Fifty Words for Forgiveness
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Progress
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Quinn's bright idea that you should apologise to those you had hurt in the past, while in theory was good, hadn't actually changed anything. You knew the Glee club weren't going to take your words to heart initially, but after weeks passing and no verbal assault from you, you figured they'd maybe have warmed up to you. They hadn't. You were alone.
You watched them all travel in packs, their little friendship cliques, and even when you gave them a small smile that didn't look like a grimace in any which way, they still ignored you. It hurt, more than you thought it would. Obsessing over it, though, wasn't going to do you any favours. So, like usual, you pretended that it didn't hurt, that they didn't bother you, and you tried to get along like everything was normal.
Normal in the sense that you still only had fifty words per days and your creepy voiceover didn't look to be leaving you anytime soon. Such bliss.
Having apologised to everyone, two weeks ago, you technically had the right to go back to Quinn and speak to her. She had the right to blow you off, which you knew she would, but at least the option was there. Surely, she had heard of your efforts to make things right with them. They all gossiped like mad, one of them must have mentioned it. Sadly, there was no way of you knowing, and you really didn't want to have to go out of your way to get her to notice you.
That would just be pathetic, and you were anything but pathetic. Kind of.
Knowing that the cafeteria at lunchtime was just no place for you anymore, you took to hiding out elsewhere for lunch. Anywhere but the cafeteria was a safe haven, away from the prying eyes of the student body. You could still hear the whispers and the chatter as you walked down the hallways, and you knew they were all waiting for the other shoe to drop. It had been several months since your creepy voiceover pitched up, and they were still all wondering about the change in you.
What had changed? Why had she stopped attacking us? Has she had a mental breakdown? Could she have had a personality transplant? Was this some elaborate prank? Who was she trying to hurt with this scheme? She couldn't actually be turning nice, could she? Who was she? Where the hell had Santana Lopez gone?
They all wondered. You knew they all wanted to know. However, it was pretty obvious that this was one secret you were not going to put out there. The last secret they had on you got you a one way ticket to family abandonment and prejudice, this one would have you wearing a straitjacket and thrown in a padded room.
Maybe telling Quinn wasn't such a bright idea. After all, she was known to have stabbed people in the back, you included. If she didn't think this was some joke, maybe she would have you locked up in a mental asylum. That thought had you frowning, because while you liked to believe it wasn't true, you knew there was a possibility of her telling everyone, and then things would suddenly get very difficult for you.
Sighing, you pulled your bag closer and worked your way through the school, towards the auditorium. No one was around, thankfully, and no one saw you go in. The last thing you needed was some repulsive little sophomore who thought he had the cojones to belittle you for eating lunch by yourself. That had happened one time, and why you had moved from eating in the Spanish classroom.
The lights were off when you entered, except for the ones on the stage, and you wondered if you had just missed someone in there practicing. Hopefully, they were done, as you really didn't want anyone seeing you there. Eating lunch by yourself only became extra pathetic when someone was there to witness it.
Picking a row, you slipped along the seats and headed for the middle. It was far enough in that if anyone came in, you could slyly slip out without them seeing you. Either that, or hide on the floor until they'd left, but you really hoped it wouldn't come to that.
Arriving at a decent set of seats, you turned to push the chair down and noticed a pair of eyes staring back at you in the row behind. Gulping, you squinted, your eyes having not adjusted enough to take in who it really was. Coming into focus, though, you realised it was Berry, rather than some psychopath. She could be excused for hiding in there. Anyone else would have got a very angry slew of Spanish curses thrown their way for almost scaring you like that.
"Oh, sorry," you muttered, frowning. You had hoped you would be alone, but apparently that was not going to be the case.
Two.
Then again, how could you ever be alone with that creepy voice around?
Turning to leave, you heaved your bag over your shoulder and chewed on your bottom lip. You'd wasted enough time making your way to the auditorium, and now finding an empty classroom was going to be difficult. Plus, she had seen you, which was damage enough.
"No, wait, you don't have to go," Berry called as you took a step backwards up the aisle. "You came here to eat lunch?" She was eying the bag you had in your hand, and you noticed she had a similar one open on her lap.
"Yeah." You didn't want to admit to her that you had planned on eating in there alone, but she didn't seem to be judging you. She actually looked curious as to your plans, rather than like she was going to maliciously tease you for them.
Three.
"I don't know, do you maybe want to join me?" she asked, dropping her eyes to her lap. Her sandwich had a bite out of it, and you could see a little pot of fruit next to it. All of this was placed on a napkin, covering her skirt.
She looked a little pitiful, all by herself, and seeing her like that hit a nerve. That's how you looked when you had lunch by yourself; pitiful. Good lord, you couldn't stand the thought of that.
"On the floor?" the words slipping out before you had a chance to censor them, and you saw Berry's face flinch from the harsh tone of your words.
Six.
"Well, no, we could actually sit in some chairs. I was just down here because…it doesn't matter. You probably don't care and don't want to eat with me. I can leave. Stay, have the auditorium. I'll go eat in the choir room."
Before you could respond, Berry had begun packing her things. She quickly wrapped her sandwich, took the bag and fruit pot and shuffled to her knees. You couldn't grasp why she would do this for you. It was you who had chased her into the auditorium all those years ago, and it became her safe zone. Now she was offering it up to you like it was nothing. You knew it wasn't, though. She was safe in there from slushies and verbal attacks. Outside those auditorium doors, she would have to fend for herself.
She knew that you would have to fend for yourself outside those doors, too, which was why she was getting up to leave.
"Miss Pillsbury and Mr Shue are in there," you said, shaking your head at her. You had seen them making eyes at one another on your way back from your locker. It was sickening.
Fourteen.
"Oh. Not a problem, then. I'll find somewhere else." Berry was on her feet, tucking her hair behind her ear as she made to leave. You climbed over the row of chairs and caught her sleeve, tugging her back to you. She looked a little scared, glancing at your hand and then back up to your eyes, at which point you let her wrist go.
"Auditorium is big enough for two," you said, shrugging.
Twenty.
With that, you sat your ass down on the floor where she had been sitting and waited for her to do the same. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see a small smile on her lips, and for some reason that made you feel rather good about yourself.
Silently, the two of you started getting your lunches out and began to eat. You figured she would have opened her mouth after the first few minutes, but surprisingly she didn't. Maybe she didn't want you to kick her out if she spoke, or maybe she just didn't want to ruin whatever this was.
Yeah, the two of you had made amends, sort of, and there had been mentions of friendship, but you never thought it would happen. You had assumed it would be one of those friendships where you didn't bite her head off, and in return she'd leave you alone. You never thought it would come to this, eating lunch together. But, as you chewed on your lunch slowly, you realised you really didn't want to eat by yourself anymore. You had been doing that since Quinn and you fell out, when the lunchroom was no longer a safe zone for you. That had been weeks ago.
There Berry was, as lonely as you, and a perfectly willing candidate to each lunch with. You could do that. You could eat lunch with her every day. It's not like anyone would know, and even if they did, what would it matter? You had lost so much because of this stupid fifty words thing, your rep, your friends, Quinn. Eating lunch with Berry would be nothing. Hell, it might even be good for you.
Not wanting to seem too eager at the thought, you wondered if you could just casually throw that suggestion out there. Unless you padded it with actual conversation, though, you were going to look desperate and you didn't want that. Taking one more bite out of your lunch, you shrugged your shoulder and took the plunge.
"So…why you hiding out in here?" It wasn't the best opening line you've ever had, but it was good enough to start a conversation.
Twenty seven.
"Why are you hiding out in here?" Berry shot back, raising her eyebrows at you in question.
There were so many excuses you could have given her, but right then, the truth seemed like the best bet. It wasn't like she wouldn't know if you lied, everyone knew about your current predicament. Given that Brittany and Quinn would be in the cafeteria having lunch, your absence was pretty obvious.
"Got nowhere else to go," you said, shrugging your shoulder. God, it sounded pathetic when you said it like that.
Thirty two.
"And what makes you think that's any different for me?"
Smiling humourlessly, you nodded in understanding. Of course it would be the same for her. Rachel had no one, just like you. Expect, the reason she had no one was partly your fault. If you hadn't made her such a social pariah in freshman year, maybe she would have someone.
"I'm sorry," you whispered, suddenly not so hungry.
Thirty four.
"Santana, you've already apologised. I forgive you. You didn't do this to me. I mean, you didn't help me any but I know that I am a lot to take. I'm loud, obnoxious, blunt, selfish-"
"You're forgiving," you said, interrupting her before she started tearing herself down even more. You couldn't sit and listen to her do that. You'd done it enough for her over the years, and the guilt was eating away at you for it. "And talented, and you..."
Forty.
Christ, you couldn't do this. You couldn't sit there and do this with her. She wasn't meant to get these words. Quinn was meant to get them. Quinn was supposed to be the one eating lunch with you, not Rachel Berry.
Taking a deep breath, you bit back the sudden urge to run. Running would do no good. You'd only run towards Quinn, and she really didn't need that. She was still ignoring you, so unless you were planning to tell her exactly what she wanted to hear, you didn't stand a chance. You needed to remain exactly where you were and not do anything rash.
As if sensing what you were about to do, Berry put her hand out and touched yours. You didn't flinch away, like you would have done three months ago, and you didn't feel the need to spit venom at her either.
"Please stay. You're the only company I've had in…well, quite a while actually. If you stay, I'll be quiet. I promise. I'll keep my mouth shut, and you won't have to listen to me jabber on anymore. Just stay, please," she begged, looking at you with so much desperation you couldn't leave even if you wanted to.
She needed you so she could feel slightly less alone, which was exactly what you needed her for. Leaving would do neither of you any good.
"Why the floor?" you asked, not wanting Berry to think she couldn't speak. It wasn't her words that had caused you to freak out. That was all your own doing.
Forty three.
Looking at you carefully, you watched as she gauged your expression. Obviously, she thought this was some kind of test. Her doubt in you was enough to provoke a small smile, and you raised your eyebrows in question, hoping she'd finally answer. The two of you were clearly going to have to work on trust.
"I was hiding from some of the hockey players. They followed me in here, started searching the room. It was safer just to stay down here once they'd left," she answered, shrugging much like you had moments before.
"Assholes," you muttered, shaking your head.
Forty four.
"My thoughts exactly."
Descending into silence again, the two of you finished off your lunches and were content to just sit there. You both knew that the second you stepped outside those auditorium doors, things would change. In there, you had peace and quiet, but outside, you had to fight to stay above water.
The bell signalled the end of your time together, and wordlessly you both packed up your things, and rose to your feet. Without giving each other a second glance, you headed towards the doors but both paused before opening them. You needed just one more second of calm. Berry did, too, by the looks of things.
Your fingers grasped the handle of the door and you went to pull it open but stopped, surprising Berry as you did so. Her game face was back on, as was yours, but you needed to just ask her one more thing.
"So I'll see you again tomorrow?" You didn't need to add anything else, she knew exactly what you meant. The warm smile that she gave you told you enough, but you waited to hear her response anyway.
Fifty.
"Yes, I'll see you tomorrow. Thank you, Santana." Content with that, you opened the door and headed back out into the hallway. The two of you parted ways as if nothing had happened, heading off in different directions.
And just like that, you had used all fifty words on Rachel Berry.
Stranger still, you were glad you had.
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Your auditorium lunches with Berry ended up becoming routine for the two of you. Every lunch hour, you'd wander your way towards the auditorium, and settle down in the twenty ninth row. After about three days of sitting on the floor between the chairs the two of you finally decided it was acceptable to sit in them instead. You figured you could both hide before being spotted if anyone ever did come in.
Just like the first day, you tried to open a little further up to Berry. She was the only one willing to listen to you, and you the only one willing to listen to her. It worked. Whatever it was between you, it worked. She filled a gap, slowly earning your friendship, and you were thankful for her.
With more lunches came more trust, and eventually Berry began to ask the real questions. She had stopped the two of you from falling into any awkward silences in the past, but you knew she was only making weak conversation. She never asked what she really wanted to, and it was only a matter of time before she did.
One of those such instances was on a Glee day, and you knew it was only a matter of time before she asked you. She had been speaking about different numbers and routines for everyone to learn, when she stopped midsentence and turned to you. You didn't quite know what to expect at first.
"Why did you quit Glee?" she asked, suddenly. Her brow furrowed and she licked her lips slowly. "I thought you enjoyed it, and you were being given more parts, so it wasn't as though you were just swaying in the background. Yes, you weren't getting solos, but given the makeup of the group, I assumed you knew that you wouldn't get many and were okay with that. Is that why you quit? Did you want to be front and centre more?" Berry looked far too confused about this matter than you knew what to do with. None of your answers would be the one she was looking for.
"What does it matter?"
Twenty three.
"We miss you." You scoffed at that and shook your head. If Berry was going to lie, then maybe these lunches weren't going to work out after all. "Okay, fine," she conceded, shrugging. "I miss you. The group needs you. Without you, arguments last ten times longer, and no one has such an affective glare. You kept everyone in line, including me, and New Directions just doesn't work quite the same."
"I'm sure you'll survive without me." They had to, because you weren't going back. You couldn't. Signing was impossible.
Twenty nine.
"Why, though? Why did you quit?" Berry's inability to sense when she was poking a sleeping animal with a stick was not going to bode well for her, you decided, hoping she'd just let it drop. You knew you had to give her some kind of answer, but you didn't want to lie outright to her. Lying was a waste.
"I can't sing anymore," you replied, sucking in a deep breath and dropping your head back on the chair. Looking up at the ceiling, you held back the wave of emotions trying to break out, and settled yourself. You couldn't do anything about it, so there was no point getting upset. Until your words came back, you'd just have to accept the fact you couldn't be in Glee.
Thirty three.
"Oh. Well, I'm sorry to hear that." Whether Berry knew not to press you for anymore answers, or she genuinely thought you couldn't sing, you didn't know, but were very glad for this. Anymore, and you would have lost it, stormed out, said something you'd regret, and push her away. You couldn't afford to do that.
Unfortunately, that wasn't the last of Berry's incessant questions that hit too close to home. On a particularly rough day, where Quinn had practically looked right through you, Berry seemed to sense something was up. She had been watching you carefully throughout lunch, and just when you thought you could make a break for it, she asked.
"How did it start? With Quinn, I mean." She twirled a piece of fruit on her fork and awaited your reply.
You didn't need to ask how she knew, because it was obvious something was up between you and Quinn. Everyone could see it, you were just relieved many of them hadn't noticed the parallels between Quinn and you, and Brittany and you. It was like a mirror image, the way both those situations were playing out.
The rest of the student body was putting it down to a fight in the Unholy Trinity, and you were happy they had drawn that conclusion. Despite being out, you didn't want to broadcast your relationships to the whole school. That shit needed to be kept private, especially since there was no relationship to speak of. Rather, it was a complicated mess that needed sorted out, and you hoped Quinn would come around eventually and let you do just that.
"It was just sex," you replied, knowing Berry would never buy the 'argument between friends' bullshit you had sold everyone else.
Sixteen
"There is no such thing as 'just sex' between friends."
"Tell me about it," you muttered, earning a smile from Rachel.
Twenty.
She was watching you carefully, much like prey would look at predator to estimate their chances of survival when cornered. It had been a month since the two of you had started having lunches together, and even then, she was still a little wary of you.
"You miss her." It wasn't a question as she was already sure of it.
You nodded in reply anyway and sunk a little deeper into the auditorium chairs, sighing as you did so. God, yes, you missed her. You missed the soft smiles, the little jokes, the secret looks, the lustful gazes, the teasing touches, the feel of her skin beneath your fingertips. You missed it all.
"Santana, maybe I'm pushing the boundaries of this new and delicate friendship, but I am curious. You can tell me to go to hell after I ask, obviously, and I expect that you will, but I feel the need to ask anyway."
"What is it?" You couldn't help but be a little worried by Rachel's preamble. Things had been going well between the two of you, or so you thought. You didn't want her to suddenly say something that would ruin that.
Twenty three.
"Do you love her? I mean, do you really love her? The kind of love that is self-sacrificing and selfless. Is it that kind of love?" She paused for thought. You knew she wasn't done from the way she pursed her lips together in hesitation. "Is the love you have for Quinn different than the love you had for Brittany?" Biting her lip quickly, you watched her plough on ahead and knew this was the big question. "If Quinn asked you to stop, to let her go, leave her alone, would you do it? Could you do it?"
Her final question hung on the impression that your love for Quinn was selfless. Could you do that? Were you even capable of doing that? Giving up on Quinn, letting her go, was that possible for you? You'd never want to make her uncomfortable with your presence, so yes, maybe you could distance yourself from her, but truly let her go? How could you do that? The only reason to do that would be if she didn't want you. If she didn't want you then, you'd have no option but to stop.
"I didn't mean to freak you out, Santana, I'm so very sorry. Please, if you're going to hit me, avoid my nose. Anywhere else, but just not the nose. It's my most important feature, besides my voice, of course."
"Stop talking," you whispered, but you could have yelled it for the way it shut Rachel up so fast. She waited, worrying at her bottom lip, as you processed everything she'd just made you face.
Twenty five.
Was your love for Quinn selfless? Was her happiness more important than yours? Would you still love her even if she didn't love you back? That's effectively what Rachel was asking you, and it was something you'd never even thought of before. If Quinn loved another, instead of you, could you still love her?
This was where your history worked in your favour, because you technically still loved Brittany. Yes, it wasn't the same. You loved her platonically, with a little scribble at the end for possible sex that may or may not take place in the future, but romantically was a no. You had loved her, more than you'd loved anyone before. Yet being with Quinn was on a whole new level, ten times what you felt for Brittany.
If you couldn't be with her, that didn't stop you from loving her. She deserved to be happy, and if it wasn't with you then with whoever could and would make her happy. God, just the thought of her with someone else was like being stabbed in the chest, white hot pain shooting up your spine, but she deserved to be happy. You loved her, every part of her, even the side that could and was pushing you away, because that side protected her from all the other assholes out there. You had just hoped you were a special kind of asshole that didn't qualify for that treatment.
"Is she happy?"
Twenty eight.
"I…" Rachel seemed completely flummoxed by your question, stumbling over her words to find the right answers. "I honestly, Santana, I don't know. Quinn's best and worst feature is the mask she uses to cover her true feelings. I don't think anyone but Quinn would know if she was happy or not."
You hoped she was happy. You needed her to be happy. You had just hoped that she would have been happy with you. God, were you fooling yourself? Was this all a waste? She didn't want your words, she didn't want you. She had gone out of her way to ignore you, so maybe you needed to move the fuck on.
"I love her, she doesn't know it, but I love her. Brittany's my friend, that's it. Quinn's…she's so much more than that." Shaking your head, you tried to get a grip of yourself.
Fifty.
Berry was watching you with sad eyes, and you actually welcomed the hug she gave you. It was comforting, a gesture you had long missed. She was there for you, even if Quinn and Brittany weren't, Rachel was.
That lunch changed things between the two of you. There was a better understanding afterwards. Rachel stopped pushing questions, and you were willing to share more and more with her without her having to ask. It was nice, and you came to the conclusion that you finally had a friend, one you weren't going to screw and fall in love with. That part was very refreshing.
You also changed your stance on things with Quinn. While you wanted to run and beg her for forgiveness, you knew that was useless. She was clearly still angry at you, and that was pretty gutting, but you saw her smiling with Brittany and laughing with Mercedes and you knew she was still the fun, loving Quinn you had fallen so hard for. She was still in there, beneath that cold and solemn mask you always saw, you just needed more time.
There would be no apologises, no pleading looks, no sad eyes, and no wishful thinking. You needed to protect yourself. You were still hoping to tell her everything, but you needed her to come around, to accept that you did only have fifty words to play with. If she didn't buy that, then there was no hope.
Confident you had stopped your pathetic pining, you started making the most of the situation you were in. So yes, Quinn wouldn't talk to you, but you had Rachel. That was enough to put a small smile on your face each morning, and not even the dirty looks for your peers was enough to wipe it off.
You stopped caring what McKinley thought of you, and it wasn't long before you and Rachel were seen in the halls together. She was your friend, and unlike what you had done to Quinn, you needed her to know that she was. It couldn't just be in private, because then it looked like you were ashamed of her, and you weren't. Everyone could think what they wanted to, you were going to do what you wanted regardless.
So talking to Rachel at her locker, eating lunch with her in the auditorium, and saying goodbye to her at her car suddenly became the norm. The shit you took for it was like water off a duck's back. You were completely unfazed. You still had enough words to make things right, and being friends with someone as kind and forgiving as Rachel certainly deserved your time and effort.
She was the only one who was there for you when you needed it, and you were not going to forget that. Your friendship with her, while unusual to most, worked very well for the two of you. She needed someone to see through her bullshit, which you did, and you needed someone to break past your walls. It relied on trust to work, and you knew that it was only a matter of time before that trust was truly tested.
That time came sooner that you thought it would.
"You don't talk much anymore," Rachel said, offhandedly.
As good an actress as Rachel was, she really needed to learn the art of subtlety and lying, because you knew she was just as curious as everyone else. You were actually surprised that she'd waited this long to ask. Before then, you would have brushed her off, but this was perfect timing.
You trusted her with a lot of things, the details of you and Quinn, the regrets and the tears, but this was one thing that could make or break your friendship. Rachel was certainly crazy enough to handle it. The girl thought she was a little bit psychic, she was definitely crazy enough to handle it. Plus, she'd probably believe you, having seen first-hand of the calmer, more laid back Santana Lopez.
That was definitely enough reason for you to trust her with this.
"Monday," you replied, knowing you didn't have enough words to explain it all. You wanted to, and actually wished you could just do it then, but Monday would do.
Forty seven.
"Okay." Chewing on her apple, she swallowed and nodded at her lap. "Monday."
Thankful that she had learnt to drop topics when you didn't want to talk about them, you went back to your lunch. Monday was going to be a big day, and you'd need to think carefully about what you said, or rather how you said it. Maybe another note would be affective.
Finishing up your lunch, you let your mind wander through the many ways it could be done, and started gathering your things. Rachel's reaction was the wild card, but given her antics, maybe she wouldn't doubt you for a second. That would make a nice change.
You walked out the auditorium with her, dumping your trash in the bin outside the doors and gave her a slight wave of your fingers. It was enough of a goodbye as any, and Rachel grinned back at you as she turned to leave.
The bell rang and you hiked your bag over your shoulder a little more, looking back round at the rest of the hallway and got ready to head back to your locker. Your stomach was suddenly awash with nerves, and perhaps it hadn't been such a good idea to agree on Monday. Maybe you'd have to lie to her.
Biting your lip, you turned to go, but the eyes of one person stopped you, and held you back from making another move.
Hazel eyes, warm, rich, hazel eyes were staring back at you. You must have looked like a fish out of water, opening your mouth slightly before closing it again. It was as if you wanted to say something, but there was no point. Quinn was standing a least ten feet away, leaning against Sam's locker where some of the other glee club members were chatting.
She almost looked as confused as you, unsure what to do with this newfound eye contact. You hadn't looked her straight in the eye in over a month. You hadn't dared look her way in case she broke your damn heart.
That stupid fucking thing.
A heart was one of the most powerful organs in the body, pumping blood to keep you alive, and yet it was so fucking delicate when it came to emotions. Whose stupid idea was that?
Quinn's lips quirked up at the edges, and if you tried hard enough, you could go as far to say it was a smile. As soon as she saw the recognition cross your face, she looked away, and dove right back into the conversation she had been a part of.
Your feet moved you of their own volition, taking you back to your locker. Shoulders bumped and knocked you to the side, eyes glared and watched you with bemusement, voices bitched and sighed as you meandered past, but none of that mattered. None of that mattered at all.
Nothing mattered anymore. Monday was going to be a piece of cake. Telling Rachel would be easy. Nothing mattered at all, not one damn thing, and why? Because Quinn fucking Fabray had just smiled at you. She smiled at you!
Over two months of being ignored, a month before that full of tense looks and heated arguments, and just when you thought she'd given up on you, she smiled!
Holy fuck, that was good news!
That sign, that sign you desperately needed had just been given to you, and there was no denying it. She had smiled at you. She had acknowledged your presence and smiled. Things were back on. Things were very much back on. All you needed was more time. More time for that tiny little smile to become a full-fledged one, and then she'd give you the chance you really needed.
Dropping back against your locker, you tried to contain yourself but you were abuzz with excitement. She was back. Fun, warm, loving Quinn was back, and she had smiled at you.
Now you couldn't wait until Monday.