First things first, we officially have a movie trailer for this fic! I am so touched, and I am officially appointing the creator, harumad, as the Unicorn Club's multimedia division specialist and head of all creative projects :) For me, it was like harumad got right into my head, and brought all my feelings to life so beautifully in 3D, so I think everyone should go check it out! :)
Don't forget the youtube address then: /watch?v=LQKC8W8yRlU
xoxo- I really wanted to respond properly to what you said, it's kind of to everyone but mostly to you. :) I actually started writing this whole thing, because having a photographic memory for details of conversations and events means absolutely nothing unless one can see the big picture. It's like looking at a cake, and seeing flour, sugar, and all the ingredients separated without seeing that it's a cake. More to the point, I remember everything, but I have trouble interpreting facts for meaning, which is basically just the Miss Pillsbury way to say it's very hard for my brain with its limitations to form opinions. Writing it all down and looking at it helps, but for the tough stuff(aka anything related to love and relationships), I need to be around people who can form opinions, and watch how they came to them to truly learn, understand and come to terms with some things. I have no one in my real life I can do that with, because the only people I know who would listen to me tell this story to them has the same disorder, and therefore the same comprehension problems as me – telling them would get me nowhere. I also have Kurt, but I can't talk to him either because he is not fair. From the start he favored me, giving me all the chances and her none. I completely agree with you about you very much having the right to judge Santana, because unlike Kurt you actually know all the facts, and even more importantly if you ask me, you came into this liking both 'characters' which is why I feel safe here, because I was sure that this had to be the only place in the whole world people reading this would like both a "Brittany" and a "Santana" and would therefore judge us fairly.
So that's why I'm here. I wouldn't be writing otherwise, at least not with the same urgency. It's very, very helpful to me when you point out that something said was harsh, or that certain things were unhealthy, because it doesn't mean I have to automatically take your opinion as my own, it just means I can work backwards. Think of it like 2 + 2 = ?. The numbers are the facts, and I can't calculate the meaning/answer. But if someone tells me a possible meaning, then I can work backwards like this 4 = 2 + 2, because it's much easier to check if the facts do or don't add up if you know what could be the answer. That might sound a bit nuts, but when you have autism, it's hard to go about problems in normal ways, because my brain just doesn't function in normal ways.
Your opinions (and everyone else's too) are so very precious to me, because they've so far helped me find a lot of answers and I really wanted you to know that. :) Maybe not all answers are easy to come to terms with, but I'm pretty sure that everything I'm learning will accumulate and lead me somewhere. Perhaps by the end I'll have enough to find my way again. I know you're all just here to read a fic, and I'm totally cool with that, It's just you're actually helping me at the same time, and I'm not much good at being silently grateful. :P I just needed to say that.
Ps. You can pretty much assume most stuff has a real life basis and comes from somewhere. Always the big stuff, sometimes not the little stuff, or anything that sounds like a Glee related reference to ducks or something. Some dialogue is exactly what I remember, some is translated into Glee. Usually when I sit down to write, I write what really happened first, then…add stuff around it to camouflage it. I'm just lucky with being able to match a lot of stuff in the Glee timeline, using another show to do this would be pretty much impossible. Oh wait, everything Sue is completely made up! I know no such woman.
Taeblancaxoxo – Something I really love about you is that you do love the characters. I can't expect that from everyone, because… when it comes to entertainment, people are free to take a more superficial consumerist view and just enjoy it that way which is totally fine. But what I mean is, readers don't really have to love characters in that deep all accepting way like a person who loves another person in real life does. But they can, and I think that's really very special. I don't have just average readers though, and I've probably underestimated how much everyone reading this connects and attaches to this characters and really cares for them at least to some extent, and I wanted to thank you for showing me that!
I've run out of time again with all that, but thanks everyone for last weeks comments. I also totally wanted to hug Puff614 for being so sweet and reassuring …and a hug right back at Miara848 too!
Oh, and I must give a round of applause for Ascoeur's fabulous reviewing skills! I'm almost 100 reviews because of you, and it is SO exciting. :)
Another playlist. The first five are "Brittany's" choice. The last ones are from "Santana's" IPOD at the time. The very last one is still her favorite song. She's left those lines of the lyrics around for me to find many, many times, so obviously they hold a lot of meaning to her.
This chapter also definitely needs a warning, because it could trigger things in some people. The sad songs on the playlist are a pretty good indication that something is about to go down, I guess.
Chapter 15 – Two Thousand
Brittany S. Pierce, Present
Santana and Brittany's infinite playlist, Disk 2.
Sometimes using other people's words is okay, so long as you have your own too. An infinite playlist, the soundtrack to our lives, played inside my head every time I looked at her.
We are young – Fun - Now I know that I'm not, all that you've got. I guess that I, I just thought, maybe we could find new ways to fall apart/ And if by the time the bar closes, and you feel like falling down, I'll carry you home.
Jar of Hearts - Christina Perri – And I've learned to live half alive, and now you want me one more time.
Keep holding on - Avril Lavigne - Just stay strong, 'Cause you know I'm here for you, I'm here for you
Need you now – Lady Antebellum - Picture perfect memories scattered all around the floor/ And I don't know how I can do without, I just need you now.
Beautiful disaster – Kelly Clarkson- And if I could hold on, through the tears and the laughter. Would it be beautiful? Or just a beautiful disaster.
Brick – Ben Folds Five - As weeks went by/ It showed that she was not fine.
No Surprises – Radiohead - A heart that's full up like a landfill, A job that slowly kills you, Bruises that won't heal.
Ever so sweet- the early November Ever so sweet, You make this seem, The way things go. It's not my fault. And I'll miss, I'll miss you so good, All of those nights, We lost our way back home.
Always – Blink 182 - I've been here before a few times, And I'm quite aware we're dying, And your hands they shake with goodbyes, And I'll take you back if you'd have me.
Hurt – Nine Inch Nails -What have I become? My sweetest friend. Everyone I know goes away in the end. You could have it all my empire of dirt. I will let you down I will make you hurt.
Brittany S. Pierce, age 16.
"Remind me again why we couldn't do this at your house, while your family is out of town?" Santana asked. Obviously they couldn't go to her own house while Tomas was making one of his less-frequent-but-equally-annoying appearances, but she couldn't understand why Brittany's house was off limits. They had a new Glee club duet project assigned to just the two of them, and so far, it was going nowhere.
The choir room was already booked by Berry, as it eternally seemed to be, which left the school library as their meeting place to plan it out. They were no closer to reaching a song choice, even though they'd been at it all day. Mr Schuester had separated them from the group during their Spanish lesson, and for most of Glee Club so they could spend the time talking. Luckily, the Library was still open after hours, because they were running out of time, and Santana realized that they had to come up with something fast if they didn't want to embarrass themselves with a half finished performance in front of the whole club. Santana hadn't had many song choice ideas to contribute. The stuff she actually listened to wouldn't exactly fly with Mr Schue.
Having finally lost concentration, they were now sitting side by side at a desk, taking the opportunity to deface the school yearbook. Santana shuffled closer so their knees touched just slightly. Captain-Obvious-Brittany was less subtle, her hand came to rest on hers every so often in between marking the yearbook photos with a thick black pen. Brittany was sticking to only defaming pictures of herself, but Santana's horizon was much broader. So far, Santana had drawn a moustache on every single one of Berry's numerous club photos, and was scouring for any she might have missed before moving on to her next victim.
"We can't do it at my house, because Lord Tubbington's overheated," Brittany told her coming to her own picture and adding the word 'slut' just like Santana told her to. Santana never missed a chance to think of ways to give other people the illusion that Brittany had made out with everyone in the school so the other Cheerios would leave her alone. Although many, on the squad or otherwise, were now starting to have doubts about her.
Brittany surveyed Santana's moustaches on Rachel, and pulled out her social studies book to compare. Forget Hussein's, they were all thicker than Borat's, she thought. She was so relieved that she'd stopped Santana's plan to bring down Rachel by public embarrassment, before it had even had a chance to go ahead. This was their compromise, and Santana's way to get out her jealousy on a photo rather than out on the real thing.
"Don't you mean… in heat?" Santana asked. Could he actually be…a Lady Tubbington under all that fur? she wondered, the thought kind of blowing her mind.
"No…," Brittany shook her head, trying to remember what her parents had said. "I think it's overheated, like a car that won't start. He keeps making these weird noises. And he gets grumpy when he's like that until he cools down. Trust me, we're safer here."
Santana shrugged, giving up on that line of conversation for more important things. "Can you see any more pictures of Berry that I've missed, Britt? I'd hate to miss one."
"Yeah," Brittany said halfheartedly, "there's one, and there's one… and oh…. over there." She pointed three times to the same photo, at three different girls with brown hair.
Santana's forehead creased. Was she serious? Not only was it impossible for Berry to be in the same photo three times, but those girls hardly looked like her at all. They had the same hair, maybe, but the rest, no. They lacked that enormous beak. "Britts, look at them closely for me. Are you sure?"
Brittany peered closer to them with exaggerated concentration. "Yeah," she said finally, "they're all Rachel."
Santana reached over and took her hand. Seeing Berry's fat head multiple times in photos would personally drive her mad, but it was hardly one of Brittany's biggest problems. Sometimes it was easy to forget that Brittany had what the internet said was called a pervasive developmental disorder. She kind of remembered now that when she'd looked up information on Asperger's, the page had said that people like Brittany have trouble recognizing faces, the features all blurring together into something uniform and unrecognizable. She'd noticed that Brittany tended to recognize people by their hairstyle, though she had trouble with those whose hair didn't stand out in some way, like Berry's. According to Brittany, there were at least fifty Berry clones with straight brown hair in the school. The horror, she thought. All the long haired guys were also girls to her. But, that was their fault for having girly hair, Santana decided. Still… she thought. I wonder... if she could pick me out of a crowd.
Santana pointed to a photo of herself. "Who's that, B?"
Brittany giggled. "That's you silly," she said without hesitation.
"Not Carmen?" Santana asked, naming another girl on the squad with similar hair to her.
"Nope." Brittany said.
"How can you tell?" Santana asked curiously. "Photos can be confusing," she added to throw Brittany off the fact that she was talking about her disorder.
"I don't know," Brittany shrugged, "You just jump out at me, I think it's your eyes. I know them by heart."
Santana smiled at her and squeezed her hand. It always made her feel funny inside when Brittany did little things like that, because it made her feel like as a pair they were stronger than autism, and that would always mean something to her.
Seeing that people were starting to stare at them, she quickly moved the yearbook on top of their hands and instead focused on drawing a penis floating randomly beside Mr Schuester. Let him puzzle on that, she thought giggling. After a beat, she blacked it out, coloring over it heavily.
Mr Schuester had technically been the one to finally split up the parasites from Brittany, Santana thought, curious as to why he'd been so nice to her. He'd made a real effort to get Brittany sitting with her again, even going as far as to practically pry one Asian parasite off Brittany's leg and suggest that Santana take Brittany aside and start working on a duet, which was how Santana now had Brittany's complete undivided attention again, with no more freaking parasite interruptions.
No, parasprites, she mused, playing on the words, impressed with her own cleverness. Otherwise known as diminutive annoying creatures. She knew about sprite legends from Brittany's previous obsessive interest in small mythical creatures, which had came and went a few years back. Santana had her adversaries all figured out. One hobbit, one gay elf and one Japanese Yōkai. Or maybe Tina was Chinese. Whatever, she thought. She didn't see people by their ethnicity, she just saw them as someone she may or may not need to destroy. Brittany would totally believe her if she told her they were mischievous creatures out to play tricks on her and were to be avoided at all costs. But, if she knew the twists and turns of Brittany's mind, she'd also probably ask her if she knew that because she was also a Spanish sprite called a 'duende', and in no way did she want to be compared to a dwarf, she was sensitive enough about her height already.
Last week during Ballad week, the 'sprites had jumped all over Brittany the minute Santana had somehow pulled the blondes name out of the hat when they were pairing up.
Santana had honestly been excited about the ballad for like five minutes, thinking she and Brittany were finally going to hang out more again. Then she realized that ballads usually contain all that emotional crap, and no way was she going to do that in front of everyone. It was too much. Though, even if she had wanted to, Brittany hadn't had the time to practice with her. Santana sighed. Brittany had needed to practice for her dance exams that week, as well as attempt to manage her new busy social life. She'd seemed completely overwhemed by it all, and Santana hadn't seen her until she'd turned up the day before they had been supposed to perform the ballad, apologizing to her and holding out yet another of those blue roses. She had given Santana about five of them now, and maybe also a bouquet? She shrugged. She couldn't remember what she did yesterday anymore, let alone stuff from that long ago. Her memory just wasn't what it used to be.
She had to admit though, the sight of Brittany holding out those stupid blue flowers always melted her. She'd accepted Brittany's apology quickly, and had immediately wanted to ease her worries, so she had told her that there was never meant to be a ballad in the first place, the assignment was just to sing a song to a male duck. She should have predicted that this would lead to her then being dragged to the duck pond. To Santana's amusement, Brittany had belted out Disco Duck to the birds, and to Brittany's adoring delight, Santana had occasionally joined in on saying 'shake your tail feather', once even in her special duck voice.
Santana hoped to hell there were no witnesses.
The ballad had never really been an option, she just couldn't imagine herself getting up there and singing Whitney to Brittany, but weirdly enough, Mr Schuester had been the only one to sense her regret that she hadn't even tried. It had seemed like he'd really wanted to give her a second chance. Santana wanted the chance to at least do something fun with Brittany and ease the tension that had been thickly creating a barrier between them lately, she just hadn't known how. She'd never have guessed that Mr Schuester would have sought her out on Monday morning to actually make an effort and help her.
"We didn't get to hear your ballad with Brittany last week, Santana," he said.
Santana glared. "Ballad week is so over, Mr Schue. The moment has passed. Deal."
"You know Santana," he said trying to appeal to her, looking at her knowingly, "I think Brittany is a little nervous about singing in Glee club after the experience she had last time. I think it would really help to have someone to sing with her and break the ice. I've noticed that ever since she got laughed at she hasn't even sung along with the group when she knows other people are watching. Getting laughed at by everyone has probably hit her really hard, and I'm sure she could use some confidence."
Santana looked at him suspiciously. He officially had her with that kind of argument. But what was his game?
"Okay," She said, "but no ballads. We pick the song."
He held his hands up as a show of defeat. "Fine by me. I'll be glad to see you encouraging your friend Santana, and, just so you know I might have to separate you two from the group for a while so you can get lots of practice in," he said, winking at her.
He wasn't blind to the issues that were surrounding those two kids. After all, they had suddenly gone from hiding the fact that they were holding hands in class (he hadn't had the heart to tell them that he could see) to sitting on opposite sides of the room at one stage, back to trying to get near other, but finding it impossible. He didn't know what to make of some of his other kids getting involved and trying to split the two up. He liked Santana. She was a fiery little thing, but there was more to her than that. He couldn't help caring about her, she was just as much a misfit in some ways as the rest of his kids. Quite frankly though, some of the rumors he'd heard about her lately made him worry about her. Brittany seemed to bring out the best in her, so he wanted to do his best to help keep the pair together as often as possible.
"Yeah, yeah," Santana said and turned her back to him, leaving him standing there looking amused. If she didn't leave now, she'd probably have thanked him or something and got all mushy, and she wasn't going to risk it.
Santana had to admit she'd been surprised. Even though Tina had whined to Mr Schue about the duet, saying that she would be a better choice as Brittany's partner instead, there hadn't been nearly as much fuss from Homo Von Trapp and Hobbit this time. They were probably both obsessing over Finn right now, and as for Finn-fidelity himself, he was probably fucking at least one of them, maybe both, even though he was supposed to be going with Quinn. She tried to clear her mind of those thoughts, but failed.
"How about… I am the walrus?" Brittany asked her, randomly getting back on topic and suggesting what she thought might be the perfect song for their duet.
Walrus, Santana thought. Finn kind of looked like a walrus. Realizing they were still in the library together discussing their assignment, and she still had her pen poised over a picture of Mr Schuester, Santana went soft and gave him a lame but inoffensive bowtie, before turning her attention back to Brittany.
"What? I am the walrus?" Really? She thought. At Brittany's nominated song choice Santana wrinkled her nose. That song was about drugs right? Was Brittany vaguely referring to her minor and completely unimportant little drug habit with that suggestion?
"Why?" she asked finally.
"Because it is a sexy song and I wanna sing it to you. That's okay right?"
Santana frowned. At least Brittany wasn't preaching, but she didn't understand what she meant by that. How was that song about sex?
Brittany frowned back mirroring her expression before answering the unspoken question."It's got a lot of stuff like what you told me. You know… all the sexting and how you smoke and like getting choked from behind in bed," she announced a little too loudly. She cringed a little in discomfort, but was too honest and literal not to announce her train of thought.
Santana cringed back. That's what she got for telling Brittany what little she remembered about how it went down in those seedy motels. She didn't mind other people overhearing though, it just added to her rep. She looked around defiantly at the Librarian and at all the eggheads studying. She was totally sure she would be hot gossip at the next Chess Club meeting by the looks of this crowd. She rolled her eyes at them.
"I thought you'd like it is all. I heard it at Kurt's house. You know, the lyrics go like... you're an expert textpert choking smokers. And it's more obvious in other parts. Boy you've been a naughty girl and let your knickers down!" Brittany sung.
Santana stared at her openmouthed. Maybe that song really kind of was about sex? Whatever. Hearing those words come out of Brittany's mouth though, was definitely sexy. Santana felt uncomfortable, she had to put a stop to this.
"That's not meant to be a sexy song. We're not singing I am the Walrus, Britt!" she snapped.
"But… I'm the elementary penguin," Brittany pouted, referring to her favorite part. It wasn't a song she liked all that much, but she thought it might make her fit into her best friend's life a little bit better, or better still it might propel her further in. She wanted to start proving to her that she was ready for more, even if she wasn't sure how to tell if she was or wasn't. Even if Santana wasn't ready for more herself, maybe she'd feel better if Brittany was right there waiting to catch her.
"Just no," Santana glared, adding devil horns and a pitchfork to her own picture in the yearbook, because deep down she was upset with herself for being mean, yet again, to her BrittBritt. She took a deep calming breath and looked sideways, seeing only a curtain of blonde hair where Brittany was hiding her face.
"Come on Britts, you got any other ideas?" she said lowering her voice considerably, and trying to be more gentle.
Brittany brightened and started running off seemingly endless ideas for their song choice.
"How 'bout the Pokemon theme song?"
Santana giggled. "Nope, as inspiring as that song is, try again Britts."
"Super bass?"
Santana's mind took her to a whole new place as she got full color images of Brittany in the shower. "Oh hell no."
"Kristin the stalker chick?"
"Omg. B, that's not even a proper song."
"Is too," Brittany pouted, "um… Spaghetti Bolognese?"
"I don't know that one."
"Unlike a yo yo phase, unlike a marble phase. I love it everyday, Spaghetti Bolognese!" Brittany sung.
Santana laughed. "Yeah, I see why you like that song."
Santana had noticed that Brittany had finally tired of bananas and now she liked to eat spaghetti as her main food group, obsessing each time over perfecting a meatball trick. She thought it was funny how Brittany always got stuck on one or two foods and ignored all the others.
"I found it on Youtube. It's an Australian song," Brittany told her, "you know, the place where people walk on their heads?"
As usual, Santana didn't bother to correct her. They sat in a comfortable silence.
"I've got it," Brittany said suddenly, "I wanna do Build me up, Buttercup!"
She hoped Santana wouldn't say no. It was another love song, from a girl or guy to their unicorn, but much more in Brittany's own style than I Am The Walrus. Brittany knew the song was about unicorns, because nearly all unicorns were named Buttercup. It was just like when you said 'Tom, Dick or Harry' and were talking about an average guy. Buttercup was like talking about the average unicorn.
Maybe if Brittany sung this with Santana, it would count as showing everyone her heart like Mr Schue had asked her to do after she'd unsuccessfully tried to do it that one time she had sung a sad song about cats. If Santana actually went through with it, it would be like Santana showing everyone her heart too. Brittany stared at Santana anxiously with wild hope in her eyes.
Santana looked at her for a minute, then threw her head back and laughed.
Brittany laughed too, pleased that Santana was in such a good mood. She had a habit of mirroring Santana's emotions. She had the same habit for mirroring accents too, much to Tina's annoyance. She's been a mimic ever since she could remember. Back when she was a kid, she couldn't even talk to Santana's mom without copying her Spanish accent.
"You know what, B? That's what we'll do," Santana said, giggling.
It was the cheesiest song she could think of, and it sounded like a lot of fun, which made it exactly what they both needed.
"Are you nervous?" Santana asked Brittany, ruffling her hair a little as they lay sprawled out on the floor of the choir room, having finally been able to stake a claim on it to practice their duet. The song seemed a bit of a hot mess, especially since Brittany insisted there was a rap in it, claiming that was the way it was on her IPOD. Santana hadn't been prepared for that. They also hadn't done much choreography but Brittany had assured Santana that she danced best loose, when she just let go and had a good time, rather than when she planned it. That was how Brittany danced best too. In the end, Santana just figured they could wing it and if anyone dared to pick on them for it, Santana would kick their ass from here to Breadstix where she would shove one of those delicious 'sticks up their ass, if she could only bear to waste it.
Before they knew it, their time was up and everyone in Glee Club was watching them expectantly.
"Um… Okay guys. Santana's gonna play Rhymefest and I'm mostly gonna be an old dirty bastard," Brittany said, naming the guys she knew sung it.
Mr Schuester coughed and shook his head at the language and Santana whipped her head around, smirking at him.
Brittany started the song on a quiet note, looking at them all intently as she spoke, sounding as if she was writing a letter.
B: Dear, Baby Jesus, no that's not it
Dear Dirt McGirt, aw yeah yeah yeah
Look, man it's this girl that I really like, man
And, I want to get her to notice me
Brittany walked towards Santana and threw her arms out imploringly. Santana's grin left her face, and she looked away embarrassed. She looked around. Nobody seemed to care what Brittany was saying in the slightest, they were just watching with interest. Santana felt more positive about this whole thing and started nodding her head back and forward keeping in time with Brittany's rapper hand moves. Brittany gestured to the crowd and Santana turned around with her back to them, clicking her fingers to the beat that was building and raising her hands up past her head.
B: So, I just wanted some advice on
What should I do to like, get her to come my way
Write back soon, your biggest fan, Brittany S. Pierce.
This was Santana's cue. As the music swelled, she spun around to face them and launched into it, throwing herself into the song. Somehow as cheesy as it was, it still suited her voice and sounded pretty awesome in her opinion, as Brittany skipped around her singing an enthusiastic backup.
S: Why do you build me up?
B Build me up!
Santana and Brittany threw their hands in the air with their arms crossed at the wrists in unison. It wasn't choreographed, they were just in sync. They looked at each other and giggled.
S: Buttercup Baby just to let me down.
B: Just to let me down!
Brittany led the next step, bring back an old move of Santana's and Santana picked up on it right away, and they both pumped their fist towards the ground stamping their foot to the beat.
S: Mess me around.
Both girls spun around on one foot.
S: And then worst of all…
B: Worst of all!
S: You never call baby when you say you will.
Brittany took the opportunity to sneak around behind Santana and wave her hands out from bottom to top, making a star.
B: When you say you will!
Brittany threw her arms around Santana randomly from behind
S: OOOF! But I love you still, I need you!
Brittany burst out from where she had been hiding behind Santana.
B: I need you!
Brittany pointed at Santana and Santana just smiled, too into it to care.
S: More than anyone darlin, you know that I have from the start. Build me up…
B: Build me up!
They both placed their hands over their hearts and circled around each other while Santana was still singing.
S: Buttercup, don't break my heart.
Brittany didn't start the next part of the rap for a few seconds, she was too excited by the fact that Santana had technically told her she loved her and called her a unicorn, even if it only in song. Brittany's eyes shone, and her smile was wider than Santana had ever seen it causing Santana to melt a little. She remembered how much she loved seeing Brittany this happy. She nudged her and Brittany quickly remembered what she was supposed to be doing and skipped over to begin the next verse.
B: Look, c'mon
Have you ever met a girl, come into your world
Cracked the safe, put your brain on sterile
Activate and leave stains like curls
Sophisticate, and make you feel so world
Ahhh, there it is - so liberated
Ridin in a sports car, so ventilated
Joggin in a sports bra, so titillated
Chick so Hood, but not refrigerated
Brittany started krumping, putting everything she had into it.
Santana stared.
This had to be the most sexy thing that had ever happened in this choir room, Santana thought, freezing and forgetting to move.
B: Look McGirt, I don't wanna trouble ya
But this chick on my block, I'm in love with her
Brittany caught Santana's hand to get her moving again and they faced each other, both shaking their shoulders like something Santana had seen once in Grease. Santana was certain now that Brittany didn't know the meaning of these lyrics, but she didn't care about that right now. This was too much fun. Santana kept up the move, putting her hands high in the air, dancing to Brittany's take on the next verse.
B: I wanna get up in her Bush like Dubya
Tryin to get up in her Bush like Dubya
So write me back, let me know
How I'm 'sposed to hit it when I got no dough
How I'm 'sposed to spit it when I got no flow
Shimmy shimmy yay, shimmy ya, shimmy yo
Santana struck a pose.
S: Oh woo-hoo-hoooo!
Brittany struck the same pose.
B: Wooooo- hooo-ooooooooo!
They repeated the hook the same as before, almost laughing too much to stand up straight.
B: I just wanna talk to her
But I'm me and this girl is so popular
Mr. Dirty gave me his binoculars
Santana mimed looking at Brittany through binoculars and then went right up to Berry and started looking at her through them. It was the most scared she had ever seen Rachel Berry. This felt good.
B: From a distance I just started watchin her
Then I met her at Hills on the Southside
Bought her chicken and fries, with coleslaw side
She ain't say thanks enough, that's all pride
I don't care about her manners, I just let it slide
I just think about fuckin you everyday
Mr Schuester cleared his throat and made a slicing motion on his neck to try and get Santana to stop the song since he couldn't get Brittany's attention at all. This just made Santana laugh even harder.
B: And just sink in the back of my Chevrolet
All that chicken you ate and you never paid
Take my order, can I have a breast or leg?
Would you fin' to say no, oh, how's that so?
After I came here and spent all my dough?
"Look boy it's chicken, what is you broke?"
Then I got scared and said it's a joke
Gave her a hug and stole her a Coke
Mr Schuester was instructing Rachel to stop the backup tape but evidently the Glee Club were all enjoying it too much to let that happen. They were all pumping their fists in the air as if this was some sort of riot. The whole Glee club blocked Rachel's way, and Santana and Brittany got another version of the hook in, jumping around holding on to each other as if they were dancing in a mosh pit. The Glee club (except of course for Rachel who still looked terrified) were having a similar reaction and were by now out of their seats singing along. Brittany deliberately skipped a verse because she didn't like it, and went on to the next one.
B: Yeah
This is for everybody lookin for that perfect girl, man,
Sometimes you ain't got all the money in the world,
And you ain't got all the looks in the world but,
You can still find that buttercup!
Brittany pressed her fist to her forehead and then moved it out to the imaginary tip of her unicorn horn, almost like a unicorn salute.
Don't let her build you up and break you down man
You build it up, whatever, yo freak for me
Make sure she like to fuck though, heh
That's always important isn't it?
At this, Mr Schuester came up and stopped the tape himself.
"That will be quite enough of that," he said sternly.
"Awwwww…," Almost the entire club whined, and then took it upon themselves to clap Santana and Brittany loudly as the two girls held hands and curtseyed, holding each other up as they were laughing themselves silly, and could hardly stand by themselves. For Santana, laughter felt so freeing, she couldn't remember the last time she had felt this good without the aid of any substances.
"Club dismissed," Mr Schuester said, knowing that he wasn't going to get anywhere with the group after this. Why was it that either Brittany or Santana were always the ones causing some kind of riot?
Everyone sobered and packed up to leave.
"Brittany," Mr Schuester said, "a word please."
"Yes Mr Schue," Brittany danced up to him, "did you like my song about being a unicorn in love?"
"That wasn't really a love song, Brittany, I thought you wanted to share your feelings with us?"
"I do," Brittany frowned, "I thought I just did."
"Well, I don't think you understood most of those lyrics."
Brittany thought for a moment. "I guess I didn't really understand much of what I was saying," she admitted.
"You took the easy way out Brittany and did a song for fun. I think you should try to dig deeper and really communicate how you feel inside. I know it's hard, but I know you can." He gestured for her to go. "Try again another time, okay? And maybe don't sing it with Santana, it might be something you have to do by yourself."
"Okay Mr Schue. But I still did something really important. I taught her how to dance!" she said exhilarated, referring to her own definition for 'dance' and how Santana had been once again laughing and smiling, losing herself in the music. "I may not have got her to share her feelings, but I taught her how to dance!" Ignoring his bemused expression, she ran off as fast as she could to catch up with Santana.
Brittany was on a high from their duet and planned to ride the feeling as far as it could go. But, even the next day, a few minutes with Santana in the morning before school revealed that typically, her other half had already moved on to the next thing. Brittany, who wanted to jump up and down and dance about their duet success all day, couldn't help being disappointed as Santana went back to raging about Puck and the latest news. Apparently Quinn was still taking over 'her man' and she needed to 'gets the hell away from him'. It was times like these that she felt like shaking her and asking her why she wouldn't ride the good feelings with her, and had to go straight back to old habits? Why won't you have fun, Santana? Why won't you dance with me? I just showed you how!
Brittany still wanted to at least try to celebrate how well they had done anyway, even if Santana wasn't cooperating and even seemed to have almost forgotten she was supposed to be being happy. Katie had a netball tournament interstate, and Lord Tubbington had cooled down, so the house was hers again. She'd invited Santana over and had tried to engage her with ice cream and Disney movies, but Santana's attention was divided between Brittany and her phone, returning to Brittany at times only to nod and agree with what she'd said or to quickly squeeze her hand.
Brittany never knew what she was going to get from Santana, her moods always changed faster than the weather, as did her wants and her goals. She could be sweet, or needy, or angry, or obsessed, or just so sad. Sometimes these moods had something to do with Brittany, and sometimes they didn't. Once she had something, she always had to go looking for the next thing, as if that drive and progress was the only way in which she could fool herself that she meant something. She was the complete opposite to Brittany whose moods and goals stayed steady and stuck for the longest of times.
Santana kept texting Puck as the The Lady and the Tramp played on the screen. She seemed obsessed with keeping Puck's attention away from Quinn, as if she thought that if she could only text him enough, she could halt his entire relationship with Quinn.
She doesn't seem to be enjoying sexting at all though, Brittany mused as she watched Santana type out some forced typical come-on's, muttering at certain points that she thought this would 'get him,' and that Quinn and her lame 90s Babysitter's Club could 'in no way compete' with a description of her own 'twins'.
It looked a lot less like fun, and more like something she compulsively had to do.
Brittany didn't know what to make of Santana's grim, determined face as she tapped things out on the keys. As she lay in her lap watching the dogs kiss on the screen, it felt like she might as well have not been there. If Santana looked through her one more time, she felt like she might even disappear. Funnily enough, it felt like Puck might as well not have been at the other end of the conversation either. It seemed so much less about Santana wanting time with Puck than it was about her wanting to make sure he didn't spend time with Quinn.
It doesn't feel like love to me, she thought. It seemed more like some kind of obsession. If you were obsessed with doing things to keep your image, didn't it count as more of an obsession with yourself, rather than an obsession with a real other person? She watched Santana's fingers move quickly across the keypad typing out 'I'm not wearing any'. It didn't' feel like Santana was specifically trying to keep up her relationship with Puck, it felt more like she was trying to fill a hole in herself, and going about it in all the wrong ways. She kept waiting for Santana to say they could dance again, but she never did. She didn't seem to know what she wanted to do, and where she wanted to be.
Eventually, Brittany pushed Santana's phone away, her expression resolute and unwavering. Santana sighed and let her, giving up.
"I want to go swimming," Brittany said, gesturing to the pool in their yard that had been put in for Katie to practice her competitive swimming strokes. Brittany knew that Santana couldn't take her phone into the pool with them, and they'd finally be alone.
Santana nodded, and Brittany ran upstairs to get her the bikini that she'd left here a while ago. It might be a little small now, but Santana hadn't grown much since, so it should still fit. Santana followed her up, accepting the bikini and standing there self-consciously. Brittany paused, wondering if they were supposed to get changed in different rooms now, or if they could still just do it here like when they were kids.
Santana solved the problem by quickly stepping into the bathroom to get changed. Brittany sighed. She could never understand why things had to change.
When Santana emerged with a towel wrapped securely around her waist, Brittany was already dressed.
They went outside. It was getting dark, a small moon appearing.
Brittany jumped into the pool quickly, finding it freezing cold. "Argh!" she exclaimed, shivering, "your turn San!"
Santana looked up. It was dark, but not dark enough yet. She had secrets from Brittany that she didn't want her to see. "No, I'll just watch you," she said, sitting down at the edge.
Brittany kicked around for a while, splashing and trying to swim with her legs together like a mermaid. She pretended she was Ariel, the daughter of a strict sea king who just wanted to have legs like everyone else and walk on the land with Santana. In a moment of rare clarity, she stopped swimming, stilling her movements to float on the surface. Why didn't Ariel ask for a tail for Eric instead? she mused. Brittany loved how weightless she felt underwater and all the tricks she could do. That, and living in an underwater palace seemed better than living on land.
"San!" Brittany pouted, and made her way over to her quickly, grabbing hold of Santana's ankles. "Come in with me! We can do mermaid flips together!"
Santana sighed. She hated to disappoint her. "Close your eyes Britt," she said quietly.
"Why?"
"Just close them."
Brittany did, and Santana threw off her towel, spared a quick glance downward at her legs, before sliding in the pool beside her. Brittany was right, it was cold. Santana inched closer to the blonde and pressed herself into her body heat.
"Oh, there you are," Brittany said and smiled warmly, opening her eyes and running wet fingers through Santana's hair, before pulling her in for a quick hug.
Santana didn't let go when Brittany did, so Brittany wrapped her arms back around her again. She'd hold onto her forever if she could.
"Keep your eyes closed," Santana said.
"Okay," Brittany said nodding. She was used to this by now.
Santana raised her own hand and placed it over Brittany's eyes, smoothing Brittany's hair away from her face as if to tell her she was grateful that Brittany went along with this. She kissed her nose, then paused, having had an idea.
With her other hand, she tugged Brittany down until they'd broken the surface of the water and were fully submerged underneath.
Underwater, she finally felt comfortable taking her hand away from Brittany's eyes, and they stared at each other. Brittany's hair flopped around her face adorably and her lips parted slightly, knowing what was coming.
Santana pressed her lips against Brittany's, desperately, her tongue finding its way into her mouth. Brittany hummed in response, the sound reaching Santana's ears perhaps even faster now that they were underwater.
Brittany kept hold of Santana who seemed to be having an easier time than her managing to sit on the bottom of the pool without rising to the surface. Happily, she kissed her back, though she was puzzled. All of Santana's kisses were different. The first one under the fireworks had been like magic, the second in bed when they had just made up had tasted salty and of regrets. This one now, was certainly wet, but it also felt needy and urgent. It felt fierce, yet without the same spark of the other two. It felt almost like a resigned, but unhappy goodbye, full of sadness and defeat.
Brittany ran her hands up and down Santana's side with her free hand, trying to get a sense of her place in space, her vision somewhat obscured by the water. Santana took that as an invitation to cup her breasts, then slid one hand around and down Brittany's back, coming to rest in the elastic of her bikini. She pulled her closer, lifting her up a bit, until Brittany's legs were tangled around her. Santana anchored her, grinding into her with her hips, the hand in the elastic of her bikini bottom slowly slipping lower.
Confused by the cold methodical glint in Santana's beautiful eyes, Brittany searched for Santana's other hand, needing the comfort of the familiar action. She eventually found Santana's pinky, hearing tiny moans travelling underwater as she explored the surface of Santana's body before finding it. Even when she'd found her pinky, she kept exploring her, trailing both their hands together and running them up and down her skin. Santana stilled their hands in between her legs, pushing Brittany's fingers inside her bikini bottom. Brittany swallowed a gulp of water in surprise and curious pleasure.
She didn't want to stop, but her lungs said otherwise. She wished she had practiced holding her breath so she could hold out longer. She untangled herself from Santana, who immediately realized what she was doing and helped her, catching hold of her hips and pushing her upwards. As Brittany broke through the surface, she inhaled deeply, glad for strong lungs that could give her that much time underwater.
Santana's lungs aren't really as strong as mine, she realized suddenly, looking around for her, expecting her to have come up behind her somewhere. She hadn't.
Brittany panicked. Taking a second longer than she should have to react, she dived down and caught hold of Santana's body, pulling her upwards quickly,
Long strands of hair were clinging to Santana's face. Brittany brushed them back quickly, holding her up as Santana coughed and spluttered, her body taking in breaths that seemed too shallow to fill up her lungs.
The night breeze seemed colder now, or maybe it was Santana's body. She's ice cold, thought Brittany. She was breathing better now, but she wouldn't look Brittany in the eyes, and she was shaking, almost unresponsive to her touch. Brittany held her close anyway, trying to find her, figuring that somewhere in between here and when their lips had been touching underwater, she had become lost again.
Eventually, Santana seemed to come around and look more alert, but almost disappointed. Neither of them said anything. Brittany stared at her, wanting to cry, and wondering what had just happened. Surely Santana hadn't done that on purpose? Why hadn't she come up faster? Suddenly, as Santana finally wrapped her arms around her, making quiet shushing noises in her ear and telling her it was alright, Brittany realized why their kiss had been different. It hadn't been like stroking a fire to make it bigger and brighter, the fire had been empty, black and freezing, unable to burn itself at all. Santana cooed to her as her tears fell, telling her that her lips were blue now and they should get out, so she could find her a blanket, but Brittany hardly heard her. She wanted the fire back.
"I think she knows."
"Hmm?" Brittany asked Santana tiredly. She hadn't got much sleep last night, and everything always seemed more confusing to her on the kinds of days that followed.
"Your stupid hobbit friend. Did you tell her? You didn't just happen to mention that Puck knocked up Quinn to her did you?"
"He hit her?" Brittany covered her mouth in shock, her eyes wide.
"No," Santana rephrased it, "preggers. Um. You know. Bun in the oven. Served her an egg based desert. Had sex and produced unborn human child. Whatever you're calling it."
"Oh that," Brittany huffed, "no I didn't say anything. She asked me a whole bunch of questions though."
"And what did you say?" Santana asked, her voice tight.
"Vagina's," Brittany nodded pleased, "that's always the right answer, right?"
In spite of herself, Santana giggled. "Yeah, okay, you did good, B."
So not Brittany then, Santana thought. She didn't particularly want Berry finding out that Puck was Quinn's baby-daddy because she had to be the biggest blabbermouth in the universe, and the last thing Santana wanted was the whole school finding out that that Santana couldn't keep her guy on a leash. Pretty much the whole Glee Club knew the whole story and that was bad enough already. The news spreading and getting out to the Cheerios was so much worse. If they found out she couldn't keep Puck under control, then they'd assume that he wasn't getting enough from her, and that was unacceptable. She'd lose everything.
Ignoring Brittany's overtired ranting philosophies on Care Bears, Santana called Mercedes planning to bitch to her and find out the whole story.
Sighing when she realized Santana wasn't listening to her thoughts on what gender the deep voiced yellow bear actually was, Brittany let Santana dial in to the party line conversation on her phone for her too. She always at least tried to include her, even when Brittany didn't exactly want to be included.
When Mercedes answered, Santana didn't waste any time. "We just heard! Who told?"
Artie replied back, "We assumed it was you."
"And why would I do that?"
Kurt answered that one, "To get back at Puck, aren't you guys dating?"
God, Santana thought. Was there anyone not on the phone with us right now?
What he said made Santana pissed. Kurt had made a lot of assumptions about her lately. This was the last straw.
"Sex is not dating," she said about to launch into as many insults as she could come up with on the spot.
Brittany beat her to it, and added before Santana could stop her, "If it was then Santana and I would be dating."
Santana felt her world closing in, her mind spinning out of control. In contrast, beside her Brittany seemed oblivious, even peaceful, unaware of the consequences of what she had just let slip.
Santana fumbled and kept the conversation going, but she really had no idea what she was saying. Evidently Brittany thought that they had already had sex, probably when Santana had lost control in the pool and had nearly managed to guide Brittany's fingers inside of her. She probably would have succeeded if Brittany had not needed to come up for air. The moment Brittany had broken away from her, Santana had felt so ashamed of what she'd almost done that she hadn't wanted to come back up and face her. It hadn't been thought out or planned, but Santana had just stayed at the bottom of the pool, too stricken to move. Brittany's touch had felt so good, and that was more humiliating than anything. It wasn't just 'nothing' like with Puck which is why Santana really felt as if she had something to be ashamed of.
She should have guessed that Brittany might be confused on the details and make more of it than it was. This was the same girl that assumed that to 'do pot,' meant that Santana had to go out into the woods to stir a big bubbling cauldron pot full of curious green substances, and then breathe in the rising smoke. When she actually saw one of Santana's joints, she thought it was a spring roll. She was also completely convinced that a blow job meant that someone had to blow a raspberry on a penis. If only it were so easy, Santana thought. If only all of this were easier, she wished miserably, the implications of the moment beginning to set in.
Brittany noticed that something wasn't right. Santana had sounded so defensive on the phone and the moment that she had hung up, she leaned against the lockers and closed her eyes, tears falling slowly down her face. She seemed to slowly crack around the edges, her shoulders low in defeat. She wouldn't accept Brittany's arms which hesitantly tried to curl themselves around her. She just stood still like she was made of stone, neither leaning in to Brittany's embrace nor pushing her away. It was more like Santana had forgotten Brittany was even there. She did push Brittany away however, when some girls who had obviously overheard the conversation behind them started pointing at them and laughing.
"Freakin' dumb dykes," one of them said, loud enough to hear.
Santana lost it. She rounded on Brittany. "We. Haven't. Had. Sex. Okay?" she hissed, enunciating each symbol clearly.
"But I felt…,"
"I don't care what you felt. We haven't. Get that through your head."
But I… I love you, I need you. I'm ready. I'm sorry. None of them sounded right in Brittany's head so she just stared at Santana, open-mouthed. She wanted to ask exactly why Santana was so upset. Didn't she say she wasn't ready yet? Didn't that mean she was trying to be ready someday? Why couldn't she tell anyone then if it was going to happen one day anyway? The logic seemed okay to her, but Miss Pillsbury had told her a couple of times now that she could make a lot of logical assumptions without remembering that there were feelings involved.
Santana threw her hands up and tried to walk away, rushing right past the two girls and pointing at them warningly, with a dangerous glare.
Brittany followed her.
"What are you doing?" Santana asked frustrated. She wasn't crying anymore so much as she was liquefying, the solid parts of her seeming to not look right anymore, now that she was a human pool of tears.
"Walking you home, like we used to. I thought you wanted to spend more time with me," Brittany said, confused. She also didn't want to leave Santana under any circumstances when she looked so sad. Not after what happened in the pool. What if something happened?
"Not right now! I don't want you to walk me home Brittany! I need some space," Before she could hear another word, Santana turned and ran.
Brittany stopped still, though every cell of her being urged her to follow. She knew she had done something wrong. As she stared after Santana, watching her back as she walked away from her, she felt so scared and confused.
How could someone make the person they loved cry that much, and not really mean to, or know why? Brittany was tired of never knowing what she did wrong, or even knowing if what she did was right. She was tired of feeling stupid, and doing stupid things that affected other people.
Sinking down against her locker, she tried to think about it more clearly. Why was not telling everyone so important to Santana in the first place? Was her reputation worth more than Brittany? It felt like there was something barring her from being able to see things Santana's way and look at it from her perspective. After their duet, she had began to hope again, and all she had seen all week was her own excitement and drive to build their relationship. With the strength of that, Santana's fears had seemed to disappear from Brittany's eyes. There were probably several comments she'd made this week in public that were about their relationship, not just this one. She hadn't been sensitive to Santana's feelings, not because she she'd wanted to defy them, but because she'd lost sight of them and forgot to remember they existed. She'd promised herself that she would never do that.
Was this what Miss Pillsbury was talking about when she said that she had a difficulty developing empathy? Usually Brittany tried to ignore everything the red haired woman said during their sessions, but now, the comment stood out.
"Brittany, if you ran over an invisible girl would you care?"
"What was her name? Was it Sue Richards?"
"No, it was Ricki Lake," Miss Pillsbury said, sarcastically.
Brittany nodded intently.
"Answer the question, okay? If you ran over an invisible girl, and you had no idea about it, do you think you would get upset?"
"No, because I wouldn't know about it," Brittany said, confused.
"Exactly," Miss Pillsbury said, pleased. Maybe they were finally making progress. "But what if I told you that you had just hurt someone, and the girl you had no idea you had just run over, was in fact, very much there. How would you feel then?"
"Very, very bad," Brittany said, nodding, "I'd hate to hurt Ricki."
"Okay, so now you see my point. Other people's feelings to you can be just like… your invisible Ricki Lake. Sometimes you don't react properly to feelings because you don't know that they are even there. But when you do, if someone tells you, then you're more upset than anyone, aren't you?"
"There's nothing worse than making other people sad," Brittany agreed.
"Yes. So, what this is, is a difficulty... developing empathy," Miss Pillsbury concluded. "People might think you're cold and heartless sometimes when you don't react to their pain, because they don't realize that you're having trouble seeing it in the first place."
"So what do I do?" Brittany said, worriedly.
"You work twice as hard as the others, and always look out for 'invisible people' Brittany. You double check everything twice, you ask lots of questions and you think extra hard about what you're doing and how it might make someone feel."
What if I accidentally run over Santana? Brittany thought worriedly, and vowed to never let that happen. She promised herself then and there, that if Miss Pillsbury was right and she really did have that problem, then she wasn't ever going to let it hurt anyone, but especially not Santana. She would work ten times as hard as everyone else if she had to.
The two girls had backed off, but were still watching her from a distance. Minutes later, a third girl joined the group. Brittany recognized her as Lauren Zizes, a girl who'd held a grudge against her ever since Brittany had singlehandedly caused the outlaw of bubblegum at Mckinley High. She chewed through so much of it, that she'd kept losing it wherever she went. After teachers had started finding it in the strangest places like in the bunsen burners in the science lab, they'd outlawed it altogether.
Lauren listened intently as the scene was relayed back to her from the other girls, and then smiled deviously approaching Brittany. Brittany saw them looking at her and backed up against the lockers. She looked around wildly for an escape, but there was none. The other two girls were blocking the exits.
She tried to remember what Kurt had told her to do if she was bullied, but found in the moment she couldn't remember. "You're way bigger than me," she stuttered, trying to make them at least try to be fair.
"You calling us fat?" Lauren said menacingly.
Brittany looked them over, scruntinizingly. Yes, they were taller than her, but they also had excess body weight for their height. "Yes, you are fat," she said.
"Ooooh," the girls said, "you'll pay for that." They looked at their leader for their next move.
Lauren however, seemed almost upset. "If we're fat, we're fat and proud," she told Brittany. "We wrestling team girls like our bodies."
"I'm glad," Brittany smiled through her tears, starting to think they might just have a nice conversation instead. That would be okay, she thought.
"You messing with us? Cause we ain't lying, you gon' pay."
Brittany shook her head. "I know you're not lying. I know people who like big butts can't lie. Everyone knows that. There's even a song about it. And you just told me you like having big butts, so you can't lie. I can't lie either. If we were friends we could always be honest with each other," she said hopefully.
In a second, Lauren had tossed her slushie in Brittany's face. To her, it was a worthy sacrifice. For a moment, Brittany was statue still.
It was like her entire world had stopped. The frozen drink was blue and it got right in her eyes. She screamed, the sound startling the three girls who left quickly. They'd done what they wanted to do and had seen enough.
Blinded by the drink, her eyes stinging, Brittany called out for Santana, hoping she hadn't really left and would come back for her. She didn't.
Eventually, Brittany managed to get to her feet and she walked home blindly, carrying her own self loathing like a heavy weight on her back.
"Santana is that you?" Maria asked as Santana walked through the door, dragging her feet, looking forward to barricading herself in her room and hiding under her covers. She would hide away forever, or at least until she was sure that everyone who heard, had forgotten what Brittany had said.
"Santana?" Maria's voice sounded tired. Santana was surprised for one that she was actually home. She was even more surprised to see Tomas there as well, sitting at the kitchen table smirking at her.
She had been successfully avoiding him lately and it wasn't like he'd been staying over as much as before. Craig and Maria had been having some problems, and Craig been going on some long business trips, or so he said. Privately Santana thought that he'd found someone's secretary to screw, and she had been secretly anticipating the end of Tomas and Craig being around. Craig was probably looking for an 'out' this very minute.
Maria took hold of her arms roughly and sat her down on a chair. "Just tell me. Is it true?" she asked. Her voice was tight and controlled, yet dangerous, just like it had sounded during all those arguments with Santana's father so many years ago.
"Is what true?" Santana asked tiredly. Her head hurt from all the crying she had done today, and she wasn't about to play her mother's mind games. She looked over at Tomas. His triumphant smirk said it all. He had been threatening to tell Maria about their arrangement for a while now, but Santana never thought he'd actually do it. What would he get out of it?
Tomas's voice took on a whiny high pitched tone that Santana hadn't heard from him before. "I told her all about it. I told her how you pressured me and that I didn't want to say no to you, because I really wanted to keep living here. I didn't want to go back to my mom's house, and I was afraid to tell dad."
Jesus Christ, Santana thought. This guy could win a fucking Emmy. And by the looks of things her mother was lapping it all up, patting him on the shoulder. He was the prodigal son that she'd never had, and apparently all Santana wasn't.
"Tomas, Go upstairs okay?" Maria said to him gently.
"Now Santana," Maria said for the third time, "I'll ask you once more. Did you and Tomas have sex?"
"No." Santana said instantly.
Maria slapped her across the side of her face, hard. Her hand mostly collided with Santana's ear, which was now ringing from the impact. She put a hand to her face and looked at Maria in a daze.
"Santana! I know what you're like. You're just like your father. You cheat, you lie, you steal everything that's mine and bleed me dry from the inside out. I know the kind of person you are. I know you manipulated poor Tomas into intercourse, because that's exactly what you would do."
Santana's head was throbbing now and things were getting blurry. "It was just a BJ," she said hardly aware of what she was saying.
"Just a blowjob?" Maria's voice was low, "Is that what I'm hearing? You think it's nothing to force the son of the man I'm dating to further your slutty reputation? Oh, don't think I don't know. I've heard people talk about how you lure boys under the bleachers at your school. I've even heard that at some festival you were kissing some blonde, but that one I chose not to believe."
Santana froze. Someone had seen her and Brittany?
Maria misread her expression, "Yeah, Santana. I can't believe I raised a little slut like you. You're worse than your father. I hope you're happy. Tomas told Craig, and now he doesn't want to be with us anymore… Santana are you listening?"
Maria grabbed her around the wrists in a surprisingly strong grip and Santana yelped in pain, feeling like Maria might crush her wrists. She could already feel the bruises forming. Maria didn't let go, she just gripped her harder.
Out of the corner of her eye she spotted Tomas watching them with that same shit eating grin. It was then that she knew. This was his plan all along. At times she had thought she was the one using him, but this whole time he had been the one using her. The reason he had been so nonchalant about moving in with them, was because he knew he could end it when he needed to. She could see Tomas for who he was now. He wanted his father all to himself. She could see the hate inside him, his hate for his father yet the constant craving for him at the same time.
He hated his father for not being with his mother, just as much as Santana hated her own mother for forgetting so quickly about Papi. Santana understood. Tomas's father was all he had left, he was all he had to place his hopes and desires of family upon. Craig ignored him, and probably always ignored him unless he did things like… this. Santana understood why he had done it, but that just made her hate him all the more, somehow. Maybe it was a shared hate that she also felt at herself, because she knew that she would have done the same thing, if she'd thought of it. Tomas had used her to get back his father, but at the same time, he had taken what little she had of her mother from her, maybe for good.
Maria was shouting at her now, still grabbing her wrists in a vice-like grip, "I hope you're happy! I hope you're satisfied that you've made me lose the one good thing that's been in my life. It's just like you took Carlos from me, he only left because of you, because you are so difficult! Now, Craig too, and god knows how many other partners I've had that have seen you for who you are. You take everything from me, you take it all until I have nothing all over again!"
"What about me," Santana asked in a small voice. She didn't even know why she said it. She wasn't really in control of her voice right now. She just wanted to hear that she was important to someone, she just wanted to hear that she still had a family.
Maria slapped her again and this time, Santana's head snapped back and she automatically pushed her away from her as hard as she could. She hadn't meant to, it was done on reflex to protect herself. Maria hit the wall with a sickening crunch. She was quiet for a few seconds, then she looked Santana in the eyes. "What about you? You're dead to me Santana. I don't love you," she said in the coldest voice Santana had ever heard, "I tried, but I don't know how anyone could love you."
She turned away and pushed Santana roughly in the direction of upstairs. "Go. I don't want to look at you right now."
On her way up the stairs, Santana passed Tomas, and slunk past him with her head down. He caught her wrist which was soon to be very bruised and he cocked his head as if to say to her, "Well, how about one more time before I leave?"
He still thought he owned her, even after this. Santana ran past him into the upstairs bathroom. She had to get away. She felt the walls closing in on her. These walls were too close. Tomas was too close even though she couldn't see him anymore. She slammed the door and locked it, spinning around, half expecting him to be still in the room with her. Her face was hot and the air in here felt stifling. But she was safe. She was alone, nobody was here. She sunk to the floor.
As Santana sat on the floor leaning up against the side cabinet, all she felt was dirty. She never wanted to go downstairs and face her mother ever again. She never wanted to go to school again. She never wanted to leave this bathroom, period.
Before she knew what she was doing, she was shoving pills in her mouth. She didn't care what they were, whatever was in the cabinet would do. There were a few Dexedrine pills there, but mostly it was pain killers.
10… 20…
Santana wasn't counting them exactly, but she thought she had a rough estimate of how many she was taking.
She felt exposed in a way that she couldn't take. She knew now that she had never been in control with Tomas. Even when it started, she hadn't wanted his hands on her and her mouth on him, yet the whole time she had pretended to herself that she had been using him to get ahead on her list. In other ways she had wanted him to need her, she had wanted him to crave her somehow. She knew now it hadn't been real. He had used her back twice as hard. He had even loaned her out to his friend like she was a worthless thing. Maybe all the guys at school were just doing the same thing.
She wasn't in control with any of them, not when they were living out their fantasies on her in a way they wouldn't do with their real girlfriends. Santana didn't want any of the videos and pictures some of them had taken to ever surface. She had never said no, not to anyone, but she hadn't exactly said yes either. Puck treated her a lot better and actually seemed to care about her, but she couldn't control him either in a different way. She couldn't keep him interested and keep him from straying from her no matter what she did.
30…. 40… 50…
Santana didn't like feeling so dirty. Being seen as 'a slut' had seemed like such a good idea at first, it was a way to be popular with guys who wanted her attention and it was a way to be popular with girls who wanted to know all the latest news. Most of all, it was a way to throw everyone off that fact that Santana had these strange, wrong feelings for a girl who was supposed to only be her best friend. Sex sure as hell distracted Santana from her own feelings. But, she was coming to realize, that it was also ruining her. People wanted to be around her all the time, but nobody really actually liked her, and if they found out who they really was, then they would hate her, Santana was sure of it.
60… 70… 80… 2000.
She didn't know anymore.
They would all hate her like her mother now hated her. Just like Papi must of done too, or he never could have left. And by Monday, everyone would probably all know about her and Brittany. Those girls who overheard would spread it around, and Mercedes had a big mouth, she would probably tell at least the whole Glee club what Brittany had said.
Brittany.
Santana crawled over to her desk, opening the drawer and eventually pulling out a piece of note paper that had originally come from Brittany, featuring characters from The Little Mermaid. Brittany wouldn't understand why she had done this. She had to explain this to her somehow or she'd wonder why forever. Her mind felt a bit foggy, but she had to try.
She addressed it to her at the top of the page, then paused, trying to find the right words to explain why she was doing this. The right words never came, instead she scrawled words that seemed to come from a place inside her that she had never known.
A quiet demise within my eyes
A hollow laugh, a searing a pain
No fighting chance, no fucking claim.
In the haze of Santana's mind, Brittany's face was all she could see right now. She saw Brittany's gap-toothed smile the day they built a pillow fort together before Lord Tubbington took it over.
You ask me, why?
Why won't you fight?
You sew me up, your stitches tight.
She saw Brittany's eyes, wide with fear looking at her to stay grounded while they watched zombie movies. She thought of all the times they'd snuggled together on the couch.
I'm losing time to feel alive,
A slow decay from heart to hands,
That you can't see, or understand.
She saw the serious little sad frown she had made when she had told their third grade teacher who had just gotten a bulldog, that bulldogs were really hippos in poverty with super stunted growth. Brittany could always make her laugh.
Like shattered glass,
and blackened skies,
Those voices tell me, not to try.
She saw Brittany's eyes full of emotions that she didn't even understand when they had kissed. She could get lost in those blue eyes.
I'd give you all of me to keep,
But I'm afraid you'd fall too deep
She couldn't leave Brittany. Not like this. Not after the way she brushed her off this afternoon. She couldn't let that sad look on Brittany's beautiful face be the last of her that she would ever see.
Is this the end, shall I give in?
Will I let depression win?
Santana's feet moved as if they had a mind of their own, led by the only thing that was strong enough to lead her right now, the strength of the connection which tethered her to Brittany. She slowly went down the stairs, back to the dining room.
Maria had her head in her hands and didn't look up when she came in, "I told you to stay in your room," she said unmoving, without lifting her head to look at her.
"Mom," Santana said softly, "I've done something bad, and you're not going to like it. I need help."
Okay, first the elephant in the room. If you'd asked me the day before it happened if I thought "Santana" could ever try to kill herself, then even with all the signs I'd been given, I would have told you straight up 'No way in the world, could that ever be possible,' and yet it happened. Maybe it 'just happens' with people a lot of the time.
She told me some time after that, she did it because at the time she felt she couldn't face her mom after she found out about Tomas, and that she couldn't face the people at school anymore. She didn't even want to face herself. She also very clearly told me that the reason she came downstairs at the end was because she didn't want to leave me.
She didn't write the poem at the end. She's a wonderful writer actually, much better than me, but she can't seem to keep words on the paper without tearing it up or burning it, and she doesn't even try much anymore like she used to.
Anyway, we were only sixteen when I wrote that poem so don't laugh too much. :P I unearthed it from that old heart shaped diary, so it's kind of like the real "Brittany" of the past joining in on the commentary. It was actually another case of 'borrowing people's words' because after "Santana's" attempt I was trying so hard to understand her, so I went around and asked everyone 'What does depression feel like?' and I wrote what everyone said down, picking out some words and making them rhyme. It was the first time I started playing with words as a form of expression. Most of those words are actually from a family member whose husband we lost to suicide three years later.
I wanted to talk about this part:
You ask me, why?
Why won't you fight?
You sew me up, your stitches tight.
It means that you can do everything for a person with depression. You can take them to Disneyland, you can buy them a whole new wardrobe, you can even teach them how to 'dance', but until they fight back themselves and 'sew themselves' up, nothing is ever going to change. It's a world of temporary fixes, like the good you do helps and keeps them just alive, but then all the happiness doesn't stay, it keeps falling away through cracks inside them into nothingness, so you have to keep starting from the beginning and teaching them how to 'dance' again and again. And through all that, you run the risk yourself of 'falling in too deep' through the cracks too, and succumbing to... maybe not depression, but more a kind of grief that you can't change things.
This was a huge thing, which definitely had an impact. It had enough impact in fact, TO change things. I know you'd think that nothing good could possibly come out of a suicide attempt, but something did. I have a massive reactions chapter to write now.
Also, that was the worst fight Santana ever had with her mom. None of the others were ever that kind of bad. I don't think she ever got over it. What I wrote was very close to what actually happened. She says the worst part in her mind was when she pushed her mom against the wall, she still can't forgive herself for that.
Three things:
1. The Rachel Berry face recognition issue, as shown on the show in S3's Promasaurus episode while Brittany chats to the prom committee and calls a random girl Rachel, is called 'Prosopagnosia' by the experts and I don't know why people with autism have some extent of it, I just know I often hope to hell that people keep their hair the same so I have some chance of identifying them.
2. "Santana" and I so much fun getting together and just singing stuff sometimes, though never actually in front of crowd. Here's Brittany's rap version of Build me up: /watch?v=CZ_zwDdxI_o
3. That actual bullying incident with "Zizes" didn't involve a slushie, it involved scissors to my hair to make me look like a boy, though they didn't get all that far with all the screaming. I figured the frozen drink was more 'Glee'… and also less painful to write about. I guess it shows though, why people with autism can be targets. We say stuff that gets already antagonistic people really riled up without knowing it, until they snap.
Also, that thing I wrote about empathy is also really true. When you get diagnosed, the first thing the professionals look for is how 'easy' it is for you to develop empathy. It's not actually a question of whether you can or can't have it. I've heard if you actually can't develop empathy at all that's called being a 'sociopath' and that's not autism. I wondered sometimes if Tomas was part developing sociopath. Anyway, speaking of, we have now finally seen the last of Tomas. Good riddance to him.
I actually think I wrote about 2000 words each day of the week for this update (just like the title). I feel that this is kind of nuts, even for me. :P
Edit: A quick note on "Maria Lopez" since I have done almost no characterization on her whatsoever because there is always too much to get through, lol. She differs from Gloria Estefan's character 100%. Lets just say Santana got all her brains from her dad. She was a dense, ditzy woman who was really only interested in her string of boyfriends. Santana hated every boyfriend she's ever had (to date) and did try to be as bratty as possible around them, particularly when she was little. She'd threaten to kill them their sleep and that. Maria was all about having Santana's problems fall on deaf ears. I went up to Maria this one time I was worried and said 'Santana is really upset, she needs you' and I don't even know if she did anything about it. I feel like she sided with Tomas because she's used to prioritizing her boyfriend. That, and she just pretty much never believed anything Santana said. She was not a nice lady.
Also the moment in the pool where I said Santana had a 'secret' ... I never actually said what the secret was, so nobody has missed anything. :) It's another big thing that I don't feel comfortable leaving out, but find hard to talk about, so I will try to have the balls to follow it up.