W is for Wish

"Does Brittany still believe in Santa Claus?"

Santana looked over to the blonde lying close to her in the narrow twin bed of her dorm room, nevertheless managing to touch as little of her body as was possible in the small space allotted to them both. She had come to visit Quinn the last week Quinn had classes before her Christmas break, not only to see Quinn but also to help distract herself from the depressing holiday she knew that she would be having. Having broken things off with Brittany, with her papi slated to work through the holiday, and her abuela no longer part of her Christmases, Santana had a lonely and somewhat depressing Christmas to look forward to, and she knew that only going to Quinn, whose Christmases had always been strained for as long as Santana knew her in her rather unhappy family set up, could she feel somewhat comforted about her own.

She was surprised that Quinn had mentioned Brittany at all; they had carefully avoided the topic in the two days Santana had been staying with her, as Quinn didn't like to play the role of the comforter or handle others' emotion if she didn't have to, and as she was friends with both Santana and Brittany, it would have put her in an awkward position to have to do so. Not to mention that Santana herself hated to be vulnerable in front of her and always had; even now, with all their history and all the very difficult years they'd had together, her instinct was and probably always would be to compete with Quinn, to present herself as untouchable so the other girl could never shake her or take from her, never stab her in the heart if she had no information to do it with. For her to confide in her how much being apart from Brittany this season hurt would be unprecedented.

But they were both slightly drunk, nostalgic, and even now Quinn was nudging Santana's shin with her foot, initiating more physical contact through this than was usual for her, pushing at Santana's arms with her hands. And Santana found herself replying with a sigh, not bothering to keep the sadness out of her tone.

"Yeah, I think so. It would be nice, wouldn't it? To think you could have whatever you wanted, whatever you wished, if you just asked and believed enough?"

"Touche," Quinn said wryly, a slight smile tugging at her lips, before casting her eyes upward towards the ceiling, and it took Santana a few moments to realize that she was referring to God and her somewhat hypocritical and confused Christianity throughout high school. Processing this, she nudged Quinn back, pretending that she was fighting for space in the bed while really just wanting, though she didn't quite understand it, the brief physical contact with her.

"Quinn… you still believe in him?"

"Santa?" was Quinn's much too innocent reply, but she relented as Santana nudged her again, harder. "I guess I do. Not the same way, but…nothing's really ever gonna be the same way that it was, is it?"

They were quiet for a few moments, looking up towards the ceiling, aware of the other's closeness, their legs still touching slightly, before Quinn spoke again, her voice soft; she had not known what she would say until she said it.

"What would you wish for, if you could?"

It didn't take Santana long at all to reply; she seemed to have the answer all ready in her mind for that precise question, and she whispered it somewhat shakily, blinking.

"I would wish for my abuela to love me again. And Brittany. I'd wish for Brittany."

The girls were quiet again, the heaviness of this wish settling over them, and Quinn ignored the silent tears slipping down Santana's cheeks, the slight catch to her breathing. She didn't point out that those were two wishes, technically, and after a few moments she replied softly.

"I just want to be happy. I never have been, not for very long, and…I just want to be happy. And loved. I think we all want that."

Santana didn't reply to this verbally, but Quinn heard her exhale again, and after a few seconds the weight of Santana's head settled against her shoulder, her hand slipping into her own. Slowly Quinn let her head drop to touch Santana's, let her fingers lace through, and after a few more minutes, the heavy feeling in her chest began to lift.