all my dreams are coming true (now that they're about me and you)
chapter twelve
The weekend was winding down rapidly, and both Rachel and Santana were at a loss as to how to keep time from continuing its inexorable forward march. Dinner was fairly flying by, punctuated by frequent giggles, hushed laughter, fleeting glances and heated looks. Electricity crackled between them each time they held hands across the table, or Rachel focused her large, soft brown eyes on Santana's dark, smoky ones. Their chemistry was clearly combustible, and many of the other patrons in the restaurant noticed, to varying degrees of approval - not that either girl knew or cared that anyone was looking at them.
Not that either one knew that two of the people in the restaurant who noticed them were Quinn and Brittany, staring in open wonder at the easy affection and smoldering sexual attraction on display.
"Rachel's looking at Santana like she's a cookie, and she hasn't had chocolate in weeks," Brittany whispered. "And Santana looks like she'd be very happy to be Rachel's first bite."
Quinn would have laughed at Brittany's off-kilter description if it hadn't been so perfectly true. Her jaw dropped as she watched her best friend behaving like a completely different person than the one she had known practically all her life. It was mind-boggling to see Santana so at ease, so comfortable with herself and with Rachel's flirtatious antics. And where had this flirty, sexy Rachel come from, with that fire in her eyes and those wandering fingertips trailing their way up and down Santana's forearm? How and when did this monumental transformation occur?
"I know," Quinn replied, her eyes wide with disbelief. "It's...unnerving. I've never, ever seen Santana like this before. She's smiled more tonight than I've seen in the whole last year."
"You mean you've never seen her happy? Like, ever?"
"Well, no, not ever. When we were little kids, yeah, sure. But it's been a while since the last time I saw her like...like this." Quinn shook her head. "And Rachel – my God! I swear, if they weren't in public, I think she'd be crawling across the table and tearing San's clothes off. When did she become so...so...aggressive?"
"It's hot," Brittany said matter-of-factly as she split a meatball in half on her plate, then twirled a bunch of spaghetti onto her fork before sucking a long, thin strand of the pasta into her mouth, watching as it unspooled from the fork.
"It's weird," Quinn insisted between bites of garlic bread. "It's like I'm looking at two people who look exactly like Rachel and Santana, but the way they act is the complete opposite of the Rachel and Santana that I know. I feel like this is one of the signs of the Apocalypse or something."
"Well, if it is, those two probably won't even notice when the world goes up in flames," Brittany remarked dryly. "I mean, look at them. They're so into each other it's ridiculous."
As Quinn watched Rachel and Santana continue to laugh and smile and flirt outrageously within their happy little bubble, a strange feeling began to well up inside her. It made her throat tighten, her stomach flutter and her hands curl into fists. She tried to define it even as she fought back tears. Was it...jealousy? How could she be jealous when her best friend had apparently finally found the happiness that she had feared would forever elude her? How could she be anything but ecstatic for Santana?
Brittany watched Quinn watching their friends, took notice of the myriad of emotions playing on Quinn's face, flashing in her gold-flecked hazel eyes. She saw happiness, concern, pain, fear and even a hint of jealousy there, all at once. It was clear to Brittany, who knew how to read people far better than she knew how to read a novel assigned in English class, that Quinn was way more affected by what appeared to be going on between Rachel and Santana than she would ever admit if she were asked. The head cheerleader was extremely good at hiding and denying her feelings, and it made Brittany sigh with sadness. It seemed to her that too many people in her life didn't know how to just let themselves be happy, wasting so much time and energy on worrying about things that in the long run simply didn't matter.
Looking past Quinn to focus on Rachel and Santana once again, she felt her heart swell with pride at her friends' obvious lack of care for the curious stares and looks of disapproval being leveled at them by some of the other people in the restaurant. They looked so free, so comfortable and sure of themselves, so at ease with each other, that Brittany felt as though she was somehow getting a glimpse of the future: this, she realized, was how the two were going to be as adults. Self-assured, confident, completely unconcerned with the judgments and opinions of society at large. They were going to forge their own path, blaze their own trail, and somehow, Brittany knew with complete certainty that they were going to do it together.
In other words, they looked like a couple; like two people who, if they were not in love already, seemed to be well on their way to it. But she wondered, as she was sure Quinn was wondering too: when did this happen? And how? What was the moment that changed everything for them? That was the missing piece of the puzzle.
It was a mystery. Silently, both Quinn and Brittany vowed to solve it.
The good feeling continued as Rachel and Santana drove back to Rachel's house from Breadstix with full stomachs and light hearts. Neither of them had ever felt so strongly connected to another person, nor could either girl remember ever having as much fun as they'd had over the course of a single weekend. Even when they'd done their homework in relative silence, they'd punctuated their work with small smiles and furtive glances – which had, of course, led to short but heated make-out breaks that left both girls breathless. Somehow, they managed to keep things from going much further than that, but there was an ache for more, way down deep inside of them, that was getting more and more difficult to resist satisfying.
And then they were inside the house again, and Santana found herself pinned against Rachel's bedroom door with the smaller girl's lips smashed against hers and her tiny, delicate hands touching her everywhere. The cheerleader writhed and moaned with pleasure even as a part of her brain reminded her that despite Rachel's enthusiasm, the diminutive singer really wasn't ready to go all the way just yet. Santana knew that if she allowed Rachel to take things that far, she might later regret it, and she wanted the girl to be absolutely certain and knowledgeable about what being so completely vulnerable really meant.
So it was that Santana reluctantly stilled Rachel's wandering hands and removed them slowly, gently, from beneath her shirt, gasping out, "Rachel. Baby. God, I can't believe I'm saying this, but – but we need to stop, or else I'm going to lose control of myself and get you into something you're not ready for yet."
Rachel was panting, her olive skin darkened with heat, confusion warring with desire in her large, chocolate brown eyes. "What? No, Santana – why? Are you not enjoying – I mean, did I do something wrong? I...I thought you wanted me as much – as much as I want you."
Santana shook her head. "Are you kidding me, Rachel? I want you more than I've ever wanted anyone in my life. I'm so turned on right now that I can barely keep myself standing upright. But – I don't think you're ready for this yet. You might think you are, but you're not, Rachel. I know you. You're caught up in the moment, thinking that if we don't do this now, we might never get another chance, because you think we're going to go back to school tomorrow and things are going to go back to the way they were before the other day in Glee."
She paused to make sure that Rachel was listening, and breathed a silent sigh of relief that the confusion in Rachel's eyes hadn't been replaced with hurt. Then she continued, knowing that she had the girl's complete attention.
"Which, I assure you, they won't. But look - we...we just got together. We need to get to know each other more before we get, like, super intimate. I couldn't live with myself if I didn't give you the experience you deserve, and right now, as much as I want you, I...I can't, because I'm not sure you know what it really means to give yourself to someone like that, to be that vulnerable. And until you do, there's a risk that it's not going to be as beautiful and special as it should be for you. Yeah, I know we've done a lot already this weekend, but trust me - that's nothing compared to what I want to do with you, when you're ready."
Rachel bit her beautiful, kiss-swollen lower lip, and Santana struggled to control the powerful urge to kiss her again.
"I...I'm not pretending here, Santana. For the first time, I...I know what real, true desire feels like. It's...it's like a hunger, a need that won't go away. The more I touch you...kiss you...feel you...the more I want to keep doing all those things. But you're right – I keep pushing the moment, because I'm afraid this will all slip away and vanish into thin air the second you leave here. You'll leave me alone with my fears and my insecurities and I'll drive myself crazy wondering if you really feel the same way about me as I feel about you. Because I have never, ever felt as insanely attracted to someone as I am to you, and I...I can't help but question whether it's even possible for an amazingly gorgeous, smart and sexy girl like you to be as attracted to me - or at all, really."
A single tear traveled down Rachel's cheek as she spoke, and Santana's heart broke a little, because after all, hadn't she been one of the people responsible for Rachel's insecurity and self-doubt? The constant, relentless taunting and teasing, the daily name-calling and the slushy attacks – they had all really done a number on the girl's self-esteem. No wonder she was afraid of what would happen when the bubble of happiness in which they had existed for the last couple of days finally dissolved: she had come to expect disappointment in every social situation except Glee, which was the one place where she felt valued and respected by her peers. What reason did she have to think that this would be any different?
She took Rachel's hands in her own again and brought them to her lips, tenderly kissing the tips of her fingers. The she looked Rachel straight in the eye, locking their gazes together with so much intensity that the girl couldn't look away if she tried.
"Escúchame, Rachel. Sé que es difícil que confíes en mí - que confíes en nadie - después de todo lo que has pasado, pero te lo juro, mi estrella, que te estoy diciendo la pura verdad cuando digo que me preocupo por ti , mucho. Has cambiado lo que soy por dentro en tan poco tiempo. Ahora que he empezado a conocerte mejor, nunca puedo ser la persona que era antes. Te juro por todo lo que es bueno en este mundo que la chica que te ha herido y humillado se ha ido para siempre. No hay ni un solo pedazo de ella en mí, y el hecho que una vez existió... bueno, la idea realmente me da asco. Nunca mas voy a dejar que nadie te haga daño, te intimide o te acose de ninguna manera. Si alguien solo piensa en decir o hacer algo que pudiera perjudicarte, dentro de las paredes de ese maldito manicomio que llamamos escuela, voy acabar con ellos. Completo y totalmente. Tu, querida, has puesto tus mano en mi alma y estoy muy agradecida por eso. No soy perfecta - probablemente siempre tendré mis momentos malos, y estoy bastante segura de que nunca seré capaz de purgar toda la furia que hay en mí - pero tienes que creerme, Rachel Berry, cuando digo que pudiera enarmorarme de ti. Es mas creo que ya lo estoy haciendo."
Rachel blinked at the sudden explosion of heartfelt Spanish words from Santana. It sounded beautiful, but she didn't know what it all meant. She was only able to pick out a couple of words despite having studied diligently in Mr. Schuester's Spanish class, before he switched over to History.
"I'm...sorry? That was lovely, Santana, but as much as I'm embarrassed to admit it, I have very little idea of what you just said."
Santana laughed at the adorable look of confusion on the other girl's face.
"I said: listen to me, Rachel. I know it's hard for you to trust me – to trust anyone – after everything you've been through, but I swear to you, my star, that I am telling you the absolute, stone cold truth when I say that I care for you, very much. That you've changed who I am on the inside, even in such a short time. I can never be the person I used to be ever again, now that I've gotten to know you. I swear to you, by everything that's right and good in this world, the girl who hurt and humiliated you so often is gone forever. There isn't a single, solitary trace of her left in me, and the fact that she ever existed at all...well, the thought of it actually makes me sick. I am never, ever going to let anybody else hurt you, bully you, or harass you in any way, not ever again. If anyone even so much as thinks of saying or doing anything to hurt you inside the walls of that freaking insane asylum we call a school, I will ends them. Completely and totally. You, dear, have put your hand on my soul and I am so, so grateful for it. I'm not perfect – I'll probably always have my bitch moments, and I'm pretty sure I'll never be able to purge all the anger that's in me – but you have to believe me, Rachel Berry, when I say to you that I could very easily fall in love with you, and in fact, may have already started to do just that."
Rachel let her tears flow freely now. She caressed the smooth skin of Santana's face in wonder, as though she were something she'd never seen before.
"Oh, Santana. I...I can see myself...falling in love with you too." Rachel's voice was barely more than a whisper. Her eyes pleaded for understanding as she continued. "I know, I know, everything's happening so fast, and yes, it's sudden and it's scary and it makes me feel a little crazy sometimes, but you...you've brought something out in me that I didn't even know existed. It's – it's like I've been living outside of my body for so long, and now, suddenly, wham! Every time I'm near you, every time I touch you, every time you look at me a certain way...I get slammed back into my body and I feel everything all at once, and it's so powerful, so overwhelming, that I almost forget how to breathe."
Santana stared at the naked vulnerability that showed in Rachel's face, in the haunted, yet hopeful eyes looking into her own. Once again, Rachel was putting everything on the line to her, giving her everything the old Santana would have needed to crush her spirit completely. She marveled at the girl's bravery; of course she knew exactly what she was doing, and clearly, she didn't care. She was willing to put her heart in Santana's hand, damn whatever the possible consequences might be.
"And...and maybe you're right. Maybe I'm not...completely ready to be fully intimate just yet. But God, I want to be. I really do. I want to give myself to you, Santana, when the time is right. I think we'll know when that time is. In the meantime, you'll have to be the strong one where this is concerned, because honestly? In spite of what I just said, the truth is that I can barely control myself at this point."
Rachel chuckled weakly as Santana gently reached to wipe away her tears with the pad of her thumb. "I'm such a mess. You must think I'm, like, so lame, being all needy like this. I've always been this way, and I don't know how to stop. I just want things too much. I want everything too much. It's what makes people dislike me, I know, because they don't understand. They don't understand what it's like to have this kind of passion in them. It's wonderful and terrible at the same time. Wonderful, because when I just let it take over, it's absolutely exhilarating, like the world just falls away and I'm flying, soaring over everything and everyone and nothing can get to me. But terrible too, because it sets me so far apart from everyone else, and people can't relate. There's this huge gap between me and the rest of the school, and no matter what I do, I can't bridge it."
Santana frowned at Rachel's words. She had really come to hate hearing the girl run herself down like this. Silently, she vowed to do whatever it took to help heal the wounds that had been inflicted upon Rachel since childhood – especially the ones she had suffered since the first day she'd set foot inside the doors of McKinley High. And there was no better time to start than right now. She grasped Rachel's shoulders in a firm grip, surprising her, and took a deep breath.
"No. That's crap, Rachel. You said it yourself. They don't understand. That's not your fault – it's theirs. Every single person in that school, if they're honest, wishes they had a fraction of your talent, your intelligence, your drive. Those things will get you out of this god-forsaken shit town and onto the Broadway stage one day, while the people who spend their time thinking of new names to call you and which flavor slushy to throw this week will be here, living sad little lives behind convenience store cash registers and gas pumps, wondering how the fuck Rachel Berry climbed to the top of the world even as they went nowhere in record time. You want everything because you know you're worthy of it. And they know it too. And they hate you for it. But more than that, they hate themselves even more. I know, because I was one of those people, remember?"
The wide-eyed stare she got told her how stunned Rachel was at these words.
"I knew who you were before I joined Glee, you know. I'd heard all about the tiny midget girl with the huge voice who thought she was so much better than everyone else. And I was this walking cliché, the fucking sorry-ass bitch who hated herself for so many reasons: because I was gay, because I was too afraid to admit it, because I was scared of my family and everyone else and what they would say about me if I ever dared to come out. And there you were, all full of yourself, walking around that school with your head up high no matter what anyone said or did. And it made me so angry. It made me think, how dare she? How dare that Rachel Berry girl be happy with herself when I'm so fucking miserable I can barely force myself to get out of bed most days?"
She paused to swallow down the guilt and pain that rose in her throat like bile. It was a vile, bitter taste, and she needed to spit it right now, get rid of it forever, as though sucking the poison from a snake bite. Her grip on Rachel's shoulders tightened just a little, and her voice took on an urgent, almost desperate quality as she continued on.
"Yeah, that was me, Rachel. That's who I was. You were an easy target, and the fact that you never did anything to fight back, because it made you the bigger person even though you're, like, a foot shorter than everyone else, just got me angrier, made me hate myself even more for doing all that shit to you. Every time I called you 'man hands' or 'RuPaul' or whatever, it just made me shrink a little more inside. And I would think, how can this be? How can she be so much braver than me? And while I told myself I hated you, like I said before, the truth was that it was me I really hated all along. I guarantee you, Rachel, that's the same thing every single person who's ever tried to knock you down has thought, deep down inside. They all want desperately to bring you down to their level, because that's the only way they'll ever be anywhere near as good as you."
Rachel shook her head. "No, no, Santana – that's crazy. You're so talented. You have an amazing voice, you're an incredible dancer, you're far more athletic than I could ever be. If anyone in the Glee Club is as good as me, it's you."
Santana's eyebrows rose in shock. "Me? Not Mercedes, or Kurt, or Tina?"
"They're all exceptionally gifted as well, I admit, but you're the only one I can honestly say approaches my level of talent. Mercedes and Kurt are wonderful singers, but they can't dance like you. And while Tina is a very good dancer, her voice, which is quite lovely and very pleasant to the ear, doesn't have the power yours does. Your voice sends shivers down my spine every time you sing."
Santana couldn't help but smile widely at this admission from Rachel. Mr. Schuester had once told her privately that Rachel possessed the finest voice McKinley High had ever heard, a once in a generation kind of voice. And here was the owner of that voice telling her that she was just as good? It made her heart swell with pride and affection for the little diva. That was Rachel – people thought of her as self-involved, but in reality, she was the kindest, most generous person Santana had ever known, always complimenting and praising her friends' efforts even as she exhorted them to work as hard as they could to become even better. Problem was, most of the time, they heard only her criticisms and ignored her praise. That would have to change.
"Wait, wait – as much as I appreciate the praise, and please, keep it up – this conversation isn't about me. It's about you. Or, really, you and me. It's about honoring whatever this is that's growing between us. That means letting everybody in school see it and know that it's happening, and putting them on notice that no matter what they say or do, they can't touch it. No one has any right to mouth off about it, and if they do, while I'm not around, I want you to tell me, okay? Tell me, and I'll make sure it doesn't happen a second time."
Rachel shook her head no. "Santana, I'm not going to allow you to risk suspension or – or worse – just because someone says something ignorant about us. I can't – I won't – condone any kind of violent action, even if it's in the defense of our relationship."
That provoked a soft chuckle from Santana. "Who said anything about violence?" she replied. "There are other, actually more effective, ways of getting douchebags to back the hell off. They're more fun anyway."
Pursing her lips, Rachel considered Santana's words. "I can accept that. But I don't want to know the details, either. I'd like to be able to sleep at night."
Santana pulled the smaller girl into her arms, wrapping herself around her in a tight embrace. "Look, tiny. What I'm saying is that when I leave this house and go back to mine, exactly nothing is going to change between us. And when we come in to school tomorrow, I'm going to be waiting at your locker for you. We're going to kiss good morning and I'm going to hold your hand as we walk down the hallway like the fierce divas we are, and everybody's going to have to deal with the fact that you and I are together, whether they like it or not. I don't care either way. It's you and me against the world, baby, and you know what? I like those odds."
Smiling, Rachel pushed herself away just enough so that they were looking each other in the eye once again. "I do, too," she said, and then she leaned forward, still smiling, with her eyes closed. Santana leaned in to meet her. Their lips connected, and the promise was sealed.
Extra special super mega thanks to my friend Beebeeborez for her expert Spanish translation assistance in this chapter. :^)