Title: Beautiful Today
Pairing: Brittany/Santana
Summary: 'She hates what she sees. She hates it all, because Quinn told her to.' Santana needs saving, but no one seems to notice. Brittana.
Spoilers: None.
Warnings: Deals with self harm and eating disorders throughout.
Authors Note: Horribly, horribly slow update. I actually had half of this written the same night that I posted chapter four, but then life happened. I have a three day weekend, so I thought now would be a good time to get this up. College is taking over my life, but I will try to get better with the updates.
This one is kinda short, but I need to get something up here. Plus, it's kind of important to the rest of the story. I have future chapters planned, some half-written, so it's all starting to come together now. Hopefully that will help speed me up a little. Anyway, thank you to everyone for reading! And thank you twice to those that review :)
Contains self-harm and eating disorders. If either of these things are a trigger to you, please think before reading on.
CHAPTER FIVE
'I promise I won't drink from the carton.'
"I'm sorry to have had to call you," Mrs Pierce apologised as she moved aside, allowing the slightly shorter woman enough room to enter. She smiled politely as she closed the door behind her, nodding towards the sitting room. "She said that she feels a little better now, but you know what it's like with kids" she laughed, trailing off when she realised that Santana's mother wasn't joining in. The woman simply offered a thin smile, walking in the direction that Mrs Pierce had pointed her hand. "Santana..." she voiced as she moved ahead, entering the room first, "your mom's here."
Santana smiled appreciatively, Brittany also looking up from her position next to her friend. She had her hand in Santana's again, and she had done since they were in the bathroom. She didn't want to let go, she wanted to make sure that she was okay. The only way to do that was to stay with her, all the time, no matter what. She frowned as she heard her mother introduce Santana's, knowing that she was about to be taken away. Brittany was usually the one that people felt the need to protect, and if the girl was honest, it felt good to have people care. She knew that she was needed here, however, and she felt compelled to her loyalty. She squeezed Santana's hand tightly as a short, latina woman entered the room.
"Hi honey," her mother smiled as her eyes met her daughters. The younger girl's eyes were apologetic and small, and Mrs Lopez quickly walked to her side, placing a soft hand on her cheek. "What's wrong?"
"I don't know," Santana lied, smiling at the feel of her mother touching her cheek, of her uncharacteristically soft voice.
"Her temperature shot up earlier," Mrs Pierce added as she herself moved towards the girls, "and she completely lost her appetite."
Mrs Lopez nodded, concern in her eyes, a concern that Santana hadn't seen in so long. She wanted to blurt it out then, right there; while she had her mother's attention, while it felt like the older woman cared. It seemed like such an easy option, to talk to her and explain why she felt so ill, explain what made her suddenly dizzy and unable to function. She looked into her mother's brown eyes, the eyes that were finally focused one hundred percent on her, and her mouth edged open.
That's when the sound of a cell phone filled the room.
The woman's hand quickly retreated from her daughter's face, reaching into her pocket to pull out the device. She examined the screen before glancing down at Santana, the focus no longer there. "It's work, sweetie," she excused simply before edging out of the room and back into the hallway.
Mrs Pierce was perplexed. The woman's daughter was ill, she had told her how she had suddenly become so unwell. She had told Mrs Lopez, yet the woman had still taken a call that she was sure could have waited. If this was Brittany, there was no way anything or anyone could stop her from making sure she was okay. Even that one time that she had taken Brittany to the hospital for a simple cold, she had felt like the shouting at from the receptionist was worth it. She had taken note, every time she had been ill afterwards, that her daughter had a tendency to over-exaggerated, but that never stopped her from doing everything she could.
She looked back in Santana's direction as the woman stepped out of the room, seeing her head drop and a sad, pitiful smile on her face. Mrs Pierce's brows furrowed. "I'm sure it was important, honey," she offered in words of comfort.
Santana shook her head, shrugging. "It's okay..."
It wasn't. It wasn't okay, Mrs Pierce decided, it was anything but okay. This child was fourteen, and all night she had heard tales of her mother and father that shocked both the older Pierce and her husband. Santana, though she tried to mask it, was affected by the behaviour.
Before she could reply, Mrs Lopez rushed back into the room, quickly scrambling her cell into the bag that clung to her arm. "Santana, sweetie, I have to go to this last minute meeting. I'll call the sitter, make sure she's there for you when we get home," she explained, frantic in her actions and with eyes that were telling her daughter to hurry.
Before Mrs Pierce could object, point out how ridiculous that was, Santana was on her feet. Her shoulders were slumped, the frown growing further as she allowed Brittany's hand to finally fall from her own. She smiled a quick, sad smile down at the blonde, before taking a step in her mother's direction.
"No," Mrs Pierce finally offered, managing to somehow stutter with the one-syllable word. Santana quickly turned to face her, Mrs Lopez pausing in her stride. Mrs Pierce glanced quickly at Brittany, seeing a curious look in her daughter's eyes, before finding Santana's. She could see a glimmer of hope, almost desperation, and that was enough to spur her on. "If you have somewhere to be, then maybe it is best for Santana to stay. It's a Friday night, and she has a friend here."
Mrs Lopez thought for a moment, raising a brow as she took a step back into the room. One quick glance at her daughter confirmed her opinion on the matter; pleading eyes and her head nodding affirmatively. "It would be best for you to be with someone who can really look after you..." she voiced, still focused on her daughter.
Santana nodded again, smiling slightly. "Please?" she added as Brittany got to her feet, walking toward her mother with a thankful grin. Both the older and younger Pierce women had been surprised by Santana's mother, by how willing she was to simply leave her ill daughter for work.
Brittany knew that her mother would never, ever do that. She didn't want Santana to be left alone, and if she had her choice, she wouldn't let Santana leave until she was completely sure that she was okay. She looked so unwell in the bathroom, so upset, and the memory was imprinted in Brittany's mind. "I promise I will look after her," she offered, nodding frantically.
Santana glanced at her and smiled a small, friendly smile. She found herself chuckling at the excited - yet trying it's best not to be - look on the blonde's face. Subtlety clearly wasn't Brittany's strong point.
"If you're okay with that, honey..." Mrs Lopez interrupted, catching Santana's attention again.
Her smile lessened, but she nodded nevertheless.
"Okay then," her mother agreed, allowing a small smile to hint on her lips. She moved towards her daughter, placing a soft hand on her cheek again. "I'm sorry about this, mija. You know how busy I get..."
"It's okay," Santana lied, a sadness in her voice that her mother never seemed to notice. She clearly didn't this time, either, as she placed a quick kiss on Santana's forehead and pulled back with a grin.
"I will come by and pick you up first thing tomorrow morning. If you need anything, I have my cell. Make sure that you don't call my work number, I don't want it ringing during the meeting."
Mrs Pierce felt her mouth fall further agape. One moment, this woman seemed like a wonderful mother, caring and soft. Then the next, she said something terrible, something that didn't even seem to affect her daughter. When Mrs Pierce glanced at Brittany and saw that her eyebrows were furrowed uncomfortably, she felt relieved that she wasn't the only one that didn't understand what she was seeing. She wasn't deluded, she knew that sometimes parents weren't really fit to be given the title, but to see it first hand made her blood boil. She saw glimpses of a good mother, but then she saw the woman that put work before her child, and that just didn't sit right with her. She took a few small steps before reaching out and placing a hand on Santana's shoulder. "I'm sure we'll be fine," she said as calmly as possible, trying to mask the defensiveness that she felt in her own voice.
Mrs Lopez simply took one last look at the woman, smiled, and turned towards the door. Her steps became a light jog as she neared her exit. "Feel better, honey" she threw over her shoulder, opening the door and letting herself out seconds later.
Mrs Pierce quickly replaced the frown on her face with a smile, squeezing Santana's shoulder before the girl turned to look at her through defeated eyes. "So," she began in a lighter tone, "hot chocolates before bed?"
Brittany clapped excitedly, almost jumping on the spot at her mother's offer. "She makes the best hot chocolate!" she assured as her mother grinned and headed towards the kitchen. "She uses marshmallows and everything. How many do you want?"
Santana smiled at the blonde as she began to skip after her mother, following her much more calmly seconds later. "I'll just have the hot chocolate, please" she excused as she edged her way into the room, a smiling Brittany already at her mother's side. The resemblance was even more striking that before; not just in the way that they looked, but the way that their eyes would light up at something as simple as hot chocolate, the way that they both sent quick, small smiles in Santana's direction to make sure that she didn't feel left out. There was a warmth within this place, these people, that she doesn't remember ever feeling before. If it was possible on the first visit, the Pierce household felt even more like home than her own. "Thank you," she said without thinking, a smile that she hadn't even noticed sitting on her lips.
Mrs Pierce looked up, away from the mugs, and two sets of kind blue eyes fell on the latina. "You are always welcome here, Santana," she grinned. "Any friend of Brittany's is more than okay with us."
Santana's smile grew as she nodded, looking down at the ground as the heat in her cheeks rose. She was blushing, and she wasn't even sure why. She just felt so accepted, so...liked, that it made her cheeks ache from the constant grin that clung to her face. She was definitely glad that she had agreed to meet this woman. So glad. "I'll make sure I leave early tomorrow, Mrs Pierce. My mom should be awake early for work anyway."
"Nonsense!" she shot back instantly, shaking her head as she poured liquid into the cups before her. "It's a Saturday, there's no rush. Oh, and it's Emily. We'll have no more of that 'Mrs Pierce'."
"Sorry," Santana offered, eyes falling again.
Mrs Pierce frowned. "Don't be."
"You can have the right side," Brittany announced as she entered the room again, now dressed in her pink pyjamas and with a friendly smile on her lips.
Santana nodded, taking a step towards the bed. She didn't know what to do, she had never actually slept at someone else's house before, on someone else's bed. She had simply stood in the middle of the room, waiting for Brittany to return. "Do you always sleep on the left?" she asked, sitting upon the bed tentatively.
Brittany shook her head, turning on the TV that sat on her desk. "I always sleep on the right, so it's softer," she smiled, taking a few steps before turning off the light, the dark room lit only by the glow of the TV.
Santana smiled back, again her cheeks becoming quickly hot. She hoped that this would stop eventually, especially considering the nature of the blonde. She seemed to be genuine with her kind words, her smiles; and they never, ever failed to make Santana a little lost for words. Sometimes her heart would beat really fast too, like right now, and she would feel her entire body suddenly become warm. She wasn't sure if it was a good feeling or a bad one, as she sat and rubbed her sweaty palms together, but it was one that she hadn't felt before. It had to be good, she concluded, because there was still a smile on her lips. "Your mom lets you watch the TV at night?" Santana asked, surprised.
"It helps me to sleep," the other girl explained as she finally reached the bed, climbing on and sitting next to Santana. That weird heart thing happened again, the latina noticed. "She usually comes in to turn it off when she goes to bed." Receiving a nod from Santana, Brittany smiled. She pushed herself further onto the bed, onto the left side, and pulled the covers up. The mattress didn't feel the same; it felt harder, colder than her half.
Santana did the same once she saw the blonde move, making her way to sit beside the her, awkward in her movements while trying consciously not to be. She lifted up the comforter on her side, allowing her legs to slip underneath, and smiled at the slight smell of Brittany that escaped with the movement. The mattress was soft, much like the blonde had said, and she felt instantly comfortable. Her heart was still doing the stupid thing, though, but she managed to somehow focus elsewhere.
It didn't take long at all for the silence to be filled with the rhythmic breathing of the girl beside her, a sound that Santana wished she had tried to prevent. She was now lying alone, in a strange room, a strange house. She was alone with her thoughts, thoughts that weren't really there at all. She couldn't help but think about her mom, about how she was so quick to leave, cursing herself for still being surprised by it. She thought about Brittany's mom, about how she wished she was hers. She thought about Brittany. She smiled as she remembered the concerned look on Brittany's face when she had rushed to her side, but then a frown quickly crept into it's place when she realised why it had been present in the first place. That brought her back to her mom, her house.
She sighed, resigned to the fact that her thoughts were simply going around in repetitive, painful circles, and allowed her head to fall to the side. She watched Brittany's back as her shoulders moved gently with each breath. Her light blonde hair was draped across the pillow, much softer than Santana's and just as peaceful as the sleeping girl that bore it. The smile was back on her lips again, but she still knew that she wouldn't be able to sleep.
She pushed herself up slightly, almost in a sitting position, and sighed again. Her eyes were on the ceiling now, watching the dull darkness that illuminate every now and then with each change of scene from the television. Sleeping here was a bad idea, she concluded. Not only would she not sleep tonight, but she would have to spend breakfast with the Pierce's tomorrow. They ate together, at a table, like families did. Santana couldn't simply ignore the pains in her stomach and skip breakfast, because there would be someone there now. Someone there to call her out on it.
"Are you okay?"
The voice brought Santana quickly from her short-lived thoughts, and she glanced down at the source. Brittany was lying on her back, her body contorted as she tried to get a better look at Santana. Her eyes were squinting as she began to rub them, clearly trying her best to clear her vision and focus. Her voice was groggy, and again Santana felt herself involuntarily grinning. She simply nodded in reply, not wanting to keep the girl up.
"Why are you still awake?" she asked, groaning as she pushed herself further to the side, her eyes finally settling on Santana.
The smaller girl glanced behind Brittany, at the alarm clock on the bedside table, and was surprised to read the time. It had been over an hour since they had settled into bed. She hadn't realised just how lost in her own thoughts she must have been. She shrugged, finally acknowledging the question, and smiled thinly. "I couldn't sleep."
"You couldn't?" Brittany's confused voice replied as she allowed her arm to bend beneath her own head, acting as a pillow. "I gave you the comfy side..."
"It's not that," Santana chuckled, her smile becoming genuine. "I've never...done this before."
"...been to sleep?"
She laughed again, shaking her head. "No. I mean..." she trailed off, bowing her head coyly. It was embarrassing, the fact that she had never slept outside of her own house. Everyone had, especially by the time they were fourteen. There was slumber parties, sleep overs, family visits that went on just that little bit to long. Well, there should have been. Even when she did have friends, she would always avoid the sleepovers that weren't held at her house. Most of them were, so it wasn't a stretch to have 'other plans' every time the concept of staying at somebody else's house arose. She even managed to talk her way out of slumber parties held at Quinn's house. She didn't even know why, but she just never felt comfortable. "I've never slept at somebody else's house before," she finally admitted quietly, almost a whisper.
There was a moment of silence that followed her confession, and though she didn't look up, she was sure that Brittany's face was one of shock. She waited for the sound of biting laughter, but it never came. Instead, the silence just continued. "What about slumber parties?" the other girl finally asked.
"I've never been to one."
Silence settled again, though it didn't last long this time. "Wow..." the blonde voiced absently, rolling onto her back again. "But...what about birthdays? People always have slumber parties for their birthdays. I have one every year, ever since I was ten."
Santana didn't reply. She simply met Brittany's eyes for a brief second, shrugged, and again let her head fall. It didn't feel great, having Brittany point out the obvious. She knew that it was the done thing to have sleepovers for your birthday, she had overheard countless conversations during classes about them; seen invitations, tolerated the excited giggling. She even had her own, the same year that Quinn had decided that she didn't exist for anything other that constant berating. She had organised it, invited people that promised they would attend. They didn't, and she was left alone with her pitying mother and a room full of party food. She ate it all that night, and her mother – who had promised to take the night off work – had found herself again sat behind her desk. She never planned anything like that again.
"So," the blonde let out as she sat up, pulling her comforter further onto her body as she brought her knees up to her chest. She leaned back against the headboard behind her, turning to look at Santana seconds later. "...what should we do?"
Santana shrugged, still not looking up. Her hair was curtaining her face again, making her heart's rapid beating slow.
"We could talk...until you're tired."
She shrugged again, though after realising that the girl was trying, she managed a nod. She had bothered to wake herself up just to occupy the latina, and she wasn't going to act like she wasn't grateful. She forced a smile onto her lips as she lifted her gaze, her hair no longer concealingly her expression, and finally met Brittany's eyes.
"Awesome," the taller girl beamed, all traces of exhaustion seemingly gone from her face. "We could play twenty questions. My sister always plays twenty questions with me. The fun kind, not the boring kind. Do you know how to play?"
Santana shook her head. "I've never played it."
"It's really easy," Brittany replied quickly, turning slightly so her right shoulder was now against the headboard and her body was facing the other girl. "We just ask twenty questions about each other, and then answer them. My mom always said that it was a good way of finding out things about new people," she rambled, receiving a more genuine smile in her direction.
"What do we ask?"
"Anything." She seemed to grow in excitement now, as she moved herself to sit facing Santana completely, cross-legged beside the girl. "You want to go first?"
Santana shook her head, herself sitting up a little straighter in anticipation of the game. She knew that it should terrify her, to be playing this game with someone she barely knew, but this was Brittany. It didn't feel like she barely knew her. And if she was honest, she wanted to know more about the blonde. This was a much easier way than just asking. Just asking was scary. "I can't think of anything."
"Okay," Brittany nodded, pausing to think for a moment. "Do you drink straight out of the milk carton?"
After a second of thinking the bizarre question through, Santana broke into a laugh. "What?"
"Do you?"
"Um...why?"
"It's one of the questions," Brittany explained with raised brows, as if it was something she was truly intrigued about. "You have to answer."
"Okay," Santana chuckled, shaking her head humorously. "Sometimes."
"That's gross," Brittany remarked, face full of disgust as her brows furrowed disapprovingly.
Santana scoffed, shaking her head. She couldn't help the smile that crept onto her lips. "No one else even drinks the milk."
"It doesn't matter," the blonde stated instantly. "When we're older, you're not drinking our milk out of the carton."
Santana's eyes widened at the words, and she suddenly forgot how to speak. She knew that it was wrong, and that anyone would call her silly for thinking so, but she always assumed that she would be alone when she was older. She had spent almost all of her life alone already, around people that were present yet extremely absent in all of the ways that mattered. She never even humoured the idea of living with anybody, of having a friend, of having someone that would want to spend their days with her. And here was Brittany, telling her that she not only wants them to be sharing milk when they're older, but that she wants to know Santana every day until then. She wanted them to grow up together, and that thought alone brought that feeling back into Santana's chest; to her fingertips, her stomach. Only this time, it was times about fifty.
"What?" Brittany asked, seeing the bewildered look on Santana's face.
Santana quickly blinked away her wide-eyed stare, swallowing hard and focusing on finding some words. Any words. "Um, nothing," she managed finally, shaking her head. She stared at the bed for a moment, thinking about the words, playing them over and over in her head. An inevitable smile replaced the confused half-frown instantly, and she slowly raised her gaze, finding the sincere yet confused blue of Brittany's. Growing up with Brittany suddenly seemed like the most amazing thing in the world. She thought then that maybe her heart racing, thudding; maybe it wasn't the bad, scary thing that it felt. Maybe it was a good thing. Maybe it was the best thing, in fact.
"I promise I won't drink from the carton."
throwing-dynamite: Thanks, that really means a lot. I worry about how Santana is portrayed, because of how she is on the show and how it's so different. That will come later, though, so we'll see her progression into that. That's when Quinn will feature most, too. Thanks again for the review :)
fashionpoetry: Wow! Thanks so much :) I'm really glad that you're enjoying it. Santana needs depth, maybe not to the extremities as I like to write, but depth nonetheless :P I hope she gets explored further throughout the rest of season two.
AthousandTimesMore: Wow, thank you so much for your comment :) I'm glad that it sounds realistic. Reading people's accounts and experiences has really helped, but incorporating Brittany into this is difficult, though incredibly satisfactory. I sort of like finally writing some small amount of happiness into Santana's life, even if the rest of it is so out of control. Thanks again for such an long review! I hope you stick with the story, and that I can keep you entertained.
heyalove: Thank you so much! :) I'm glad that you're liking it so far. Sorry about the slow wait for the review!
leyton426: As they grow closer, I think it would be difficult for Brittany to not notice something. Thanks for the review, and I'm glad you're liking the story so far! :)
Miknge: To be honest, I didn't fully understand how hard it was until I got looking online. It was actually quite daunting reading real stories and accounts, because I knew I would have to go pretty far with it. Thanks for the review, and I'm glad that you liked the hand-holding :) I tried to make it subtle and natural, while also being a big thing within the story. Thanks again!
Quiroz: Thank you! :) And that feeling of not knowing how to feel about the boob job prompted this whole thing, so I understand how you feel. Exploring insecurities is always interesting, especially when you're writing a character like Santana.
ILH15: Thanks for the long review! I am pretty sure that this will be a story that I stick with, even when I get writers block or really don't feel into it, I just really need to finish it...if that makes sense haha. It's something different that I haven't written about before, and there's so much depth that you can give Santana's character, and her and Birttany are also really sweet to write. I just need it to have some sort of ending, or I don't think I would forgive myself lol. I hope that everything with your dieting is better now, and it's crap that you had to go through that. I think I've decided already on the point in which the problem comes to a head, just got a long road to get there :) Thanks again! (and NOBODY with a brain could not love Brittany.)
myuselessattemptisuseless: Thank you! I'm slow with the reply, but I am feeling better now, thank you :) I hope you enjoyed this chapter!
you don't know my name: Thanks for the comment and the get well soon-ness :) I want to kick Santana's mother all the time while I write this. It's weird writing someone that you want to just like...wake up, if that makes sense. I don't want to write her as the villain, just the woman that is completely lost and doesn't really have any sort of perspective on her life anymore. She will be explored more as the story progresses, and hopefully people will sort of sympathise with her, even if she is a total bitch right now. Thanks again!
Fionalovesparamore: Thanks very much :) I'm glad that the pinky thing was a hit, I thought giving it a back-story would be cool.
HappyShannon: I'm glad that I've managed to write it in a way that makes you feel like that. Thanks so much for your review! :)