Hi, I do not own Glee. Please review :)
This chapter features how they made up and the story behind the shirt that Brittany made for Santana.
Coach Sue put dirt on Santana's and Brittany's lockers for revenge so when they opened their lockers, heaps of dirt sprayed towards them.
"I don't even remember putting it there." Brittany said, trying to wipe the dirt off her face.
Santana gave her a bewildered look and hesitantly said "Ugh. Come, let's clean up." gesturing Brittany to come with her. They walked towards the nearest female restroom.
They changed their clothes on separate stalls and after that, they helped each other clean remnants of dirt all over their bodies. The whole time, Brittany felt like Santana was still avoiding her. When Santana finished wiping the last speck of dirt off Brittany's face with a wet towel, Brittany broke the awkward silence. "It's been a while since we've been alone in a room together."
"This isn't a room." Santana tried to brush the topic away. "So, if you're good, then I'm gonna go now. I took your clothes. I'll just leave them at your locker after it's washed." Santana stood up and started walking slowly towards the exit. Please don't make me go.
Brittany grasped for her hand before it became out of reach. "Don't go." Brittany muttered. "I miss you. I miss our friendship. I miss our sweet lady kisses. I miss everything related to you. You don't have to avoid me, San."
She turned to look at Brittany. Her tears were about to fall. "You chose Artie over me, Britt. What am I supposed to-"
She couldn't bear to see Santana like that. Before Santana finished her sentence, Brittany stood up and kissed her. Softly, asking for permission.
Santana was surprised with what Brittany did. Her heart started beating faster. This. This is what she longed to do. Her lips trembled at the contact. Slowly, she parted her lips and Brittany's tongue entered. She wrapped her arms around Brittany's neck, while Brittany wrapped her arms around her waist. And then there was no space, no time, no border that separated them. Santana's guard came crashing down.
Brittany slowly pulled away, stroking Santana's back in the process. "That," she met Santana's eyes, "is how much I've missed you. And it's pretty clear that you missed me too. Please, don't avoid me anymore. It doesn't have to be much like before, I just want us to be friends again in the meantime."
Santana closed her eyes. Was she ready to welcome Brittany to her life again? Of course she was. She can never be too angry at Brittany. It was her curse. "Fine. But baby steps, please."
It's been a few days after they started talking again. Santana was trying to get Kurt back to New Directions. With the help of Karofsky, her beard, they successfully made Kurt transfer back to McKinley High. She made everyone think that she was doing the anti-bullying campaign for Kurt, but she wasn't. She was doing it for herself. She was doing it so that Brittany would think of her as the better person. Selfish, yes, but only because it stung to be so close to Brittany yet not close enough. Maybe that's what she should write on her shirt: selfish. This week, their assignment was about accepting yourself, mainly because of what Rachel Berry was going through. They were to write on the shirt about that. Santana thought about it again: bitch. Straight-up fucking bitch. She smirked as she made her shirt. However, at the back of her mind, the deepest part of her heart shouted that being a bitch isn't her insecurity, it was something else. She was about to make a shirt that says 'likes girls' but she couldn't. It was something so huge for her that she couldn't accept. She walked out of the choir room, leaving the spare shirt behind. She decided to wear. her 'bitch' shirt, even though it was a big, fat lie. She thought of what Brittany would say about her shirt, but then Brittany had no longer any say on her decisions. Not anymore.
As Brittany walked through the hallways of McKinley, her thoughts wandered. Santana started dating Karofsky. Thinking about Santana and Karofsky together made Brittany shiver in disgust. How could Santana tell her that she loves her and continue dating the wrong person? She shrugged and tried to think of something else. She remembered that week's assignment: to think of something that you were born with that could count as your insecurity, learn to slowly accept it and make a shirt. She thought of her insecurity: her stupidity. Nothing else comes to mind. She went inside the choir room to make her shirt. When she was done making hers, she saw a spare shirt, clean and unprinted. She checked the size to see that it was a good fit for Santana, she was sure of it. She knew Santana's size so well that checking for Santana's size was much like checking her own. She decided to use that shirt to make one for Santana too. Think about something that would help Santana accept herself. Lesbian? No, that would make Santana frightened. Something less obvious... Lebanese. Sounds like it, and with Santana being Hispanic, it could mean another thing. She smiled at her idea.
Brittany thought that the perfect time to give the shirt to Santana was on the day that they'll wear their respective shirts and perform Born This Way, so on that day, she approached Santana and showed off her shirt that said 'I'm with stoopid'. Santana showed hers as well and Brittany was a bit disappointed with the 'bitch' shirt.
"Well…I made a different one for you." she unfolded the shirt that said: Lebanese. She smiled proudly while showing it off.
Santana scrunched her brows while reading it. Lebanese? But she isn't Lebanese. "I'm Hispanic." she said, quite irritated by the fact that Brittany forgot her ethnicity. But then it clicked. "Wait, was that supposed to be "Lesbian"?" she whispered the last word. Woah, that shirt is way off her comfort zone.
"Yeah, isn't that what it says?" she smiled coolly, pretending like she didn't know how it's really spelled. "When you told me all that stuff the other week, it meant so much to me. To see you be so honest. Especially 'cause I know how bad it hurt. I was so proud of you." she smiled at her and mentally patted Santana. Brittany knew how sensitive the subject was so she took it slow so that she won't be scared off.
Santana panicked. Brittany was implying for her to come out. She isn't ready for that. No way. She's asking for too much. "Yeah, well don't get used to it. And certainly don't even think about telling anyone."
She frowned. "Why not? You're like the most awesome-est girl at this school." or anywhere, in the world. "Why would you try to hide any of that?" she's pushing her limit. She knew that Santana's trust hasn't completely grown back, but still, she had to try. She loves Santana too much to let her hide in that closet she calls home.
"I'm dating Karofsky now." she couldn't really say anything that would convince Brittany otherwise, but Santana really hates losing, especially losing to that kind of argument, so she brought out the beard card. She hated rubbing it off to Brittany's face. She wants to date her, not Karofsky.
"It's gross." Brittany blurted out, even before she could think of something a little less harsh to say.
Santana agreed with Brittany in her mind, but then snapped at her. "You don't get a say in who I date anymore." after Brittany rejected her, she lost that right.
"Why not, because I'm dating somebody? Because you're Lebanese and I think I'm bi-curious?" Brittany answered a little too quickly. Her patience was reaching the limit. She curled her fist at the shirt. Logically speaking, Santana has rejected her more often she rejects Santana. She doesn't have the right to tell her that.
Santana was hurt by Brittany's tone. "No. Because I said I love you. You didn't say you loved me back." it was the truth. Even if Brittany told Santana that she loves her back, she also told her that she loves Artie too, then she rejected her. Santana doesn't believe that one can love two people at the same time. The love that Brittany was talking about is probably limited to friendship.
Her patience was all gone. She loosened her grip on the shirt, "I do love you." she shoved the shirt to Santana. "Clearly you don't love you as much as I do or you'd put the shirt on and you would dance with me." she gave Santana an I'm-disappointed-in-you look, then she stormed off, pissed at her. She loved her, she loved her so much... and yet, why can't she make her see the ball of awesomeness that is Santana Lopez?
Before the performance of Born This Way, Brittany was looking for Santana. She wasn't there. Brittany frowned and sighed. She shrugged it off and decided to make the performance about her, not Santana, or anyone. The performance will be about accepting her fatal flaw. "I must temporarily forget her." she muttered.
Quinn looked at Brittany at a weird way. Brittany tilted her head in confusion. Quinn simply smiled, and patted her back. "Don't worry about her now, Britt. Let's enjoy the performance. Worry about her later."
"What are you talking about? Are you talking about Lady Tubbington?" Brittany waved her hand and tilted her head, pretending not to know.
Quinn let out a quiet laugh. "No, silly." she leaned closer to whisper. "I know." with emphasis on the 'know'. Quinn continued. "She probably got cold feet if she's going to wear what I think she will wear. You know her better than I do."
"She didn't even want the shirt that I made for her." Brittany frowned. She remembered how Santana rejected her. It made her sad.
"She will come to her senses. You'll see." she gave Brittany a quick peck on the cheek.
Brittany looked in front, looking for Santana, hoping that she'll come, but there was still no sign of her. She looked back to Mr. Schue, who opened his shirt that says butt chin. Rachel came by and said something but she didn't really care so she didn't hear but she laughed along with the crowd when Rachel showed her shirt.
Artie asked where Santana was. Sam said with utter bitterness that she was probably out somewhere making out with Karofsky. Brittany flinched at that thought. She shook it off and focused on what was about to happen.
Kurt started to sing. "It doesn't matter if you love him, or capital H-I-M..."
Santana was left holding the shirt that says 'lebanese' on it. She stared at the shirt and thought about Brittany. She made the shirt for her, hoping that she'd accept it. But instead, she chickened out and disappointed Brittany. Santana leaned on her locker, deep in thought. She hugged the shirt and was mentally saying 'I'm sorry. I'm sorry Brittany.' until someone tapped her shoulder; she looked behind to see Dave looking at her with concern.
"Hey, um... baby?" Dave said, unsure of what to call her. He looked at her and was suprised that Santana looked like she was crying. "You okay?"
"What do you want?" she said, still hugging the shirt.
"You told... or rather, commanded me to watch the performance of New Directions later in the auditorium?" he placed his hand in his pocket. "I didn't wanna go in there alone. Someone might see." he looked at Santana's arms and saw the shirt. "Are you going to wear that?"
She thought about what Dave asked. Was she? Was she willing to risk her reputation and wear it for Brittany? She gulped. "Um... w-wait a sec. I'mma change."
"Sure thing. I'll wait here." he leaned on the lockers and smiled at her. A random student passed and he smirked at the guy. The random guy quickly ran away from him.
Santana hurried to the nearest restroom and barged into a stall. She quickly removed her jacket and her shirt. She stared at the other shirt for a long while until she started to feel cold. "Okay, for Britt. Let's do this." she wore the shirt and stepped out of the stall. She stared at her reflection for a few more minutes until she realized that she might already be late. She opened the door of the restroom and saw a student pass by; she quickly shut the door. Can she really do this? "For Brittany. For Brittany." she thought of what Brittany's reaction might be if she wore the shirt. That smile. That smile will keep her going. That smile is what she needs.
When the two entered the auditorium, the New Directions were already halfway through the song. Santana sighed. She didn't make it. Just because she was so afraid. She sat in one of the chairs and Karofsky followed. She watched Brittany, who was dancing with all her heart. She longed to be dancing with her. Santana listened to the lyrics of the song. She looked at her shirt. Lebanese. Lesbian. She was born that way but she couldn't accept it. She thought of Brittany, who made the shirt for her. Brittany thought she was awesome and she accepted her. Maybe she should learn to accept herself too...
"I'm on the right track baby I was born this way, hey!" she sang the last line, clapping her hands to the beat. When the song ended, she looked in front to see Santana seating beside Karofsky. Brittany squinted her eyes and saw that Santana was wearing the shirt that she made. She wore it. Even if she didn't dance with her, she still wore the shirt. And that was enough to make her happy. To make her proud of Santana.