Title: Don't Ever Lie To Me
A/N: Remember I said it was going to be two parts? Yeah, no, it's gonna be three. I promise to wrap it up in the next one...maybe. All I have to say about this chapter is...*sigh* Thanks to Breakdown6 for the last minute words of advice :)
anon: He's gonna get shit, I promise. Finn will not leave unscathed.
johndo: Thanks! I hope you can hold onto cute moments from last chapter to make it through this one ;)
tagme07: I rewatched that episode so many times, just watching how Naya acted that scene(not for this but just in general), so I could try to figure out what could have been going on in her head. Oh, and I wrote Brittana moms into this chapter for you :) Hope it's adequate. It's not finished, but a little more insight. Thanks!
hecksyea: Nope, I got all the outing angst coming at ya. Especially in this chapter. Sorry :( I'll fix it in the next few chapters, promise :)
ashleydonovan: Thanks so much. If you thought there were emotions last chapter, ummm ...good luck.
breakdown6: always hating Finn, unless they give him so form of self-retribution where he realizes how big of a douche he was in high school. I'm glad you liked that brittana bed moment, cause I tried to emphasize their adorableness in preparation for the angst. I think I've said the word angst to you more times in the last couple hours than I have in like our whole tumblr/fanfiction friendship lol
whatsyovariables: Glad you liked it:)
thetamarine: I'm not going to give anything away, but I'd just like to offer the fact that you are very perceptive in regards to Rachel. I hope that helps ;) And there will be more backlash towards Finn from her next chapter. And I agree with you about him not keeping up with her, 100%. Thanks for the review :)
As always, thanks for the new reviews/alerts/favorites!
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any characters. All belong to RIB and Fox and whoever else that is not me:)
"Have you seen Santana?" Brittany hadn't paid much attention to New Directions performance and spent a lot of the time looking at each exit in the auditorium in the hopes Santana would show up. When she didn't, Brittany was worried. Mr. Schuester left with her former teammates and it was only the Troubletones left in the audience.
Mercedes looked around and in between various Cheerio's outfits before she turned back to Brittany and shook her head. "Nope. I thought she'd be with you." Brittany checked her phone. There weren't any new messages and her concern spiked. "Don't worry about it girlie. Knowing Santana, she just didn't want to sit through Finn's singing."
Brittany nodded falsely. Even if that were the case, Santana still would have told her she wasn't coming. 'I could've ditched too,' she hated Finn almost as much as Santana did.
Ms. Corcoran stood up in the row behind them and attracted their attention with a clap. "Alright girls. We know what we're up against and after yesterday's practice," she smirked, "trust me I'm not worried. We're going to blow them out of the water."
Everyone cheered and clapped. After she instructed them about meeting during lunch the next day for one final rehearsal, Brittany slung her backpack around her shoulders and left. She pulled out her phone and sent a quick text to Santana.
(3:21 PM): Hey where are you? Are we going home?
She leaned against a row of lockers and waited for her response.
(3:22 PM) Santana: I'm in the car.
Brittany frowned, but started walking towards the front doors of school. Something felt off about Santana's text. Even though a lot of people told her it wasn't possible, she always knew she could sense how someone was feeling through text messages. She found Santana's car easily, since everyone was already gone and walked towards it purposefully. When she got close enough to see through the window, she saw Santana sitting stone faced with her hands on the steering wheel. It was an odd position, considering the car was off and she didn't seem to have noticed Brittany yet.
Rounding the front end and stopping at the passenger door, she pulled on the handle. It was locked. Brittany was confused since Santana's car wasn't ever locked. 'Maybe she was afraid someone would get in with her,' she reasoned. She tapped on the window. Through the tinted window, she saw Santana's figure jump, but the door still didn't unlock.
"Santana?" Brittany called out loudly. "Can you open the door?"
Immediately, the door clicked and Brittany opened it. Santana was still staring straight ahead, and her hands were back firmly on the wheel as Brittany sat down and closed the door behind her. "Hey." Santana nodded briefly to acknowledge her and turned the key in the ignition. They drove slowly through the parking lot and Brittany stared at Santana. "Are you okay?" she asked finally.
"I'm fine," Santana mumbled. It was barely audible and not at all convincing.
"No one is fine when they say they're fine," Brittany teased.
Santana's hands gripped the steering wheel harder as she turned. "Yeah? Well I am."
She was off put by the sneer in Santana's words. "Did something happen when you talked to Finn?"
Santana twisted her head to the side. "Jesus, Brittany, I said I was fine. I'm fine! Alright? Stop asking me questions."
"Alright," Brittany said hurriedly. "You're fine." Santana rolled her eyes and returned them to the road.
The car was silent. Santana hadn't turned on the radio and Brittany was too worried to bother with music. She kept her eyes off of Santana, not wanting to provoke her again, and focused on her own breathing.
Once they reached the residential districts, Brittany noticed they were not going in the direction of her house, but the direction of Santana's. Confused, she asked, "Am I not going home?"
Santana slowed down and edged to the side of the road. "Do you not want to come over?"
"I…what?" She wasn't sure why Santana wanted her over if she couldn't even talk to her on the car ride home.
"Whatever." Santana stepped on the gas pedal, and whipped the car around so they were going in the opposite direction. Brittany put a hand over her chest when she heard a blaring horn behind them.
"Pull the car over," she shouted. Santana looked at her again and she could tell how shocked she was. Brittany never yelled. It didn't surprise her when Santana listened and parked along the side of the road. They sat in silence again. Brittany was trying to catch her breath and Santana just stared at her. "Please tell me what's going on Santana," she finally said.
"I don't wanna talk about it," Santana admitted and glared up at the ceiling.
"This is stupid. It's me," she reached out to grab her hand and Santana jerked it away.
"Don't," Santana said.
Brittany wanted to cry. She felt the tears burning at the edges of her eyes and had to bite the inside of her cheek to halt them. Her mouth opened but all she could get out was a staggered puff of air. She crossed her arms and looked out the passenger window. "Just take me home." One tear started to cascade down the cheek that was turned out of Santana's vision. She was happy she couldn't see it.
They drove towards her house and Santana didn't say anything, although she was driving a little more carefully than she usually did. Brittany figured her outburst had scared her into being more cautious. She still didn't understand what was going on. When they turned the corner onto her street, she worked up enough courage to look at Santana again. Her face was as pale as the tan would allow, and her eyes were glistening with restrained tears. Not knowing what the outcome would be, but hoping for the best, Brittany put a hand on Santana's thigh.
Santana's leg tensed immediately. Brittany assumed she was going to reject her again, but all she did was stare at it. They were going slow enough for it to not matter if Santana's eyes were on the road or not and they crawled to a stop at the curb in front of her house.
"Do you want to come inside?" Brittany asked softly.
Santana gazed up from her thigh into Brittany's eyes. Her own were still wet and vacant. Brittany felt like the only connection they had was her hand on Santana's leg and didn't want to let go.
Santana shook her head. "Not today," she added. A tiny droplet, not even big enough to call a full tear, striped down her face and hung at the edge of her chin.
Brittany disconnected her hand and wiped it away from Santana's face. "Okay." She wanted to scream 'What's wrong!' but thought better of it, knowing Santana would tell her when she was ready. 'Or not,' she figured. For the first time, she really regretted making her "no pushing" policy. She settled for asking, "Did I do anything wrong?"
With a tiny smile, Santana whispered, "No B." The tears in her eyes thickened, creating a heavier gloss.
Brittany leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek once. And then a second time, for longer, before sitting back and opening the door. "I love you."
She wasn't surprised when all Santana did was nod. That's what solidified the idea in her mind that whatever happened, had to do with them. She got out of the car and shut the door gently. Santana didn't look at her again. All she did was pull away from the curb smoothly and drive away.
All Brittany did was watch her go, because it was all she could do.
Xx
The next day it was like nothing happened. Santana picked her up, as groggy and miserable as she did every other day, and they settled into comfortable conversation. Brittany was too afraid to bring the day before up, so she ignored it. Obviously Santana was doing the same thing. At school, Brittany gave Santana her last morning-kiss like she always did, and they got out of the car.
When they walked into school, Santana linked their pinkies in the same familiar fashion as usual. But Brittany noticed the firmer hold with which their fingers were locked together. It felt like Santana wouldn't break the gesture even if a three hundred pound linebacker charged in between them. All the worry moved to the forefront of her mind and she watched Santana out of the corner of her eye. Something was very wrong; she didn't know what it was, but she could feel it.
"I really think we would have a better chance, if I was singing," Sugar protested to Mercedes. Even Shelby rolled her eyes. Santana wanted to smack her, but Brittany's laughter sated the desire.
"Maybe next time," Shelby offered halfheartedly. Mercedes shook her head subtly towards Santana and she laughed.
"Or never," she said harshly. Sugar pouted and took her dress off the hanger to go change in the locker room. Sue had promised Santana and Brittany the Cheerio's locker room if they needed it, and they couldn't think of a reason to refuse her. If Sue was offering, they were going to take it.
"Are you nervous?" Brittany walked up next to her and smiled.
Santana ran her hand along the edges of the dress still hanging on the rack. Shelby took their measurements yesterday and promised to make them look good. 'Woman can deliver,' she thought, examining the stunning black material. Santana shook her head easily. "I'm not nervous."
"You think we have a shot?" Brittany asked.
Santana made a smug face. "Are you kidding me? We have more than a shot. We're winning. Count on it."
Brittany laughed and the noise made her smile. Even if she had been pretending to be happy all day, Brittany was always the exception. She was glad she hadn't brought up the day before; Santana wasn't ready to talk about it yet. She wasn't ready to talk about how she had been walking around all day, avoiding stares and stiffening every time someone laughed near her. Santana was waiting for the consequences. They had to happen at some point and until then, she was okay with pretending.
"Well then you're more confident than I am," Brittany said. She picked up her dress and started walking towards the doorway. "Can you help me do my hair?"
Santana nodded. "Of course." When she picked up her dress, she was stopped by Shelby coming into the room with a tortured look on her face.
"Santana," she said, "Coach Sylvester needs to see you in her office."
"Can't it wait," she asked exhaustedly. Her arms hung and she tossed her head back. "We have to go on in like ten minutes."
Shelby looked at her somberly, and she said, "You need to go."
"Fine," Santana grumbled and handed her dress to Brittany. "Hang on to this, I'll be right back."
Brittany grinned at her and they walked out of the room together. Brittany went one direction and she went the other. Shelby's office was only a few classrooms down from Sue's so Santana didn't have to walk very far. When she got there, the door was shut so she knocked. She was expecting the usual "come in!" that Sue normally shouted from her desk and was shocked when the door was pulled open, revealing her very distraught looking coach.
Her arm extended back and into the room, so Santana passed in front of her. When the door was shut again, Sue instructed her, "Have a seat, Santana."
Santana's heart was pounding in her head. 'Is someone dead?' she wondered. Her eyes followed Sue as she walked to the opposite side of her desk and sat down in the desk chair. The air in the room was still and Santana saw Sue must have closed the blinds before she came in. It didn't help to calm her her breath caught. 'This is it,' she thought, 'someone told Coach. I'm going to get kicked off the squad, and become a loser.' The drumming of Sue's fingers against the binder on the desk put her on edge. She didn't understand why she was drawing it out. 'It's part of my punishment,' she decided.
"You're aware of my campaign for Congress, correct?" Sue asked out of the blue.
Santana let out a frustrated breath. "Are you kidding me? Coach, I have a performance right now."
"I'm not finished," Sue said calmly. It was weird. With an outburst like that, she was usually berated or yelled at. "I'm sure you're aware of the slanderous televised endorsements facilitating attacks on fellow opponents." Santana nodded. "Well, someone has targeted me this time. And in turn, targeted you."
Santana narrowed her eyes. "I don't understand."
"Apparently, someone overheard a conversation yesterday between you and Finn Hudson."
Her blood ran ice cold. Santana's hands started to tremble worse than they had the day before. She was trying to piece it together, but struggled with forming coherent thoughts. "I-I don—"Her words came out in a jumbled mess. It was like her body knew she should be reacting violently and feeling threatened but her mind couldn't process it. "Conversation," was the only word that came out clear.
"I can't help but think this is my fault," Sue said sadly, "and I want to apologize for that. I was sent a tape of the commercial and I thought it was best to show you before it was broadcasted on every TV station across the tri-county area."
Sue stood up and walked behind her somewhere. She didn't want to look. She was sure her head couldn't even turn that way anymore. All of Sue's words were falling apart in her head and the only ones she was sure of were, "every TV station."
A television flickered on behind her head and Santana shut her eyes. If she couldn't see it, it didn't exist. That philosophy worked when Brittany taught it to her when they were five, so why couldn't it now?
"Santana," Sue urged gently.
She took a deep breath and turned around. Sue pressed a button on the VCR and the screen sprung to life. Santana tried to take in all the images but the announcer was talking very fast and it was hard to keep up. A lot of the pictures were of Sue and for a second she felt a glimmer of hope that maybe Sue was misinformed. Maybe it had nothing to do with her, and Sue was the only target.
Then why did you promote a lesbian student as your head cheerleader?
She always hated their freshman Cheerio's picture. And there it was, with a large red circle pointing her out. Santana wanted to smash the screen. If she smashed this screen, that meant it wouldn't be seen on any other screen right? Sue was staring at her, and for once, she didn't care about showing weakness. Her tears fell; hot, blistering drops of water singeing her face as they tumbled down onto her skirt. Even if she wanted to see the rest of it, she couldn't through the watery blanket encasing her eyeballs.
The VCR clicked. Sue took a step closer and reached a hand out, Santana guessed to put it on her shoulder for some sort of comfort. It didn't matter, because she was alreadyon her feet and whispering, "I can't believe this is happening." She barreled past Sue and out into the hallway. She had struggled with the door and it slammed open against the brick wall as she ran towards the bathroom.
The swinging door gave way and she stumbled into a stall. On her knees and clenching her sides, she heaved over the toilet and nothing came out. She wretched again, and still nothing. With a dull thud, her head dropped against one wall of the bathroom stall.
She begged the tears to stop coming, but they wouldn't. It was like someone turned on a switch somewhere she couldn't find and broke off the handle. After about sixty deep breaths, she finally started breathing calmly, but the tears were still flowing. Next, she checked her heart. It had stopped beating the second she saw her face on the television in Sue's office. Santana held her breath. She felt her heart thumping at the base of her throat and swallowed to reposition it. She thought it would have been easier if she never felt it beat again.
Santana climbed to her feet clumsily. Willing her legs to work, she pushed them forward and out of the stall. Santana faced her own appearance in the mirror and had to shut her eyes. Her makeup was a mess, her lips looked red and cut where she had been unknowingly digging her teeth into them, and most of all her eyes looked empty. It was startling to say the least. Never had she looked into her own eyes and saw so little of herself. She reached up and pinched the inside of her left arm. "You're in here." She thought little of the fact there was no sting.
After a few more deep breaths, Santana gained enough composure to leave the bathroom. She couldn't remember the hallway ever being so long before. The Cheerio's locker room was closer to Shelby's office than it was Sue's and she found herself at the doorway before she could even notice. Before pushing through, she prayed a little, hoping no one was on the other side.
When the door opened, Santana let out the breath she didn't know she was holding and saw that she was alone. Her dress hung on the same locker she used for Cheerio's with a tiny note hanging off the front.
Had to go. Hope you make it on time :) –B
Santana ripped the note from the material and crumbled it up in her hand. She tossed it aside and brought the dress down.
Mercedes' heel clicked against the stage impatiently. Brittany had her arms crossed and was watching Ms. Corcoran carefully. She didn't want to perform without Santana. How could they? She was one of their lead vocalists. Brittany tugged at the bottom of her dress and sighed. 'Come on Sue.'
A door opened behind the stage and everyone's heads turned. From behind the dark curtain, Santana's face came into view. Brittany's heart dropped in her chest. Santana looked exactly how she did the day before, if not worse. She power walked over to Santana with a timid expression.
"What's wrong?" she whispered.
Santana didn't look at her. All she did was walk past and say, coldly, "Get in place."
Brittany swallowed the lump in her throat and followed to her mark on the stage. A few people—Puck and Mike—called towards the stage, "About time!" She expected Santana to snap and yell back, but all she did was walk up to Mercedes, center stage, and stand with her eyes trained on the ground.
In a voice barely audible, she heard Mercedes ask, "You okay?"
Santana's fists clenched at her sides and Brittany resisted the urge to touch her wrist to alleviate the tension. "Sing the damn song," Santana bit back roughly.
Mercedes nodded towards Shelby to start the music and Brittany took a deep breath to ready herself for the performance.
She, she ain't real,
She ain't gonna be able to love you like I will,
She is a stranger,
You and I have history,
Or don't you remember?
Sure, she's got it all,
But, baby, is that really what you want
The room was quiet. Santana was supposed to sing the next line, but instead there was nothing, only silence. Brittany saw Mercedes' head turn the slightest bit and the terrified look on Santana's face. All of their friends looked at each other in the audience, murmuring their confusion. In a matter of seconds, Brittany did the only thing she could think of. She coughed under her breath. Mercedes took the cue.
Bless your soul, you've got your head in the clouds
You made a fool out of you
And, boy, she's bringing you down
She made your heart melt
But you're cold to the core,
Now rumour has it she ain't got your love anymore
Rumour has it
Santana looked at her. There was so much anguish and pain in her eyes that Brittany wanted to ignore the rest of the choreography and just pull her into a hug and drag her away somewhere they could both hide. But the song went on, and Santana's solo came up.
Don't forget me, I beg
I remember you said
I heard that you're settled down
That you found a girl and you're married now
Santana's powerful voice quivered and her eyes were on Brittany once again. This time it was different. There was a longing gaze, but also a hint of regret. Santana looked scared; the same terrified look when she couldn't sing. Brittany's heart was breaking watching her struggle through the lyrics, knowing they were hitting home somewhere she didn't understand. She wanted to tell Santana to look away; that staring at her was obviously making things worse.
I heard that your dreams came true.
Guess she gave you things
The pause was heavy. Brittany felt the deep breath like she was taking it into her own lungs. It hurt her just like it was obviously hurting Santana.
I didn't give to you.
Rumour has it
Mercedes' voice must've snapped Santana back into the moment because she fell back into the group and followed the routine. Until she had to sing by herself again.
Don't forget me, I beg
Santana's eyes were on her again. The lyrics resonated in Brittany's mind and she wondered if they were supposed to be taken literally. It didn't make sense.
Never mind, I'll find someone like you
I wish nothing but the best for you too
Don't forget me, I beg
I remember you said,
Sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead,
Mercedes moved to the front of the stage and stood singing her final notes. Santana seemed focused on something in the audience as she walked forward.
Sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead.
Standing next to Mercedes, Santana was definitely looking into the audience. Before the song even ended, she hopped down off the stage and immediately started screaming in Finn's face. Brittany stepped forward, debating if she should follow Santana down and try to restrain her.
Rachel was terrified having Santana a foot away and screaming. Finn looked dumfounded.
"What did you just say to her?" Santana was pointing into his face and shaking with what appeared to Brittany as rage. Her feet carried her a few steps forward to the edge of the stage.
Rachel spoke innocently, "He was just saying you were incredible."
"No, you're lying," Santana shook her head, "did you tell her too?" Brittany could hear the desperation in her voice.
Mr. Schuester and Ms. Corcoran stood up from the back row of the audience. "Santana," he said.
Santana started shouting again, "Everyone's going to know now, because of you!" Brittany finally understood why Santana was so broken. Finn had told someone, or everyone as Santana was yelling, about the two of them. Finn had outed her. Her hatred for him grew in an instant and she followed Santana down off the stage.
Rachel looked at Finn in confusion. Slowly, Brittany watched her catch on to why Santana was so upset and her expression of perplexity morphed into one of complete anger. She somehow sat further away in the seat right next to him.
Finn tried to defend himself. "The whole school already knows."
Santana's ragged words cut off the end of his sentence. "Not just the school, you idiot, everyone."
"What are you talking—"
Santana slapped him across the face. Hard. The room paused momentarily and everyone sat in silence. Even Santana didn't seem to move. When time started up again, Santana ran from the room and out the side door.
It took Brittany no time at all to follow her. She ran, flinging her heels off as she went so she could run faster, and followed Santana into the girl's bathroom. Pushing through the door, she saw Santana standing in front of the mirror staring down into the sink. She had a hand on either side strangling the porcelain in between her fingers. Brittany couldn't move out of the doorway.
"Santana," she said softly.
Santana snapped her head to the side. Expressive eyes that had been more or less serenading her in the last ten minutes were cold and lifeless. "Get. Out."
"No," Brittany said resolutely and stepped forward. Santana backed up. They were dancing again.
"Please Brittany." Santana's voice sounded even more hurtful when it was so broken.
"No." She wasn't leaving. Not without any explanation.
The door pushed open slowly. Quinn came in and observed the scene cautiously. Her eyes lingered on Brittany longer than they did on Santana. Her eyes were not lifeless, but sympathetic.
"Mr. Schuester said you need to go to the principal's office Santana. Sorry."
Santana didn't make any show of acknowledgment. She just walked past Brittany and hurried towards the door. Brittany heard her shoes stop and very quietly, Santana said to Quinn, "Take her home." Her heart dropped to the ground again. The door opened and closed as Santana went out.
When Quinn's hand fell on her shoulder, Brittany coughed. She didn't want to cry and coughing seemed to stop the tears from coming. "Come on," Quinn whispered and picked her hand up, closing it around Brittany's arm instead. Brittany nodded and let Quinn pull her out of the bathroom. She looked once down the hallway and saw the back of Santana's head enter Figgins' office. A cough couldn't help the tears that fell that time.
The living room was dark. Santana had thrown the front curtains open, just enough so she could move around without bumping into things, and pale moonlight drifted through. Her couch was uncomfortable, mostly because it was as stiff as the day they bought it. She squirmed against it trying to find a good position but knew it was useless; it wasn't the couch. She hadn't been able to shake the tremors since she left school. Every second that passed, was one second closer to the imminent backlash of Finn's announcement.
'Fucking Finn,' she thought bitterly. Santana knew there wasn't much use in getting angry; he couldn't take back what he did. She would just have to live with the consequences.
Headlights came down the street and poured through the open window onto her face. She put a hand up to block them and leaned forward on the couch to look out. The white Escalade pulled into her driveway and she sighed. Her mom was home. And she had been waiting for her. The conversation was long overdue, and she felt awkward having it without Brittany by her side, but it had to be said. Recent events pushed her forward. That's why she was sitting at 3am awaiting her mother's car. 'Now or never,' she thought and sat up fully against the arm rest.
The front door pushed open, soft, and Santana heard the sharp clicks of Maria's heels against the hard floor. Keys jangled noisily and she wondered how it was possible her mom didn't wake her up every night with the careless entrance. Then she remembered she couldn't even wake up with Brittany whispering into her ear most mornings.
The dark shadow of her mother's peacoat walked past the open entranceway and she called out, "Mom?"
"Santana?" Maria asked. She stumbled forward at the abruptness of her stop.
Santana could already feel the tears coming. 'Stop it,' she warned herself. Words weren't forming so she hoped the silence would draw her mom into the room.
Maria dropped her purse on the side table and shrugged out of her jacket, throwing it across a leather armchair in the corner of the room. Santana raised an eyebrow; she had never seen her mom be so careless with her things before. "Santana? What's going on? Is someone hurt?"
Santana shook her head. 'Me mama. Me.' "Can you just come here for a second?"
Maria walked over to the couch and sat down gently on the cushion next to her. "You're freaking me out mija."
All of her thoughts were swirling together. Knowing what she did about her mother and Anna, it shouldn't have been so hard. 'She'll get it,' Santana reassured herself. But it still felt so wrong to say it out loud. Why did it feel so wrong?
Her hair drifted away from her face and she shifted her eyes to see her mom running two fingers through it lightly. "Talk to me," she said.
Santana reached up and grabbed her wrist, stopping her comforting brushes. Even in the dim light she could see the confused emerald eyes begging her to speak. She hadn't ever had a serious conversation with her mother. And this was a hell of a conversation to start off with. There weren't any sort of imbedded instructions she could follow. Maria's wrist stiffened in her hold and started to pull away. The sensation sprung her to action.
"I'm gay," she blurted out.
Maria's eyes widened. It felt like someone cranked the temperature of the room up and Santana's grip on her mom's arm tightened. She desperately clung on, hoping Maria wouldn't pull away. The anticipation was grueling; she expected disgust, she expected anger, and most of all disappointment. That's what she was supposed to earn in response for her admission, right?
"Gay," Maria whispered. It wasn't a question. Santana guessed she was affirming it in her mind. She nodded once. "Okay."
"Okay?" Santana asked. "That's all you have to say?"
"I'm trying to wrap my head around it," Maria admitted. Santana watched her carefully. Easily, she detected what appeared to be an "a-ha!" moment.
"What?" she asked urgently. 'This isn't really a time to be quiet,' she internally scolded Maria.
"Brittany?"
Her heart rate picked up. "Who else would it be?" she retorted. She didn't know why she was so angry.
Maria leaned into the back couch cushion and shook her head. "Wow."
Santana felt herself go on the defensive. Fighting would've been easier than what she was getting out of her mom. It all seemed so obvious to Maria. "You sound like you knew."
Maria looked at her apprehensively. "I didn't, not really. I always wondered though." Santana could tell she was holding something back.
She wanted to get the spotlight off of her, and shifted onto the next topic they needed to discuss. With a bare amount of subtly, she said "I think you need to explain some things to me now."
Maria seemed shocked. "I don't know what you mean."
"Yes you do," Santana insisted.
"No I don't," Maria argued.
"Tell me about Anna, mom."
The atmosphere shifted. All of her uncertainty drifted away and it fell on Maria's shoulders. She had never seen her look so small. Santana could see the trembling; it reminded her of herself.
"Who told you?" Maria asked nervously.
"Aunt Carmen," Santana told her.
"And does she…know about?" She titled her head in Santana's direction.
"Yeah, she's known for a while. Stop deflecting."
Maria scoffed. "You told her before me? How long have you known?"
Santana hesitated. Things were heavy on her again and she took a deep breath. "I don't know, a while."
"You could have told me," her mom said quietly.
"Just like you could have told me about being in love with my best friend's mom?" Maria shifted in her seat. "What happened between you two?"
Maria stood up swiftly and yelled down at her, "Its history Santana! You're a child. You don't need to know everything about my life!"
Santana followed her to her feet. "This is a little bit of a different situation. A screwed-up situation. The girl I'm in love with could have possibly not been born, along with me, because our mothers were gay!"
"Love?"
"Yes, mom. I love Brittany. I'm in love with Brittany. I have been since I was ten years old. Now tell me. Who are you in love with?"
"Your father!" Maria shouted.
The hall light clicked on and Victor stepped into view. "What are you two fighting about?" He rubbed his eyes and leaned against the entranceway. Maria ran a frustrated hand through her dark hair and breathed out harshly.
Santana wasn't as shaken and turned on her father. "I'm gay daddy. I'm gay." She pointed at herself. "I love girls. Is that cool with you?"
Without any pause, Victor answered, "Yup."
She blinked a few times rapidly. "W-what?" Santana was too worked up to understand. "Did you hear what I said?"
"Baby, I could hear you from the top step. You're in love with Brittany. Am I supposed to be shocked?" He seemed more alert and approached them. Maria was staring at the ground with wide eyes and didn't acknowledge him when he put his arm around her. "Did you tell her about Anna?"
Maria's head snapped up. "Victor!"
"Oh what the hell?" Santana threw her hands up in frustration. "He knows too?"
"No, he doesn't know what he's talking about," Maria said defiantly. Victor and Santana rolled their eyes in unison. There was no wonder where she got that from. "That's it. I'm going to bed."
She rolled his arm off of her shoulder and started to trample away. He caught her arm in one hand and spun her around. "Mi amor, ¿por qué no le dices?" Santana rolled her eyes, it's not like she couldn't understand them in Spanish.
"No necesita saber!" Maria yelled.
"Hola!" Santana mocked, waving, "standing right here. Knowing everything you're saying."
They both turned to her; Victor with a smirk and Maria with a scowl. He looked at his wife. "Just tell her."
Maria sighed heavily. Santana knew she was giving up. "Let's sit down."
Santana walked over to the couch and plopped down in her original spot, no more comfortable than she was the first time. Maria followed and sat on the opposite edge of the couch, while Victor sat on the coffee table, directly between them.
Her mom cleared her throat. "How much do you know?" Victor looked at her, confused. "Carmen told her. I'll be having a talk with her tomorrow."
He laughed. "Go easy on her."
"I just know up until abuelito brought you home from New York. And Carmen drove up to get Anna." Santana curled her legs up in front of her and wrapped one arm around them, the other rested on the back of the couch.
"When we came home, your grandfather had forbid me from seeing her." Her dad seemed just as entranced by the story as she was. Santana wondered if it was the first time he was hearing it as well. "He didn't even let me out of the house for the first week. He had sat down many evenings and explained to me the mistake I was making. Being with her." Victor laid a hand on her leg, Santana guessed, giving her encouragement to continue. She could hear the obvious pain in her mother's voice.
"Did you love her?" Santana asked.
Her mom looked at her dad and then back. "I did. But it didn't matter. We were a Catholic household. Homosexuality wasn't just not accepted in our house, it was rejected. My mother and father spent weeks explaining the shame I was bringing to the family name. And eventually, I started to believe it."
"Why?" Santana wondered.
Maria laughed, despite herself. "I was nineteen Santana. I had nothing. No college, no job. I was already a disappointment. The Cortez's were respected in our neighborhood. If someone caught wind of my fling with Anna, it would have ruined that for everyone. I did what was best for my family."
Santana shook her head trying to clear her mind. She didn't want to think of doing that to Brittany. Even her namesake wasn't strong enough to keep them apart. But wasn't that what she did when she left Brittany at school that day? The second her appearance was threatened, she bailed. Santana hated to see the parallels between her and her mother, especially already knowing one of the possible endings.
"What about when you were allowed out of the house again?"
Victor squeezed her leg. "The first place she went was church. That's at least where I saw her first."
Maria nodded. "Anna was sitting in the front with her parents. I saw them and didn't understand why they didn't look as disappointed as mine. They looked so comfortable around her, when my mom and dad couldn't bear to even look at me. I couldn't handle it and snuck out." A bittersweet smile graced her otherwise contorted expression. "I saw someone hanging face first into a window around the back and watched him topple inside. When I walked up to the window to investigate, I saw him," she looked at Victor, "drinking the father's wine. We had a few dates in high school, nothing special, so I sat down and drank with him."
"I jimmied the lock and stole his personal stash," he said proudly, "did it every week."
Santana chuckled at him and looked back at her mother. "Didn't she ever try to talk to you?"
"She did, once." An equally pained expression replaced the last one. "At the grocery store. I was reading magazines in the line and she tapped on my shoulder. I knew who it was the second I felt it. When I turned around she smiled at me. I could tell she was scared, and so was I. All she said was 'hi' before I felt a sharp tug on my arm. Your abuelita pulled me forward and started warning me in Spanish about offending god and 'remember my shame.' I didn't have to turn around to feel Anna still standing there. I could have cried." Her eyes watered up and she swiped at unshed tears. "Then I didn't see her for months."
"Months?" Santana asked. She knew they ended up friends—after all that's how she and Brittany met—but she had a lot of holes to fill in.
"I spent a lot of time with your father. We both were a little childish," they exchanged a knowing glance, "but we grew up together in a short amount of time and fell in love. In the fall, I started college at Lima Tech and he went to Rhodes, so we weren't far apart. But when I showed up in my first class, there she was. I didn't know what to do, and I knew she saw me. So I did what felt natural. I sat next to her. We didn't talk. Every day I'd show up, sit down next to her, and we'd go the whole class not saying one word. I think I failed every test I took, worrying about what she was doing. If she wanted to talk to me or if I was being stupid by sitting there. One day I sat down and when I was pulling my jacket off she asked me about the weather. I was so stunned I couldn't get the jacket off. I just stared. Then she smiled."
Santana grinned, thinking of Anna's smile. It was Brittany's smile, so she knew the effect it could have. "And you were friends again? Just like that?"
"Just like that," Maria said. "We never talked about us. We were friends first, so everything else came back easily. By second semester, I was pregnant with your brother and engaged to your father and she was dating Tony. The rest of it fell into place."
"You weren't worried about anything?" she asked her dad.
He shrugged. "I trusted her. She didn't tell me much about it at first, but when Anna started coming around I had a hunch. They were a little awkward around each other at first. The signs were there and I asked her about it one night." He emphasized, "Huge fight."
"You blindsided me," her mom said. "It's not every day your fiancé asks if you've ever had sex with your best friend."
"Subtle," Santana added and they all shared a laugh.
"Santana now I need to ask you something," Maria said suddenly.
Her hands felt clammy and she took a deep breath. "Alright."
"You seemed upset when I got home. Did something happen between you and Brittany?"
"No," Santana shook her head, "well yeah. But because of something bad that happened."
"What happened?" Her father asked.
Santana felt her hands start shaking and she shoved them underneath her butt. The tears came back and she had to look at the curtains to calm down. "Someone at school. Someone…a friend. Someone I thought was a friend…he outed me. In the hallway."
Victor's hands balled into fists. "Who?"
"It doesn't matter," Santana said.
"It does matter," he argued. "I'm going to kick his ass."
"Victor," Maria said, "calm down. You're not going to beat up a teenager."
"The hell if I'm not." He looked at Santana. "You still friends with that Puckerman kid? I'll have him do it. What's his number? Where's your phone?" His eyes shot around frantically, searching for it.
"Stop. That's not what's important." She looked away again and picked at the back of the couch.
After a long pause, she continued, "Someone overheard him. They-they overhead him and they told someone." Her chest heaved painfully. "There's an ad, Coach showed it to me. It's going to air on TV and everyone's going to know." Tears fell down her face, and her voice shook. "Everyone is going to know. And I can't do anything. And I'm scared. I'm so scared." Maria moved forward and wrapped her arms around Santana's trembling figure. She heard her dad edge closer and he wrapped his arms around both of them.
"It's going to be okay," Maria tried to reassure her.
Victor's hand ran down the back of her head and squeezed her neck. "We'll get through it."
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." She clung to her mom's waist so hard the muscles in her arms burned. She didn't want to hurt them. If her mom's parents were so disappointed, then why wouldn't they be equally disappointed in her? She hoped if she apologized initially they would hate her less.
"You don't have to be sorry," Maria kissed her forehead, "you don't have to be sorry, baby. You didn't do anything wrong."
"P-people are going to know. They're going to say bad things about us. Why aren't you worried?" Her words were so broken and she crumbled hearing the weakness. She wasn't used to the defeated tone of her own voice.
"We are worried," Victor said, "worried about you."
Santana shook off their arms and looked between them. "But I'm screwing everything up for our family."
"No you're not," Maria said. "Your father and I aren't your grandparents, Santana. We aren't ashamed of you."
"Why not?" It didn't make sense. She should have her bags half-packed and out of the door. Maybe they'd set the timer like Quinn's family did.
Her mom cupped her face and ran thumbs underneath her eyes, clearing the tears away. It didn't stop them from flowing, but the effort was comforting. "You can love whoever you want to love Santana. It's not our place to tell you different."
"I don't understand," she said. "You're supposed to freak out. And tell me I'm an embarrassment."
"Were you not listening to anything I just said?" Maria asked.
"You stopped loving Anna because you realized it was shameful," Santana answered.
Finally she saw the disappointed look she was expecting. "That's not what happened."
"Yes it is. You love dad now."
"That doesn't mean I don't love Anna anymore." She looked at Victor awkwardly and he nodded. It looked like she was asking for permission. "I'll always love her. We had our time, but it ended. Even if it wasn't our choice, we knew there was no going back to what we were. It wasn't practical. But you and Brittany aren't us. I can't speak for Anna, but I'm going to support you."
"Me too," her dad agreed. Maria grabbed his hand. "We love you, and we love her. She's a great girl. And we're not going to stand in the way of that. And as far as this ad or whatever goes, we'll protect you the best we can."
"But you know it's not going to be easy," Maria added.
The solemnity broke Santana's heart. A minimal joy bubbled under the surface, knowing her parents accepted her, but it was buried under the severity of her situation. "Y-yeah, I know," she stammered.
"You're going to need each other more than anything," Anna advised. "Whatever happened between you two, it needs to be fixed. No matter how much you love each other, it won't survive if you aren't suffering together. I'm convinced that's why we couldn't make it work. Under all of the scrutiny, we didn't have each other to fall back on. You need Brittany, and she's going to need you."
She needed Brittany even if they weren't going to be ridiculed and made fun of every day for the rest of the year. McKinley wasn't going to be a hall of acceptance, and Santana buried her pride, knowing it was the cause of their fight. More than ever, all she wanted was to be with Brittany; curled up in her arms and safe. Other than where she was right then, it seemed like the only place she would ever feel that protection again.
"What about grandfather and grandmother?" They were a regular fixture in her life and she knew they would see the commercial. And from the story she had just been told, Santana knew they weren't going to be accepting.
"Honestly," Maria said, "I think you need to tell them."
Santana sat up. "Why?" she protested.
"Would you rather them find out on their own?"
'Kind of,' she thought. "But what if they get angry?"
"They would be madder if they had to find out that way. If you aren't going to tell your grandfather, then at least tell your abuelita. She deserves to hear it from you."
It sounded like a horrible idea. Since her aunt Carmen didn't have any children, Santana had always been the center of attention. Her brother, who had joined the army at eighteen, was almost shunned from the family for choosing to abandon them. Abuelita especially favored her, being the only grandchild who actually wanted to spend time with them. She knew if something like this happened, and she chose to keep it a secret, they would despise her even more.
"Alright, I'll tell her." Santana grabbed a hand from both of them and squeezed. "Thank you. For everything." Her parents weren't always the most attentive, but it seemed like they would be there for her when she needed it. It's all she ever wanted from them.
"We love you, Santana," her mom said, "that's never going to change."
"I love you guys too. But can you go to bed now, though?"
They looked at each other. "Why?" Victor asked.
"It's easier to sneak out when you're asleep," she said.
Xx
Brittany slept in an empty bed voluntarily most days of the week. Some days Santana wanted to stay home, and other days they curled up together. But it was different when she knew Santana refused to be there. Days like that day. The severity hit her the second Quinn grabbed her arm in the bathroom. Santana was gone.
She didn't even understand it completely. One minute Santana was slapping Finn, one minute they were standing at opposite sides of the bathroom and Santana was yelling at her, and the next she was sitting in Quinn's passenger seat, staring out the window on her way home. No one gave her an exact explanation, but she figured she knew what had happened.
"Everyone's going to know now, because of you."
She couldn't remember the last time she had seen Santana so upset. Probably the day she had rejected her for Artie. The memory made her curl up against the pillow she was cuddling. It was a poor substitute for what she really wanted to have her arms around; or who.
The air in the room shifted. Brittany hadn't heard anything but the gentle tick of her old alarm clock. They went to an amusement park once, when they were eleven, and in the arcade Brittany saw, along the prize wall, a Powerpuff Girls analog clock. She was determined to get it, and even more so, Santana was determined to get it for her. They spent the entire day there until they won enough tickets to take it home. The rest of the day, and most of the night, Santana explained to her how to read it and what hand meant what. She could have replaced it a long time ago, seeing as it failed to keep accurate time anymore, but couldn't bring herself to throw it away. So there it sat, filling her room with soft noise.
"Hi," the voice startled her and she rolled over in a rush.
Santana stood next to her bed, wearing a black tank-top and grew sweatpants tucked into her boots. Her hair fell tangled around her neck and a sheen of sweat plastered her bangs to her forehead. Brittany figured she must have been running. "What are you doing here?" she asked.
"I needed to see you," Santana admitted. "I just." A pause. "I need you."
Brittany didn't have to debate pulling her covers down and tossing her pillow aside, making room for Santana. Santana kicked off her boots and climbed into the bed. She crawled into Brittany's widespread arms and tucked herself neatly under her chin.
Brittany ran her fingers through Santana's hair and twirled the bottom curls around her hand. "Are you okay?"
Santana whimpered into her chest and she squeezed the girl's shoulder. She could feel the labored breaths her girlfriend was taking and kissed the top of her head. "No," Santana finally whispered.
"Can I help?" she asked.
"You are."
Brittany didn't want to smile but she did anyway. She rested her cheek against Santana's head and asked, "Talk about this tomorrow?"Santana nodded into her chest. "Go to sleep then."
Santana shifted her head and Brittany guessed it was so she could speak more clearly. "Do you still love me?"
Her heart constricted. She knew something bad must've happened and was missing out on a horrible secret, but it had to wait until morning. "Always."
Santana put her head back down under her chin and let her rigid body loosen. Brittany could sense her exhaustion and wondered what could have caused it. She pushed the idea to the back of her head and just held Santana close. It was all she could do.
a/n: Thanks for reading. Seriously, I know that was rough. I just hope it wasn't too over the top. Also I want to mention that in my timeline, Santana does come out to her grandmother, I'm just not sure if i'm going to write that scene yet. I'm leaning towards no, but if you want it I will. Just review and mention if you want it or not. Thanks again :)