's clearly hurting. Her parents are doing the best they can, I'm doing the best they can but it wouldn't exactly hurt if she knew you were still in her corner. After everything.''
''I am. She knows that.''
''Maybe but it wouldn't hurt if she heard it one more time from you. Look if you don't want to do it for her then do it for me. I know you and I are running against each other for president but I need your help on this. As her friend, as my friend, can you just talk to her?''
''Of course, of course.''
Brittany exhaled with relief. She wasn't sure if it would help but what could it hurt. ''Thanks.''
''No thank you necessary.'' Kurt reached over to give her a reassuring squeeze on the hand.
''For what it's worth I miss you and the way things used to be.''
''Me too.''
''Maybe one day we can all work our way back to that.''
Kurt wasn't sure if that was possible but he liked to think it was. He wanted to believe that he and Santana could repair and rebuild what they once had to some degree but even if they couldn't, even if there was no way back from that he still needed to show up for her he decided.
He remembered a vow he had once made to himself and if nothing else he was a man of his word.
No squirrel friend left behind.
X
''Knock-knock,'' Kurt sang, announcing himself as he inched inside Santana's dark bedroom.
She was inside sorting through her closet, tossing things around. Her floor was a mess of clothing and shoes and -
''What is this?'' Kurt asked, toeing at a skimpy bra.
''Oh that,'' Santana peeked down. ''That's Brittany's last Christmas gift to me.''
''Hm,'' he hummed thoughtfully, wrinkling up his nose just a tad. ''Didn't think you enjoyed wearing hot pink.''
''Oh it wasn't for me to wear. I mean, it was my present but Brittany was the one wearing it.''
Kurt laughed. ''Should've known.'' He sat himself down on her bed and allowed his hands to sift through the articles she had discarded there. ''So what are you up to?''
''Just doing a little cleaning. I'm gonna donate a bunch of stuff before New York,'' she explained, going back into the closet. ''Once I get there it's going to be a new me, a new chapter.''
''Does that mean no more body-con dresses with giant bows on your ass?''
''Shut up,'' she shouted, though Kurt could hear just the tiniest bit of amusement in her voice. ''What are you doing here anyway? Shouldn't you be off somewhere gelling it up with Blaine?''
''I didn't come here to argue if that's what you're asking. Blaine and I are still together, that hasn't changed but neither have my feelings for you.'' Kurt inhaled deeply and studied a strange but stylish grey fur vest that belonged to her. He held it up to examine it from all sides before hopping up, slipping it on and then modelling it for himself in her dresser mirror. ''I came because I missed you and I missed us. It might not be like it was before but we can still hang out, right?''
Santana walked out and narrowed her eyes at him. ''Why are you wearing my vest?''
''I'm feeling my oats, let me feel my oats!'' Kurt did a little spin in it, enjoying his reflection.
Santana's face twitched into a smile. ''You're a nerd you know that right?''
''Absolutely,'' he said in a nasally tone, reminiscent of one Gia Gunn.
''Oh my god.''
''Don't act like you're not amused! I can see you laughing!'' he said, pointing a finger at her, tickled to have tickled her funny bone.
''Trust me I'm not laughing with you, I'm laughing at you.''
''Whatever. Admit it I do a fierce Gia Gunn.''
''I will do no such thing.''
''How is she though? How is she though?'' Kurt repeated a few times as he modeled the vest even more.
''God damn I love Gia Gunn,'' Santana said, looking up briefly in admiration before returning her gaze back to Kurt being ridiculous in front of her mirror. ''Is this all you came over here to do? Play dress up in front of my mirror?''
''No.'' Kurt pulled the garment off of himself and set it aside carefully.
''Then what gives Hummel?''
''Brittany told me about what happened with your grandmother,'' he admitted.
''Ah I see now,'' Santana sighed.
''I wanted you to know that I'm here for you. Whatever you need.''
''I can tell you what I don't need. I don't need you or Brittany 'saving' me, you hear? Because I'm fine. In fact I'm more than fine, I'm fabulous. I don't need your pity.''
''That's good because I don't do pity,'' he said, paraphrasing her from one of their very last really heartfelt conversations. ''This isn't about pity, Santana. This is about support. We're still friends you and I. Things are weird at the moment but I'm never gonna let that go. You might not need me right now...but you have me.''
''I told you, I'm fine. While I appreciate your concern it's not necessary. I don't need anyone's help or support, I need everyone to stop looking at me like I'm some delicate fragile thing that'll break at any moment.''
''I know you're not. Santana, you can be strong and still let people be there for you. Leaning on people and letting them love you doesn't mean you're weak.''
''Then what does it mean?''
''It means you're family.''
Santana laughed airily in dismissal. ''Right. Family. You know what this whole thing with my grandmother taught me? It's taught me that sometimes you can't even count on your family. Family doesn't mean a thing.''
''Yeah well,'' he said with a sudden flash of inspiration. ''Maybe the family we're born with doesn't always show up for us. But it's like in Season 5 of Drag Race when Roxxxy Andrews talks about the mother that abandoned her and RuPaul says we get to make our own families. I've made my own family, Santana. You're a part of it.''
''What if I don't want to be apart of it?'' she asked with exasperation. ''What if I just want to be left alone? Listen I've had enough of this after school special Kurt. Thanks for dropping by, you can even take the fur vest if you want, but I'm done with this conversation.''
Santana went back to work, pulling hangers from her closet, tossing shoes behind her shoulders. Kurt dodged them before he got the message. She was kicking him out. He left, though not before he left her a little message.
Using a stray tube of lipstick from her counter he found himself writing on her mirror.
''Who do you think you are?'' he wrote elegantly in a bright red shade.
Several minutes later she found it, large and loopy. She didn't get the point of his message, she just figured he was being obnoxious and cryptically preachy. Whatever. She yanked a moist toilette from her makeup tray and started wiping the surface down.
It was a lot harder than it looked like it was on Drag Race that's for sure as she struggled with the streaks it left behind. After awhile she started to put force into her scrubbing, using her frustration to fuel her, grunting and gritting her teeth with each small but firm movement of her arm.
Finally after many aggravating minutes she was able to see her own reflection clearly.
It wasn't pretty. It was sad and heartbroken and empty.
She didn't want to be these things. She didn't want to go back to pushing people away or letting herself suffer in silence. She had come so far from all of that and there was no way now she was going to go back and for what, and for who?
Some old lady who couldn't, wouldn't see beyond herself, who'd rather stay stagnant than grow. Her grandmother was simply content to exist in her own limited world with her limited view, refusing to evolve for herself or anyone else.
And Santana, Santana realized she had to be better than that. She didn't want to ever turn into that. To someone cold or turned off from the world and those who were in it.
Is losing her grandmother was the price she had to pay, then that's what she would do, because after finding herself and knowing herself there was no way Santana would ever be able to go back to before. To before Brittany. Before Kurt. Before she understood what freedom felt like.
She didn't want to look at herself in the mirror in 30 years only to find she had grown into something distant or heartless. In 30 years she wanted to look in the mirror and be able to see something bigger and better and greater and kinder than Alma Lopez could ever hope to be.
That's who Santana wanted to be.
For Kurt.
For Brittany.
But most of all for herself.
X
''So what are we singing?''
It was a few days later and Kurt was at his locker again, this time stuffing books inside of it and struggling a bit under the weight of them. Santana had appeared and taken a few in hand to help him out as she posed the question to him.
''Huh?'' he asked.
''Well as you know after that whack ass competition the Troubletones have been absorbed by the New Directions even though you losers totally don't deserve us,'' Santana began dryly. ''Mr. Schue is making us do another duets assignment this week which is totally whatever but he said we have to pair up with people we've never sang with before. Brittany and Quinn are doing some Taylor Swift bullshit so I thought I'd ask you.''
Kurt raised a brow. This was a far cry from her aloof behavior several days before. He was pleased though a little cautious.
''You want us to sing together?'' he asked, taking his books from her and placing them neatly inside.
''I don't think we ever have so I thought ya know, why not.'' Santana pushed her body off of the metal lockers and began walking the hall.
Intrigued by her offer Kurt followed her, keeping in step with her along the way. ''That sounds like fun actually.''
''Yeah?''
''I do have one condition though.''
''We're not wearing costumes.''
''Who said anything about costumes?''
''I know how your brain works, Hummel, be real.''
''Fine, no costumes. But I get to pick the song.''
Santana squinted as if she were trying to stare him down for a good few seconds before her face cracked into a smile. ''I guess. No Celine Dion. Or Dionne Warwick. Or Patti LuPone. Or-''
''I get it,'' he laughed and threw a hand up to his side, near her face. It was promptly slapped down. ''Don't worry though, I'll pick something good for us. We can work on it tonight.''
''Tonight works for me. Brittany and Quinn are going to get together tonight too. Why don't you come over to my place?''
''You're sure?''
''Yeah. Bring some of that fancy pants bottled ginger ale with you too. It's totally pretentious but like, I love that stuff.''
''Will do.''
''And then maaaaaaybeeee,'' she sang in a strange almost nervous tone. ''If we have the time we could like hang or whatever. I've had a lot going on in my head and I haven't seen the last three episodes of Drag Race so...?''
Kurt smiled. ''You order Breadstix and I'll be there.''
X
Over the next week things seemed to get a little closer to how they used to be.
The Blaine thing was still an issue but for the most part they had found a way to put it aside for the friendship.
And their Drag Race nights. They zoomed through all of the episodes Santana had missed and then tackled Untucked. It was always more fun, bitching and hollering at the TV together they remembered.
And as for their duet they managed to pull it off. Santana was a little hesitant about Kurt's choice but he insisted and they did actually sound pretty good together on the track. She still refused to wear matching costumes but agreed to at least wearing outfits that complimented each other. She also gave in when it came to stage design. He had gotten Mr. Schue to agree to let them perform their number in the auditorium. Kurt didn't want their song to just be a song, he wanted it to be an event.
He wanted fog and flashing lights and a shiny black moving platform and backup dancers and a giant video monitor behind them displaying an array of words. It was elaborate. But once she saw it all pulled together she had to admit it was hella good because Kurt had hella vision.
''Are you sure we just can't do RuPaul's Sissy That Walk together instead?'' Santana asked backstage moments before they were to walk out and perform in front of the glee club in the audience. ''That's like such a bop.''
Kurt put the finishing touches on his hair before turning to address her. ''I love that song too but I highly doubt Mr. Schue would approve of us singing a song that mentions pussy.''
''Ugh fine.''
''Besides we have the song we practiced in the bag, Santana. We know that song in and out, plus we already have the flashing lights set up in time with the song and it's too late to change it now. Are you ready?''
''I was born ready.''
It turned out to look and sound pretty damn fabulous. Then again it could've been all the theatrics, but whatever the case the glee club members watching in the audience seemed hyped for it as the clubby, dancy tune took off. While Mike, Tina and Brittany danced on the stage neon lights blinked all around them on and off to the beat. Santana and Kurt meanwhile were, for the most part, stationary on a rotating elevated platform.
Santana knew the butterflies in her stomach were probably from motion sickness or something like that but she wanted to believe her fluttering tummy was just a sense of elation as she and Kurt sang one of their favorite RuPaul tracks.
Born Naked was the simplest Ru song to work with since it was already in essence a duet between RuPaul and a female vocalist, but Kurt had chosen it for more than just the format.
It was fun and powerful and anthemic and liberating and gay.
And them.
''Who you waiting for, another savior, always looking but ya never find-never find. Waking up from another night gone, always looking but ya never find-never find. Going downtown you know where you going, throw your top down like you know where you're going, tell me one thing do you know where you're going ignoring all of the signs?'' Kurt sang with his vocals just slightly synthesized. ''I'm telling the truth now, I'm telling the truth now. We're all born naked and the rest is drag? Who-who do you think you are?''
He pointed at Santana who took the next verse with ease. ''A lonely highway you drove the wrong way, always chasing down a fantasy-fantasy. A sexy muscle car under the radar, always looking but ya never see-ya never see. Going downtown you know where you going, throw your top down like you know where you're going, tell me one thing do you know where you're going ignoring all of the signs?''
She turned around a bit so she and Kurt were dancing back to back as they both joined in, the song building in emotion. Their hands were thrown up into the sky as they belted with a sense of liberation.
''I'm telling the truth now, I'm telling the truth now. We're all born naked and the rest is drag. Who-who do you think you are? I'll say it again it's never been the clothes that make the man, nothing can. Leave all your baggage behind! I'm telling the truth now. We're all born naked and the rest is drag.''
They moved through the dancy beat until the climax of the song culminated in a huge flash of white. It was pretty entertaining and even though their audience didn't quite know the source of the song they appeared to have appreciated the grandness of it all. Sugar threw out an especially loud ''woot-woot!'' at them. Kurt and Santana smiled and panted from execution once it was all said and done.
But really in the end Santana found she really didn't care about the applause.
It was nice and all but staring at her friend from the side she's pretty sure she would've sang with him even without an audience. Without a reason.
X
Later that day after school and under the setting sun Kurt walked out into the parking lot to find Santana laying across the hood of his car with her back against the windshield.
''What are you doing?''
Santana lifted a shoulder casual like. ''Waiting for you. Brittany took my car. She and Quinn are still putting together their song for the week and I wanted to leave them to it. Thought I'd bum a ride off of you.''
''Mmmhmm,'' he said in his sassy little way. He tossed his book bag on top of the roof of his vehicle but instead of opening the driver's side door and slipping in, he instead climbed up to join Santana on the hood.
They sat in silence for a long moment and simply enjoyed the sunset in front of them in peace.
''Thanks for singing with me,'' Santana said softly and only out of the side of her mouth as if she were embarrassed in front of him.
''It was my pleasure,'' he replied, staring ahead because he knew eye contact would only make her feel weird about it. ''I've always thought that it was a shame that we've never had RuPaul week in the glee club to be honest.''
''Totally. Then again it's probably for the best. I mean can you imagine Rachel singing Call Me Mother?''
''Oh god shut up,'' Kurt cackled.
Santana shivered. ''The glee club couldn't handle those songs, and anyway I kind of like the idea that those songs are like, our special thing.''
''I get it,'' he said, quieting his chuckles and turning more sincere. ''I'm glad we got to sing with each other at least once this year in front of everyone. It meant a lot to me, Santana. It's true you know?''
''What?''
''The song. We're born naked and the rest is drag. It's so true. Every day we perform drag if you think about it.''
''And how is that?''
''Each morning we wake up and we go out into the world, a world that already has all of these preconceived notions about who we're supposed to be. Some people put on business suits every day, some people put on ugly sweater vests every day like Mr. Schue, or weird librarian outfits like Rachel or tracksuits like Sue. It's a performance and every day we put these things on ourselves in order to be seen or perceived a certain way. But you have to ask yourself what are you doing this for and who are you doing this for? Is it for an audience? Do I move the way I move and dress the way I dress because I think it's what everyone expects of me or is it because it's who I really am? Like a couple years ago when I tried to be straight by wearing flannel and trucker hats - that was drag. That was performance. Because this...'' he gestured down to his attire, neat and fabulous. ''This is the real me.''
''And what about me? What am I performing?''
''I think you've constructed a mask. A very beautiful mask but a very harsh one as well. You're a high concept character, Santana. You want everyone to believe you're a bitch and perhaps to some degree you are, but you also have a tremendous amount of depth. You're capable of incredible kindness too only...only you hide it because the world's made you think you have to play the part of the heartless asshole in order to survive it.''
Santana shifted a little, his words having hit a little too close to the truth.
''You're a good person though and you should let more people see that. I'm sorry your grandmother can't.''
''Yeah well.''
''It's her loss, Santana. It is. You've been there for me and Brittany and-and to be completely honest with you I don't know what this past year would've been like for me if I didn't have you or your friendship. My life is better for knowing you and if she doesn't want to know you anymore it's not because you're unlovable or unworthy or anything like that, it's because she's small and ignorant and sad.''
Santana made a small thoughtful noise.
''I know it's not the same but just so you know, I'm here and I'm not going anywhere other than New York and even then, it's gonna be with you.''
Santana looked away and sniffled. Kurt spared her from having to hide it by continuing to stare forward. She was still Santana after all. This was still how she operated.
''Now get your ass of my car,'' he said, brightening up and giving her a playful swat in the side. ''We're going shopping.'' He noisily slid off of his vehicle and started opening up the driver's door. ''There's a new Bianca Del Rio t-shirt at one of the shops in the mall with my name on it and you're coming with me.''
''Fuh-ine,'' she huffed as if she were being inconvenienced when in actuality she was more than game for the adventure. ''But you're buying me a giant pretzel and something at Jamba Juice.''
''Deal.''
''And if you do anymore Gia Gunn impressions while you're trying on clothes I have permission to leave your ass behind.''
''I'm feeling my oats, let me feel my oats!''
X
A/N: welp, I popped this out in a couple of days so apologies if it feels scattered but I felt like it had to be this way.
I also wonder if anyone has picked up on the use of mirrors in this fic and how it's significant. On Drag Race of course we see the queens talking and preparing in front of mirrors, we also see them wipe off lipstick messages written by eliminated queens. There's three scenes in Squirrel Friends that find Santana in deep contemplation while in front of a mirror inspecting her own reflection. In this chapter Kurt actually writes her a lipstick message on a mirror. I'm always adding little touches like that and I was wondering if anyone had noticed lol I guess I'm a nerd who maybe puts too much thought into things but. I think it's pretty cool how that ties in.