A/N – I am truly so sorry this has taken me so long. This story got a little triggering for me to write after Naya's passing. A few days after I updated this last my mom passed away. My mom struggled with addiction, so I needed some time. But I'm still determined to finish this story. Just bear with me.
/
One thing they don't tell you about getting sober is rehab is the easy part, it's staying sober that's the challenge. In rehab, your whole day is planned, there are always people to talk to, and all the triggers are nowhere to be found. You can't leave to get your fix. You can't call your dealer in the middle of the night to get your fix. You just have to be, and you get used to it real fast.
I've only been back in New York City for a few hours, and I feel like I haven't been here for years. It's different, I'm different. Every time I look somewhere, I remember what I used and who I used with. My skin burns at the feeling. I've been sober for three months but I'd be lying if I said that I never wanted to use again. That's the hard part about being out in the real world; there's reminders everywhere. The reminders make me want to escape but I almost died the last time I did that.
"San, your dad is here." Brittany said nudging my leg, pulling me from my trance.
I think I had a panic attack being back in that apartment. Every bad thing I've ever done came rushing back and it felt like the walls were closing in. My instinct told me to flee so I did, and I ran straight into Brittany in the process.
"Santana… what's wrong? What happened?" Brittany asked as she held me tight, allowing me to cry.
I felt like I couldn't breathe. I wanted to talk but the words just wouldn't come out. Brittany didn't pry. She's good like that. The only thing I could muster out was "can you call my dad?"
The thing that calmed me down was Brittany pulling out her phone and dialing his number. I love that after everything we've been through, she still has my dad's number in her phone.
I zoned out during their quick interaction. I just remember Brittany grabbing my arm and pulling me outside. I don't know if she knew that I needed to get out of there or maybe she just figured with my dad so close, it would be better to just wait for him outside, so he didn't have to park.
When he arrived, Brittany walked me to his car. I told my dad I couldn't stay there so he booked me a room in the hotel he was staying at for the night and told me we'd go looking for something else tomorrow. Brittany and my dad helped me load some of my belongings into the car. It was only then that I had fully come to and realized that Brittany was here, in New York, instead of in Massachusetts at MIT. What was she doing here? As Brittany was carrying my laptop bag out, I blurted it out.
"Brittany, what are you doing here?"
Brittany stopped in her tracks and turned to face me. "It's a long story." She shrugged. "The short version is I want to leave MIT and transfer somewhere else. I have a tour set up at Colombia and NYU in the next two days."
I was taken aback by this. "You, what?" I asked, shocked.
Brittany sighed and put the bag down. "It's been a long time coming."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"You had… other things going on."
"Britt…" I softened.
"I didn't mean that in a negative way. I'm glad that you have been focused on yourself." She said quickly. "I would have called to tell you I was coming down for a couple days, but I didn't want to stress you out or anything. I didn't know if you'd be back at Rachel and Kurt's or somewhere else so I was just going to see them to ask if I could crash for a few days when I ran into you. I want to tell you everything, Santana. If you want, I can come over and we can order food and talk. I know we've been on a roller coaster ride but at the end of the day, you're still my best friend."
I smiled at the sentiment before hugging her, feeling content in the notion of her hugging me back. "You're my best friend, too." I whispered before pulling away. "So, what do you want to eat?"
"Pizza, duh." Brittany winked.
"Of course." I laughed as I grabbed my bags and followed Brittany out the door.
/
"Britt, I'm so sorry that MIT is turning you into their own personal dummy to test on." I said after swallowing a bite of pizza.
Brittany shrugged as she shifted from her spot on the floor in the hotel room. There's only a small table so we decided to have a picnic type of set up on the floor. "It sucks but at least I'm able to transfer. I'm just scared that NYU or Colombia is going to treat me the same way. That's why I came here. I want to be sure, and I want to meet with everyone I can, so I have all the information."
"No, yeah, that's smart. So, is it just NYU and Colombia or are you meeting with more?"
"I've met with Boston College, UCLA, Harvard, and Brown. They're all pretty decent but I want to keep my options open. What about you? Any plans?"
Since I left rehab a whole eight hours ago, this has been the question I've been dreading the most. Truth be told, I don't even know who I am to make any plans yet.
I shook my head. "I'm not sure, yet."
Brittany smiled softly at me and nodded. "Well, whatever is next, I'm sure you're going to be great."
"Thanks." I whispered.
"I'm really proud of you, Santana." Brittany said, leaving me a tad stunned. "The hard part is over and now you move forward."
I gulped harshly. If you've never been an addict, it's hard to understand what it means to stay sober. Just because the drugs are out of my system doesn't mean I'm fixed. It doesn't mean I don't want them. Most addicts would be irate at Brittany's comment, but she doesn't fully understand the magnitude and honestly, I hope she never does because it's not exactly the greatest place to be in.
"I know it's easier said then done but I believe in you, Santana." We smiled at each other for a few seconds before Brittany looked at her watch. "I should get going. I have to get up early and I want to go over my notes."
"Well, thank you, for today." I nodded, reminding her of my meltdown in the hallway earlier.
Brittany smiled at me with those damn warm blue eyes and pulled me into her. "I will always be here for you, Santana." She whispered before breaking the hug and slipping on her shoes.
"Good luck tomorrow. Will you let me know how it goes?"
"Definitely." She nodded and turned on her heel before suddenly turning back around. "Oh, before I forget, Rachel put your mail in your laptop bag."
"Oh, thank you! Goodnight, Britt."
"Goodnight, Santana."
After Brittany left, I took a long hot shower and changed into my pajamas. It's been an insanely long day and I'm surprised to find myself wide awake. Normally on a night like this, I'd be in a club or at a bar or listening to Porcelain and Berry bicker about who was going to sing the lead in the song playing on the radio. Instead, I'm alone in a hotel room. There's no bar, no club, no Hummel, no Berry, no Brittany. There's just silence.
After flipping through the tv channels several times, I decided to go through some of my things to see what I had. It was mostly just clothes, chargers, and an old pack of cigarettes. I grabbed my laptop bag and opened it. Just as Brittany said, three months of mail was in there. It was mostly just fliers. There were a couple of bills that I needed to pay and my last check from the club. To my surprise, there was a letter from Emerson College. I had totally forgotten that I applied there in my early days in rehab in a desperate attempt to get Brittany back. Emerson is in Boston which is close to MIT. They have an awesome communications program and an awesome performing arts program as well.
I broke the seal and opened the envelope, waiting to be disappointed, but that didn't happen. They accepted me. It's not the hardest school to get into but I figured since I dropped out of Louisville, there was no way I'd get into another school. Maybe I could get into a school here. That could be a nice plan: go back to school, get my degree, get a good job. If Brittany could do it, why couldn't I?
/
Sleep didn't come until the sun was coming up. I lay awake thinking all night about my future, about the likelihood of relapse, about the amends I still needed to make. When my alarm went off, I groaned. I was meeting my new therapist at the outpatient center which was about a thirty-minute bus ride. I was instructed to arrive a few minutes early so I could fill out paperwork. I needed coffee. After dragging my ass out of bed, getting dressed, brushing my teeth, and doing my hair, I made my way to the lobby to fix myself a cup of coffee. It wasn't the best coffee in the world, but it would have to do.
Two buses later, I was at the outpatient center. My new therapist's name is Dr. Butts. What kind of name is that? It was a man in his mid-forties. He was nice but I didn't really feel like I could talk to him. What forty-year-old cis white man wants to hear the problems of a twenty-one-year-old Latina lesbian? Feeling defeated, I asked the receptionist if there was anyone else I could see next time. They're fully booked. Of course.
I wanted to go back to bed and never come out of my cocoon. My dad had other plans. We were apartment hunting. Fun.
After seeing a dozen apartments, we settled on a small studio apartment in Brooklyn. It was far from perfect. We only signed a month's lease in hopes of another one opening soon after. It was just a sublease but at least I was away from my old place.
My dad and I made several trips from my old place to my new place. Hummel and Berry welcomed me back to the city with warm hugs. I'll miss their banter but I'm happy to have my own space. When everything was inside my apartment, my dad stayed for dinner and then went back to his hotel room for the evening. He was leaving tomorrow and for the first time in a long time, my heart ached for him. I wished for just this night, I could be a little girl again and he could read to me and cuddle me and take care of me. The only thing that is louder than NYC is silence.
/
Since I have my own apartment now, I spent the next day grocery shopping and unpacking the necessities. I didn't want to unpack everything because I'll most likely only be here for a month. I'm exhausted after another restless night but at least I have things to occupy my time.
After filling my fridge and unpacking, the silence consumed me again. After pacing for a few minutes, I decided to go for a walk and try to clear my head. I grabbed my coat and the old pack of cigarettes I found. Fuck it. I can't use drugs, but a cigarette isn't going to kill me.
I walked out the doors and into the cool air. It was almost wintertime and it got dark earlier. I pulled the cigarettes out of my pocket and lit one, taking a long drag. I regretted that instantly. Suddenly, my head was rushing, and I felt like I was going to vomit. It was like a bad batch of cocaine, only it was just nicotine. My heart raced as I tried to steady myself, reminding myself that this feeling was only temporary. I tossed the cigarette on the ground and put it out with my foot. After a few minutes the nausea and the dizziness started to subside.
"Fuck." I said to myself as I turned around to walk back inside.
"Holy shit, Santana Lopez." A voice called from the dark.
I knew that voice. I may have been fucked up, but I knew that voice.
"Sophia."
"Thought you were dead." She snarked.
"I was." I retorted harshly.
"And here you are." She smirked, taking a drag off her cigarette. "I'm headed to the club if you're looking. Paul has a fresh batch of some good shit. I can get you a deal."
"No, thanks." I said as I quickly turned on my heel to retreat back inside.
"Ah, I get it. You're sober now, aren't you?" She asked but I just froze. "What step are you on? Or here, let me help you 'God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change… how does the rest go?"
"Back off." I warned.
Sophia chuckled. "You know you can't stay sober. The Santana Lopez I know will do anything that anyone puts in front of her. Keep lying to yourself. I'll be here when you're honest with yourself."
Sophia walked away as I stayed frozen, trying not to let her into my head. After she was out of sight, I went back inside and slumped to the ground once inside the door. "Santana, you can do this…" I told myself aloud.
There was a knock at my door which scared the shit out of me. My heart raced as I thought perhaps Sophia had followed me and found out where I lived. I swung the door open to see Brittany standing there.
"Are you okay?" she asked hesitantly.
I took a deep breath, relieved that it was Brittany and not Sophia. "Yeah, sorry. I thought you were- "I started but shook my head "What's up?"
"I'm going to NYU!" She cheered, throwing her fists in the air. "Well, I can't enroll for a year because I missed the deadline but still."
"Britt! That's great!" I cheered.
"The gang and I are going bowling to celebrate and I want you to come. I see you already have your coat on so no excuses. You're coming with us."
"Well, if you insist." I smirked.
"I do."
/
We had two lanes at the bowling alley. Since there was five of us – me, Kurt, Blaine, Rachel, and Brittany – Brittany decided to make the teams even that she would play on both teams. She joked about that since she's bisexual. I hadn't bowled in ages, and it showed. Brittany won both games we played and after that, we decided to take a break. The gang went to the bar to grab some food while I stepped outside for some air.
Have you ever been in a room full of people, people who love you even, and you've never felt more alone in your life? I feel like a zombie that's just roaming around aimlessly. Everyone is happy, truly happy, and I feel like I'm just a shell of a person. I don't know who I am anymore or where I belong, but I know in my heart, it isn't here.
"There you are." I heard Brittany say behind me.
"Hey." I smiled, turning my upper body to face her before turning back around.
She sat down on the curb next to me. "You okay?"
"Yeah, I just needed a minute." I assured her, rubbing my hands on my thighs to warm them.
"You know, there's things that are different about you, but some things are the same. What's going on in that head of yours?" She asked, hitting her knee against mine.
I laughed. Leave it to Brittany. The girl can read me like a book.
"Come on, spill." She begged.
"It's your night, Britt. We've been talking about me for way too long." I remarked.
Brittany shrugged, looking at me with those caring blue eyes. "Tell me anyway."
"I need to leave." I blurted.
"Okay, well, we can go if you want- "
"No." I shook my head. "I mean, I need to leave New York."
A/N – I've been rewatching Brittana scenes and I miss them so much. Don't be shocked if I write a bunch of prompts.