Merry Christmas dear readers!
Cruel by Foxes
Brittany's POV
Sometimes her telepathic connection with Dom is almost scary. She doesn't know how they do it. But the vibrating noise from the inside of her back pocket, brings her back from her almost trance-like state. She must have been walking for minutes. Santana's house is far behind.
When she picks up the phone, she almost starts crying. She doesn't know why. Apparently, Dom is on his way to go to the beach and spontaneously wanted to see if Brittany was up for it, too.
Suppressing tears, she lets Dom know where she is right now. He's an angel sent from heaven when he picks her up on the side of the road ten minutes later. She had no idea where she was heading to. Now she lets Dom decide where they're going. Anywhere but here.
She can't think.
Of course, Dom wants to know what happened. Somehow Brittany manages to explain how she went to Santana's house in order to apologize for what happened last night. She almost gets sick when she also tells him how Eric was the one to open the door and how he said to Brittany that Santana didn't want to see her.
"He was so sure of himself! I had no idea they've become close. But she told him about how Sierra was there at The Surface and how she hit on me. I thought Santana would talk to me about it. To anyone but him. She knows that I don't like him. I can't believe he spent the night! Have they been making a fool of me all this time? Did they hook up or something?"
"Brittany"
She turns her head towards the driver seat. Dom throws a quick look at her. It's enough to let her know that he's not sharing her panic.
"What? All I know is that he was there on a Saturday morning, looking like he'd just gotten out of bed."
"So? Brittany, do you hear yourself speaking? They aren't having an affair! There is another explanation for this. Who knows, maybe Santana and Loretta ran into Eric when they left The Surface. They all went to a party, shared a cab and then crashed at her place."
Brittany shakes her head.
"She had a headache. I don't think they went partying."
"Well there you go. She had a headache and Eric gave her a ride home. Give her some credit, Brittany… you're being paranoid."
"I'm not" Brittany sulks but Dom won't give in that easily.
"Yes, you are. And it's only because you care so much about her. It's a good thing. Just don't be silly. I don't think she deserves that."
Now that Dom puts it like that, she instantly feels like an idiot. She should have yelled Santana's name or something when she was standing at her door. Push the guy out of her way. Literally.
She sighs a heavy sigh.
"Dom… why am I so bad at these things? Sometimes I don't know how to do it all." She admits, letting her eyes wander over the ocean that she can see from a distance.
"You don't know how to do what?" Her friend wants to know. She shrugs.
"Everything" She mumbles. "Opening up, letting someone in… letting her be a part of my life. Like a big part. I know that you only learn these things by doing them. But I don't know why I seem to be the only person on this planet to not know how to handle a relationship. Or why I need so much time. Who wants to wait that long? If somebody asked me for an honest opinion about dating Brittany Pierce – I'd say don't do it. She's gonna screw it up."
When Brittany throws another look at Dom, he's got a funny expression on his face.
"Are we going to talk about ourselves in the third person?" He wants to know. "Is it that bad? Ok then… Dom Mitchell thinks you're being too hard on yourself. You're an amazing woman. Santana is lucky to have found you. If she's serious about the two of you then she's going to wait for however long it takes. I'm sure she'd say the same thing."
Brittany can't help but grin at Dom's words.
"I don't think you've ever said anything so sweet to me before." She mutters. "I'd hug you now if we weren't driving."
Dom chuckles.
"That's ok… but seriously. I don't' know why you're so scared of screwing things up with Santana. You've been doing so well. She's been understanding and patient, right? She's a good one, Brittany."
Brittany closes her eyes.
That's the thing. Sometimes she thinks that Santana is simply too good for her. It's too good to be true.
"But I do have one question" Dom breaks her thoughts.
"Yes?" She asks, slightly scared about what is to come now.
"Just why are you wearing your helmet?"
Brittany's hand shoots up to her head and collides with the hard shell of her bicycle helmet.
"Ow – I forgot I was wearing it. I drove to her place with my bike. Which is… still up there. Damned."
Dom suggests going back so she can get it. But she can't possibly show up there again. Now right now. She made a complete fool of herself. Going back now bears the risk of running into them and having to explain why she ran away. She doesn't think she's ready to hear about why Eric was there. Even if was all just innocent. She's not ready. To see his stupid face.
She'll go back to get her bike in a couple days.
When she's back in control of her own behavior. And feelings.
After spending a couple hours at the beach, Dom drops Brittany off at her place. It felt good to just sit there or walk along the shore with her best friend like they used to do countless times. It took her mind off things.
But when she finally lies down on her small couch, she realizes that her throat is a little sore. That's weird. She never has that.
Never.
She's never sick, she never gets a cold.
It looks like she'll have to make herself a cup of tea but before that she checks her phone for the first time since this morning. There's a call from Santana and a voice message.
Brittany closes her eyes when she presses the button to play it. Santana's voice sounds less cheerful than usually.
"It's me… I really wanted to apologize for leaving early last night and to say that… that I miss you. Like… crazy. I should have stayed so we could have talked about things. But I was upset and my migraine was killing me. I'm still recovering. My sister called Eric to come pick us up and we all fell asleep at my place. I was just glad I made it home… anyways, I hope you're ok, too. Are you? Well, let me know if you want to hang out tonight or… tomorrow. Or if you don't want to see me. I don't know. I'll stop talking now. Bye."
Brittany puts the phone down on her chest, gazing up to the ceiling.
Dom was right… of course. But then why did Eric say that Santana didn't want to see her? Just to demonstrate something?
Brittany doesn't think she can handle the jealousy thing. She never had to deal with it before. It kind of sucks.
She's just glad she's alone right now. She needed it.
Dom asked her if she wanted to go out again tonight because Kurt has to work. But lately Brittany has kind of had it up there. Just everything about going out on a Saturday night. The loud music, the lonely people, the glances, the flirts you get to watch or participate. It's all fun for a while. Until you've seen it.
She loves the idea of just watching a good movie or cooking something nice. Of course it would be better with Santana. But tonight she needs to be alone. She's been so caught up in work and grandma and spending time with Santana, that she kind of forgot to take time off. Just for herself.
It's something she has always needed to regain energy after long days of work or stressful situations. Just being alone.
She'd give a lot right now for spending a couple days on a lonely island. Or in the garden of her grandma's house. Just doing things she loves, being outside. Without having to worry about making money for example.
It's not like she can complain. She's got as many jobs waiting in line as never before. She doesn't actually have to worry. But it's almost like she'd rather do her job for free. Just for herself. Where not everything needs to be perfect. Where it's ok if something goes wrong.
But that's not going to happen. She's got rent to pay for as well as for food and all kinds of things. She needs those jobs. She doesn't have to daydream about islands and gardens.
At least not for now.
When her eyelids get heavy, she thinks to herself that she'll close her eyes for a couple minutes and then call Santana back. She wants to let her know that she misses her, too. She just needs five minutes.
She awakes with a start. There's a loud noise coming from outside.
It takes her a couple seconds to realize it must be a motorcycle with a loud engine. When she sits up on the couch, she immediately senses how her shirt is damp.
It's dark in her living room. She must have slept for hours.
A quick look at her watch confirms her suspicion. It's almost midnight.
How did she not wake up sooner? Has she been that exhausted in the past couple days?
When she gets up on her feet, she realizes that she's actually cold. Cool night air is filling her small apartment because she left the window open. Usually she loves that. But since her shirt is sticking to her skin, it makes her shiver. Does she have a temperature or something?
When she swallows for the first time, she wants to say some nasty curse words because it hurts like hell! The only reason she's not saying the words out loud is because she knows it's going to be painful. It feels like she swallowed sandpaper.
Her head is glowing when she touches her forehead. And also, she's sick to her stomach.
Great… this is what she needed. Aren't weekends there to recover instead of feeling like shit?
With weak legs she slurps into the bathroom. Quickly she gets rid of her drenched clothes, steps into the shower and spends the next ten minutes, shivering under the warm water.
Last time she had a hot shower was with Santana. Normally she only takes cold showers. But right now she thinks she's going to turn into a icicle if she doesn't do this.
With chattering teeth she wraps two towels around herself, goes straight to bed and pulls the sheets up to her chin.
If she gets really hot in there, maybe she can sweat it all out and she'll be fine in the morning.
Santana's POV
It's Sunday evening when Santana can't take it any longer. She's been staring at her phone for the past seven minutes but still no sign of life from Brittany.
What if something happened to her after they said goodbye at The Surface on Friday?
Santana shakes her head. Dom would have definitely contacted her if something had happened.
She feels terrible because they didn't exactly say goodbye. Santana stormed off.
But what was she supposed to do? Throw up over Brittany's shoes? They wouldn't have been able to have a proper conversation.
However, Santana wishes she somehow had the chance to explain to Brittany why she was so upset that night. Brittany hasn't answered any of her calls so far.
Maybe she's upset, too? Or spending time with her grandma?
Santana just hopes that everything is ok. She can't help but have that feeling somewhere low in her stomach that something is up.
She grabs her phone once more and makes her way through the living room to sit outside at her garden table. She's not very positive when she dials Brittany's number so she's more than surprised when somebody picks up the phone just seconds later.
At first she's not sure it's Brittany. A hoarse voice croaks out a "hello".
"Brittany?"
"Yes, sorry. I'm sick…"
"Oh my God, seriously? What is it?" Santana's insecurity quickly gets replaced with compassion.
"Sore throat… fever… bit of nausea. Everything."
"Aw I'm so sorry. Can I get you anything? Lozenges? Tea? Pain killers?"
"No, no that's ok. I've got everything. I just need lots of sleep. I'm sorry I didn't call you back. I was completely knocked out all weekend. I'm not sure why but I guess things have gotten quite a bit stressful at work and everything with grandma… it was a lot. It was time I got payback. I'm sorry."
"That's ok, don't worry. I'm glad you're ok. Or not really ok because you're sick but I'm glad you're… answering the phone." Santana bites her tongue. "I was worried because the night ended so abruptly on Friday. I… I'm so sorry."
"You don't have to be sorry." Brittany's husky voice sounds sincere. Still Santana wishes she could see the blonde's face. "I am. I didn't want to hurt your feelings with that Sierra situation. I just… got caught off guard."
Santana nods although Brittany can't see her.
"I know. Me, too. I feel really silly for reacting that way and leaving. I wish I could make it up to you. Are you sure I can't get you anything? I could bring you some chicken soup. I know, I'm not a good cook but there are a few things that I can. Chicken soup is one thing. Or I can give you a warm hug that'll hopefully take the fever away."
It sounded cute in her head but when she says the words into the phone, Santana wishes she'd stop talking. Her hopes of getting to see Brittany get crushed when a tentative "uhm" is the first thing she gets to hear as a response.
"I'd love your hug. But I'm really feeling sick. Whenever I'm sick, I just need to be alone. It's how I've done it ever since I moved out of my parent's house. I hide in bed until it's over and I'm back to my old self."
Santana swallows bitterly.
"Alright. But let me know if you do need anything. I'll be there, ok?"
"Thank you. That's very sweet. I should head-"
"Brittany…" Santana feels like she's sitting next to herself, listening to what she's saying and unable to stop the words from coming out of her mouth. "I, I just…" Stop talking. "I hope we're ok and…" Stop. "I love you."
She can't believe the words have just left her lips. Why on earth did she say it? Say it out loud? It would have been enough to just let Brittany know that she misses her.
Oh no.
There's nothing.
Nothing but embarrassment and guilt. Why does she keep pushing Brittany?
"I'm sorry, Brittany. Please… forget what I just said." She tries to save the situation. The misery. How pathetic is this?
She's not sure but it almost sounds like a sniffle or a sigh coming from the other end of the line. Santana doesn't know if it's because of Brittany's cold or because of something else.
She's scared to find out why Brittany would cry. Did she just make her cry?
Maybe it's a good thing she can't see the blonde's face right now. But at the same time she needs to know if she's ok.
"God, I feel so stupid." Santana breathes into the phone. "Are you ok?"
Santana closes her eyes. For another couple seconds it's silent. Then she can hear Brittany's low breath.
"How could I forget that?" She asks Santana with a weak voice.
Santana shakes her head. She has no idea. No idea what to say or do at this point.
When they both don't speak for what feels like an eternity, Santana clears her throat.
"I should let you go back to sleep. It's late anyways. Please… let me know if you need anything, ok? Get well soon."
"Yeah… thank you." Brittany's voice is only a whisper now.
"Goodnight."
"Goodnight."
Santana hangs up the phone before she can fall any deeper into the hole she just maneuvered herself. She puts the phone down onto the garden table, hides her face in the palm of her hands and takes a deep breath.
She always planned to let Brittany make the first step towards confessing their feelings for each other. To maybe make things official. It should have Brittany to initiate things because she's been insecure from the start. Santana wanted to let her set the pace but she apparently can't do that.
She keeps doing things that are too forward for Brittany.
On the other hand… if Santana hadn't done certain things – would they ever have gotten somewhere? Beyond having sex on the table in her living room?
Santana sighs.
She knew things wouldn't be as simple.
Simple is boring.
But when you find the person who makes you feel as good and safe as never before, shouldn't things just… flow? Without having to worry about what you're going to say all the time?
On one hand she wants to apologize to Brittany for saying those three words. At the same time she wants to grab Brittany by the shoulders and tell her that yes – she loves her! She loves her even though Brittany sometimes isn't capable of showing Santana what is going on inside of her. Even though it has been quite a bit of a challenge to not do the wrong things, take the wrong steps.
It wasn't hard to fall in love with Brittany… it's only been hard to know how to love her right. She's still figuring it out. They're in no way there, yet where they could be.
But Santana isn't ready to give up or to let it be.
Because somehow (although she can't help but feel a bit hurt about not getting to hear Brittany saying 'I love you' back) it only makes Santana want her more. In this weird, twisted, contrary way.
She's been fascinated by that woman from day one. She won't stop being fascinated as long as Brittany makes her feel this way.
Right now she just needs one thing to make it all a little easier until they see each other again.
Patience.
Oh and maybe the ability to magically forget that small little incident where she told Brittany that she loves her for the first time over the phone.
She's better at the patience thing than she thought.
It's three days later when Santana and Loretta are standing in front of a very calming painting of this new anonymous painter who's stirring up the art scene.
Not that she's always up to date. But she does have some expensive paintings at home and has lately felt the desire to hang up something new in her living room.
The painting somehow makes her think of Brittany.
Like pretty much everything that catches her eye these days.
She hasn't called the blonde. She decided to let Brittany make the next step. Plus, Brittany promised to call Santana if she needs anything so Santana knows that she's doing ok. She just needs some time and Santana is willing to give that to her.
That doesn't mean it's been easy.
But it's ok.
"I don't know what you see in this one. It's just… blue." Loretta comments the painting with a scrutinizing look on her face.
Santana steers her eyes from her sister back to the painting.
"It's not just blue, Loretta. I'm pretty sure the artist would start crying if they heard you saying that. It's… so much more. Don't you see the different shades? They're so many layers… I love how it gets lighter in that corner on the right. That's not just blue."
Loretta huffs.
"Alright then it's blue and light blue up there."
"Cyan."
"Huh?"
Santana turns her head towards her sister.
"It's cyan. It's… beautiful."
Loretta narrows her eyes.
"Ok… do you want to buy it then? I mean it's super expensive for a piece of canvas that got smeared with several blueish shades." She suggests.
Santana shrugs, then points at the small red dot underneath the framed painting.
"Somebody already got lucky" She counters with a smirk. "But that's ok. I'm not going to buy the very first picture I look at tonight. You're lucky you found me standing here. I'll be completely absorbed by the paintings tonight. I hope you'll be ok with talking to Eric while I'm just happy to stroll around on my own."
Loretta makes a huffing noise.
"Santana, the three of us came here together! You can't just go through the gallery all alone. That's not the point of going to an opening of a new art gallery together."
"Please, Loretta… you and Eric are only here because there's exquisite free food and champagne and maybe one or the other famous person you might run into. You're not here because of the art like I am. So the two of you can go play celebrities while I enjoy the good stuff. Ok?"
Loretta playfully rolls her eyes because Santana looks right through her. Her sister gives her a quick hug and lets her know that they're going to find each other later. Once she's off to look for Eric, Santana pays her attention back onto the painting.
It's extraordinary.
Blue… she shakes her head in amusement.
It's definitely not just blue.
It's maybe two hours later when Santana finds herself gazing at the last painting. It's also very pretty. It's a special one because it's in a dark corner and gets illuminated by an ultraviolet spotlight.
She can't quite tell what it's all about. It's very abstract. It could be the silhouette of a female body? Or a mountain valley? Both?
Interesting…
"It's lovely, isn't it?"
Santana almost screams because she didn't hear anyone stepping into the dark corner.
"Oh my God, Eric. You scared me." She exclaims with her heart indeed racing. She had been so lost in thoughts.
"Sorry. That wasn't my intention." He answers with a chuckle and steps next to Santana. "That's a special one."
Santana tries to get her pulse back in control while he reaches his hand out to carefully touch the painting.
"I know you're not allowed to touch these things but… it's too beautiful not to." He says with a low voice. "I was thinking about buying this one. But where do you put it? I bet it looks like nothing in daylight, right?"
Santana nods tentatively.
"It's not for sale" She speaks with a nod towards the small note at the bottom of the painting.
"Oh, right" He agrees. "Too bad. I really like it. I've been waiting for something like this actually." He goes on. Santana throws a look over her shoulder to see if Loretta coming, too. "Something… mysterious. But enlightening in a dark place." He philosophizes. Then he turns towards Santana.
She's completely caught off guard when he reaches his hand out and puts it on her waist. With one small step he's so close to her, his face leaning in.
It all happens within two seconds. He almost kisses her, only getting stopped when Santana manages to squeeze a hand between their bodies to push his chest away.
"Eric! What are you doing?" She exclaims with a step backwards.
His expression turns from desire to confusion.
"What?" He raises hands. "Isn't this…"
"No!" She says determinedly but still in some sort of shock.
She can't believe Brittany had been right all along. Santana dismissed her hints, thinking that she was just acting a little jealous over nothing to be taken seriously.
"You've been giving me signals all this time and now you're saying I'm the one to misinterpret everything?" He says with a voice Santana hasn't heard so far. It's dark but she can still see the heat shooting into his face.
"What signals?" She wants to know with a desperation rising inside her chest.
Eric shrugs incredulously.
"I've waited all this time. Ever since Loretta tried to hook us up for fun years ago. I know you weren't interested then but… things could change eventually."
"Eric, I'm sorry if I gave you the impression that something's changed between us." She has no idea why he would think that in the first place but whatever. "But I haven't been giving you any signals. I like women. I'm with Brittany. I mean… sort of. But there's nothing between you and me. I'm sorry, ok?"
Eric looks at her intently. There's a sparkle in his eye but not necessarily the good kind.
"Oh you're with Brittany? Then why does she fool around with other women, huh? It's not like she tried to deny anything when she came over the other day-"
He stops speaking abruptly. Santana narrows her eyes.
"When she came over?" She tries to make him continue. "What are you talking about? To my place? When you were there?"
Eric looks down to the floor, then back to her face. He's clenching his teeth, she can tell. He must know that she's counting two and two together.
He sent her away without letting her in? What did he say to her?
But more importantly – why is she still standing here?
"Santana!" He yells after her but she's already hurrying out of the dark corner, through the gallery towards the exit.
It's a miracle she's not knocking over any bar tables or people.
But she doesn't really care any way.
She just needs to get out of here.
The cab ride to Brittany's place takes longer than it has ever taken before. She keeps replaying the scenes from before in her head.
Did Eric seriously think there was something developing between them? When has she ever given him signs other than 'I don't like you very much?'
Maybe he took those signs as some sort of interest? The hard-to-get-kind-of game? But she hasn't been playing any games!
When the car finally stops in front of the building Brittany lives at, Santana jumps out and runs towards the main entrance. Someone's just stepping through the door, so Santana sneaks inside without ringing Brittany's doorbell.
With quick feet she hurries the few steps up to Brittany's floor. When she reaches the right door, Santana comes to a halt, breathing heavily.
She doesn't even know why exactly she's here.
She wanted to give Brittany time after all.
But sometimes things can't wait, right? Especially when you feel like you've got something to make up for. Or when you want to tell someone that they had been right and that you're sorry. You just want to see their face and see that things are ok.
So when she raises her hand to knock at the door, her attention gets drawn to something that looks like a small paper below the keyhole between the door and frame.
Santana pulls it out without checking if somebody is watching.
She unfolds it and recognizes Brittany's handwriting.
Santana, I went to stay at my aunt's place for while. Please forgive me for not letting you know sooner. I needed some time for myself.
I'm very sorry.
B.
Santana swallows while reading the words again.
What is this? Some note from the past century? Why didn't Brittany just call her or text her a message over the phone?
Then Santana could have called her back right away and ask if everything was ok.
Oh…
But… her aunt's place? Where is that? And what's a while? Two days maybe? A week? More than that?
Is this because Santana told her that she loves her? Because Brittany knows that Eric was trying to get with Santana?
No… no, no… no!
She's sure she just said that last one out loud.
She can't believe that Brittany would leave without saying goodbye. Goodbye for how long?
Slowly she turns around and starts walking down the hallway.
The note disappears in her pocket.
She somehow made the way back to her place. It's completely silent when she sinks down on her couch. She turns on the television as she needs some sort of noise. Any kinds of voices that make her feel a little less alone right now.
Her eyes wander over the big screen.
It's the weather forecast or something, she's not quite paying attention.
She can't get a clear thought. So she leans back into the cushions, trying to not think at all for a moment.
It works for a couple seconds. Until her attention gets pulled back to the screen.
The fire weather watch that was originally issued yesterday just got upgraded to a red flag warning. Her chest feels heavy.
It's not the first time.
She still wishes she wasn't alone tonight.