Warning: Language
Note: This jumps right in, so be prepared! Also, Brittany might seem a little OOC here. I really did my best to keep her true to her character, but it's so hard, particularly in this sort of circumstance where she needs to say what I want her to say.
Disclaimer: Glee is not mine, yada, yada, yada. Title borrowed from Jason Mraz's 'The Remedy (I Won't Worry)'
The Remedy
"Wait, you're not mad?" Santana narrowed her eyes at Brittany and crossed her arms over her chest in typical bitch-fashion.
"No..." Brittany softly replied.
"Well, why the fuck not?" Her voice rose as she became increasingly frustrated with the blonde's strange reaction.
"San, shhh. Keep it down." Brittany held her right index finger to her lips and reached out to take Santana's hand with her left, but Santana swiftly shimmied away from the hand and lightly stepped off the bed.
"I would be fucking furious! But here you are, acting like it's not some big fucking deal! Brittany, you got hit by a fucking car and, might I remind you, went into a fucking coma—all because I was an inconsiderate fucking bitch to you!" She was seething now, her chest noticeably rising and falling as all her stored up anger and stress escaped.
"San—" Brittany tried to squeeze in a word, but was quickly cut short.
"No! Don't you understand what I'm saying? This is my fault. My fault! You could have died! But you're brushing it off like it's nothing!" She paced along the side of Brittany's bed before stopping and turning to face Brittany again. "Please," her voice lowered itself and went back to its original quiet tone, "be mad at me."
She sounded so small and helpless as the last words left her throat that Brittany couldn't help but flash a soft smile in her friend's direction. Even when being directed at Brittany, those words were so absolutely uncharacteristic of Santana that the blonde could not help herself from feeling a little giddy. Santana was hardly ever modest about herself and rarely ever asked for help—she was incredibly stubborn—nor did she ever really take the blame for something even when it was her own fault. It was like watching a little kid try to do something that they've never done before and seeing them fail miserably—but look absolutely adorable at the same time.
"I can't be mad at you."
Santana let out an exasperated sigh before burying her face in her hands for a few moments. She groaned before letting her hands drop to her sides. "Well, why the fuck not?"
Had Santana been acting normally, she would have thrown her arms in the air frustratedly and yelled. Rather, the sentence came out softly and there was no dramatic limb movement involved. It was fairly easy to tell that she had meant for the statement to come out much more harshly, and thus, the use of her language, but instead it seemed that she had lost control of herself and her emotions as she struggled to keep from full-on sobbing once again.
"Because, San, I heard what you said earlier. I can't be mad at you after what you said."
"Wait. What stuff?"
"About how you love me a lot and feel bad and stuff. And that you won't let anything bad ever happen again."
Santana nearly fell over. There was no way Brittany could have heard that. She was sleeping, or in a coma or whatever.
Not too much earlier, her heart felt like it had plummeted into her stomach, but now it felt like it had dropped down through her legs and into her feet, weighing them down so that she couldn't move. No, that's impossible. She was unconscious, you saw it yourself!
Summoning the strength to move her feet, she slowly began to approach the bed. "How in the hell did you know I said that? You—you—you were in a coma..."
"Well here's the thing," Brittany began nonchalantly, "I kind of heard everything you said. It was so weird. Like, at first, I started hearing bits and pieces of things, like random people talking and stuff. Then everything started to sound less fuzzy and I could hear my parents really clearly. I didn't understand what they were saying, though, or why they sounded so sad. I tried to open my eyes and tried to tell them that I was fine, that I was right here, but I couldn't move.
At first I thought it was a dream. I mean, it made sense because you came in and were talking to me and being really sweet—I dream about you like that," she added. "You were telling me you love me and that's always what happens in my dreams, but you...touched me." She stopped and scrunched her features so that lines appeared in her forehead. "I could feel you. Like, everything, and I mean really feel you. It felt different than the way it does to get touched in a dream. In dreams, you can feel it but not as much, you know? And that's how I knew it wasn't a dream. I knew that what you were saying was real and what you were feeling was real." She looked up and blue eyes met brown. "You said you were sorry and you poured your heart out, San. Even though you didn't know that I could hear it, it still counts as an apology. And then you said you loved me. All those things, that's how a real best friend acts, and that's all I could ever ask for."
Santana's jaw was so slack it must have been on the floor. She tried to form a reply but all that came out was an unintelligible string of non-coherent syllables.
Brittany couldn't help but chuckle at the sight and she shrugged her shoulders like it was nothing.
"So you heard everything?" She finally managed.
"Mhm," Brittany replied. "Everything."
"Oh."
The room fell silent and Santana stood motionless. She didn't know how to feel about what she had just been told. Should she have been embarrassed? Should she regret saying all that? Or was it a good thing that Brittany had heard everything she had to say? It was all true, after all. It was certainly easier than saying all of that to her face when she woke up. It's not like she wouldn't have said it to an awake Brittany, it just, would have been different. A little awkward maybe, and much more situational. Who knows what she would have said had Brittany been fully awake and looking back at her? It could have been a completely different apology.
But this apology felt right. Everything about it—every word, every sentence, every tear—had been completely honest. Nothing had been exaggerated and one hundred percent of the time it had been her heart talking—not her scatterbrained head that could have been spitting out random crap due to all the anxiety she had been feeling.
No, she did not regret anything. And for that matter, the fact that Brittany had heard it—even when Santana hadn't intended her to—made it that much more honest and meaningful. Not to mention, Brittany forgave her. What more could she have asked for?
Instantly, another wave of guilt washed over her. Although this time, it was a completely different kind of guilt.
"I'm sorry I yelled at you, B. I didn't mean to lash out like that," she whispered, finding the courage to look the other girl straight in the eyes.
"That's okay."
"So you forgive me for yelling too?"
"Yup."
"Thanks."
"Mhm."
Although she felt better knowing that Brittany had forgiven her, another issue had begun niggling away at the back of her mind. Originally, she wanted to ignore it. It wasn't a conversation she was really looking forward to having, but she knew that she couldn't completely ignore it forever. Now seemed to be the ideal opportunity, though. No one was around, it was quiet, and they were being completely honest with one another.
Ah, hell. Just go for it.
Santana climbed up onto the bed and sat down next to the dancer. Brittany painfully inched over a little, giving her more room and the two quickly settled in next to each other, their opposite shoulders, hips, and legs flush with one another.
Santana let out a tiny sigh that was practically inaudible before beginning.
"You know, I really do love you. I meant what I said."
"I know." Brittany exhaled a throaty chuckle before smiling over at Santana. "I think everyone knows." Seeing the somewhat alarmed look on the Latina's face, Brittany quickly added, "And I love you too."
Santana's face relaxed a little and she stared down and across their bodies to the foot of the bed.
"Well, speaking of that, there's something I kind of want to talk to you about."
"More? San, I might fall asleep at any moment."
"I know you're tired, but please just hear me out. It's important and I know it matters to you, I swear."
"Alright, fine," Brittany breathed.
Santana swallowed the lump in her throat before she continued.
"So you remember what we talked about in the bathroom?"
"Yeah..."
"The part before you, er, stormed out."
"Uh huh. Oh! I'm sorry about what happened before that. I think I was just really," she paused before turning to Santana, "overwhelmed?"
Santana nodded.
"Overwhelmed from Azimio and Karofsky, and then before that when you weren't there to get me. I was just scared. So I'm sorry for freaking out on you."
"That's alright. And I'm sorry that I wasn't there to meet you. My bitch of a teacher wouldn't let me out of class. I even pulled the 'hematologist' card, and she still wouldn't buy it."
"Damn." The blonde muttered under her breath.
"Yeah, I know, but we need to talk about what you said about me."
There was silence.
"You know, about having...feelings...for me," Santana said slowly and cautiously, as if testing the waters of the words that she had never even considered using consecutively.
"Oh." Brittany looked uncertain, and so Santana met her eyes. When the blonde quickly looked away, the Latina lifted a finger to her chin and used it to angle her head so that once again their gazes were level with one another.
"Are you sure you want to talk about that?" The dancer asked meekly.
"Yep, we need to talk."
"Well, what what is there to talk about?" Her voice was still quiet and she sounded a bit anxious.
"Let's start with how long this has been going on for."
Brittany sighed. "I don't know. We've been best friends for a brazilian years, and like, we're really close to each other, and sometimes it just seems natural to feel more than that. Do you know what I'm saying?"
"I guess—"
"It's just that you understand me more than anyone else. People don't understand that sometimes I'm a little...slower than others; that sometimes I need some extra help with stuff. But you do. You don't judge me for all the weird stuff I say and you're patient with me. You've always been that way—since the day I met you. You see in me what others don't, stuff that sometimes I can't even see, and that's what I love about you. You love me for me, flaws and everything.
Whenever I need someone to be there for me, you've always been there. Whether it's been boy troubles, or when I don't understand something, or when Coach Sylvester is on my ass about one thing or another, or like when Karofksy and Azimio were making fun of me. You were there to save the day. You're like my knight in shining armor. You always have been—and I hope you always will be." Brittany's cheeks lit up a bright shade of pink and she tried to avert Santana's gaze, but the darker-haired girl quickly guided her focus back into place.
"And I will be. I can promise you that. But how does that affect 'us'?"
"You know how I can't count higher than like, twenty?"
"You're being modest, but yes."
"Well I would never be able to count all the things that I love about you, San. That number's too high for me. And all those things I just said about you, that's hardly any. I could go on for so long. We'd be here forever. And do you know how long forever is, San? It's a really long time."
Santana smiled and laughed under her breath, "Yeah, I've heard."
"All those things I love about you, the way you make me feel when I'm around you, it's more than I've ever felt with any boyfriend or any other person. You make me feel so good when we're with each other and I like feeling that way. We're always together and whenever we're not, I'm missing you and wishing we were.
Whenever I think about my future, it's always changing. Sometimes I'm a dancer and touring the world with Beyonce, sometimes I'm a secret agent spying on bad guys and wearing sexy clothes, and sometimes I'm a motocross champion! But one thing's always the same. Whenever I picture my future, you're always there. I can't imagine living my life without you, S. I know that you always tell me it's a 'childish-high-school' thing to say, but I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Because I can't imagine how it would be without you.
That's what you feel when you really love someone, and not just in the friendly kind of way. When you love someone, you love them no matter what. There's no 'ifs' or 'buts'. You love them for everything they do and say. Love means you support them through anything, no matter the consequences. And that's how I feel about you. I'll do anything for you, San.
I guess what I'm trying to say is that you make me happy. That's the most important thing about a relationship—being happy. Why should it matter who's in the relationship? A boy and a girl, two boys, two girls, two best friends—why should it matter as long as everyone's happy?"
Santana was silent for a few moments. Her head was spinning from trying to absorb everything that Brittany had just said to her. Sure, she knew that Brittany felt that way about her before, but hearing it directly from her was a whole new ballgame. There was so much truth to it all—so much of it that she agreed with. Particularly the last sentence. Love is love, regardless of who's receiving it and who's giving it.
The Latina never had an issue with people being gay. She wasn't homophobic or anything. Sure, she made fun of Kurt on a daily basis, but that was all fun and games. It was always her personal mantra when it came to the subject that she didn't really care. 'Whatever floats your boat, right?'
"Please say something."
Brittany's voice snapped her out of her thought-reverie and brought her back to the situation.
"I—uh...you're right. It shouldn't matter. I just...don't know how I feel about something more than being just friends. I mean, what's wrong with what we have now?"
"Nothing's wrong with what we have now. But if you think about it, if we were to get together, what would actually change? Not a lot. San, we don't really act like typical BFFs around each other."
"Yeah, I've noticed."
"But haven't you ever just thought about 'what if'?"
Santana swallowed hard and let out a loud sigh.
"Well, to be honest, after you left me in the bathroom yesterday, I stayed in there for a while and thought about what you said. I guess I never really took the time to see what was right in front of me. I should have known that you felt this way. It was obvious and apparently everyone else but me saw it. I think I was in denial—too scared about what others would think about me if there was an us."
"You need to forget about everyone else. Listen to what your heart tells you."
"That sounded really corny, B." Santana chuckled, trying to lighten the mood and distract herself from the weird emotions and feelings she was experiencing.
"Yeah, I know," Brittany joined in, "but it's true. What do you want? What would make you happiest?"
"That's just it. I don't know what I want! I'm so confused lately. I try to think about what it would be like if we were together and I can't help but feel happy inside knowing that you'd be mine. I'm already possessive enough with you, if you haven't noticed. I just can't help but wonder."
"It's okay to be curious."
"But is it? I'm not gay! I never have been. I've never had feelings for a girl, but then you come along, and all of a sudden, BOOM! You say one thing to me and this comes out of nowhere and it's really confusing me. Is it possible to be attracted to a girl without being bisexual or a lesbian? Am I allowed to do that? Be straight with an exception?"
"Why does it matter what you are? You don't need to label yourself. Just do what feels right."
She shook her head and brought her hands up to her forehead and began to rub her aching temples. "The more I think about it, the more I realize that I feel different around you too. Like, I don't even know how to describe it. It's something that I've never experienced before and it makes me feel really weird and apprehensive. I've never felt this way around anyone else."
"I understand," Brittany said, reaching over and gently taking a darker hand in hers. "It's okay to feel that way."
"I don't like feeling this way, though. There's so much going on inside my head and it's all really confusing! I know that I love you. You're my best friend, and I love you that way. But the more that I think about it, the more I realize that maybe I love, er, could love you more than that. And you don't know how much that scares me." A lone tear slid slid down her cheek.
"Aww, San. It's alright to be scared," the Dutch girl cooed.
"Is it? You're the most important person in my life, Britt—my best friend. Is it okay to be in love with your best friend?" Santana was on the verge of a breakdown, her emotions chaotically scurrying through her mind. She was nearly at her breaking point: her frustration, apprehension, and anxiety all butting heads.
Brittany opened her mouth to speak but suddenly shut it. Then, her eyes brightened and her lips spread into a giant smile.
Santana raised a questioning eyebrow at the beaming girl. "What?"
"So you're in love with me?"
"I—I—I don't know."
"You said you're in love with me." Brittany continued to beam back at Santana with a smug look plastered all over her face.
"I don't know. It just kind of came out. I wasn't really thinking." Her voice was barely above a whisper as she conceded to the blonde.
"Then it's true! If you weren't even thinking about it, it had to be your heart talking."
"I don't know..." she mumbled.
Suddenly and without any warning at all, taking Santana completely by surprise, Brittany came swooping in and planted a soft kiss atop her lips. The quickness that had been used in the surprise sneak attack was all but gone as the actual kiss itself was slow and gentle. Brittany let her lips linger against the Latina's, all the while being careful not to overdo it in fear of scaring her away.
Santana was caught completely off-guard, but following the first few moments when their lips met, she relaxed a little. Although the kiss lasted only a few brief seconds before the instigator pulled away, she couldn't help but feel a little inkling of happiness amidst all the conflicting feelings of confusion and surprise. It just felt...right.
A/N: Hey, hey, looky there. ;)
I'm alive and have made it through finals! So here's your proof. I have nothing to say other than I hope you all enjoyed and I'm thinking there's going to be just two more chapters.
Please review and let me know your thoughts! Thanks. :)
