Fifty Words for Forgiveness
*0*0*
Giving Thanks and Hugs
*0*0*
After Monday's developments with Quinn, you had such high hopes for Tuesday. Maybe she would initiate a smile. Maybe she would wish you good morning when you passed her in the hallway. Maybe she would actually talk to you. You had all these ideas and possibilities running through your head, causing you to be giddy with excitement and nerves. It had been built up to be such a huge day, you couldn't even put your keys in your ignition, your hand was shaking that much.
You shouldn't have been excited, though, because Tuesday was a complete dud. In fact, the rest of the week was pretty much a dud. You had gotten your hopes up for nothing. Quinn didn't even glance your way on Tuesday, and positively ignored you on Wednesday. Thursday was met with her hazel eyes seeking yours out in the hallway, but she looked away just as quickly. When Friday finally graced you with its presence, you'd given up and accepted your fate.
You were an idiot. You were a complete and utter idiot.
There you had done it again, building yourself up, only to be rejected again. It had happened before, and seemed to be a common occurrence with Quinn. You should have known better. Brittany should have taught you to not get your hopes up for anything. So really, you knew better than to get excited and think about all the ways you could interact with Quinn.
The ball was in her court. It would always be in her court, and until she wanted to talk to you, you were going to be in the outfield waiting. There was nothing you could do. You knew that. Again and again you reminded yourself of that fact, so you shouldn't have been so pleased with yourself on Monday afternoon.
Everything was a lost cause until she decided otherwise.
The only thing that gave you hope was Rachel and her commitment to her plan. She had seen Quinn's avoidance of you, and reaffirmed that her plan was working. How it possibly could be working was beyond you, but whatever. You weren't going to start doubting Rachel's psychic abilities when she believed your craziness. No way.
Trying to cheer you up, because you were being a miserable bastard, Rachel took it upon herself to try and repair your old friendships for you. It was sweet of her, but risky at best. You didn't want any more people knowing about your limited daily word problem, as it definitely made you sound crazy, but of course, Rachel had thought of that.
"I've invited Brittany to have lunch with us," she declared, causing you to miss your mouth and ram your sandwich into your chin. Growling under your breath, you wiped away the mess and turned to look at her nonchalant face.
"You what?"
Six.
"I've invited Brittany to have lunch with us. She should be arriving here soon." She was acting like the two of you were talking about the weather, not about inviting someone else into your little bubble. Your bubble was safe and secure and clear of all the craziness. Or rather, it was jam-packed with craziness and free from folk who would lock you in a padded cell. Why the hell was Rachel trying to burst your bubble?
"Why?" you croaked, looking at her like she was about to cause you bodily harm.
Seven.
"Because it's Brittany, and she misses you. You two were best friends-" she began.
"Among other things," you added, shaking your head. You really couldn't get past the idea of it being more than the two of you.
Ten.
"-and then all of a sudden the two of you weren't talking. She took it badly, and I know she misses you, and you do miss her. So, I thought it best to try and get you two talking again. Okay, don't look at me like that, I know you can't exactly talk, but Brittany understands that. She was the only one who understood why you couldn't sing or talk in Glee, and I think she's secretly psychic like myself. If not, she has some sort of gift."
Okay, so Rachel had a point. Brittany was the only one who seemed to understand that you were without your words, and she wasn't bothered by it in the least. Maybe she didn't truly understand what was going on exactly, but knowing Brittany, you knew she wouldn't need to. She wouldn't ask questions, she wouldn't pry, and she wouldn't be phased in the least if you did tell her. She actually was the best candidate to invite into the bubble.
"Anyway, she's joining us," Rachel continued. "She won't be with us every lunch, given Cheerios practice and all the extracurricular activities she's in, which I was completely unaware of, but she should join us at least twice a week. If that is okay with you, that is."
Having thought it over, you knew it wouldn't be a problem to have Brittany join them. It would actually be quite nice. You had missed the blonde, like Rachel had said. She was your closest friend until things went south. Then it was Quinn, and that wasn't even worth thinking about. Though, if you could be friends with Brittany again, maybe you could be friends with Quinn in due time, if nothing else worked.
"Of course," you confirmed, pleased with Rachel's initiative. She really was turning out to be the best thing that had happened to you since the whole Fifty Words began. Without her, God only knows what you would be like, or where you would be with Quinn.
Twelve.
"Oh, before I forget!" Rachel cried, bending down to root about in her bag. "I bought you these," she sang, smiling brightly as she handed you a neat little pile of laminated cards. You frowned, because on the back of each card was some kind of farm animal, and these were most definitely used for a small child.
"Thanks?" you muttered, inspecting them. Turning over the garishly coloured card, you saw the number one glaring back at you, and your frown deepened.
Thirteen.
"They're to help keep track of your words," Rachel explained, seeing your confusion. "I know you can keep track of your words easy; your voiceover does that for you, but I have no way of knowing how many you have left. It is such a waste of paper making you write it out all the time, so I bought these cards to help."
Mildly impressed with her thinking, you grabbed a piece of paper from your bag and scribbled her a question. You wanted to save your words for Brittany, at least giving you a chance to talk to her properly. If Brittany did know of your plight, like Rachel said, then she would expect you to be quiet, but you could make some effort.
Going back to the cards, you inspected them closely. Pigs, cows, sheep, chickens, ducks, dogs, and cats, all adorned the back of them. Some were red and blue, others green and yellow, and orange and purple, and each and every animal had a cheery smile on its face.
A small, tiny, miniscule, part of you wanted to gag at the joyful cards before you, but then you glanced over to the girl next to you, who had gone to all that trouble to help you, and a small smile graced your lips. The cards were like Rachel, loud, garish at times, straight to the point, and cheerful. Gripping them a little tighter, you knew because of her you were going to treasure these stupid little things so much more.
"Where an earth did you get these?" Rachel asked, reading aloud your note and breaking your train of thought. Grinning, she went into a deep explanation of her weekend in Columbus with her fathers and how they were shopping for a baby cousin of hers. It was kind of her, to think of you while out with her family, and you found yourself giving her one of your genuine smiles, mask dropped to the floor.
"What? What is it? Why are you looking at me like that?" she questioned, stopping abruptly. "Did I do something wrong?"
"No, you…you just…" You stopped, unable to finish your sentence and softly sighed.
Seventeen.
She'd taken you by surprise. She was constantly surprising you. You didn't know what to do about that, what to think about her, and just continued to grin at her like an idiot. She bit her bottom lip, fighting a losing battle against the smile breaking free, and opened her mouth to speak.
"Hey, guys!" Brittany called, bouncing into the auditorium excitedly, cutting Rachel off completely. The smiles fell off both your faces and the two of you went back to your lunches while Brittany bounded up the row towards you.
"Hey Britt-Britt," you replied, looking up at her as she took a seat.
Nineteen.
If it was even possibly, her smile widened and she gave you one of her happiest looks, making your chest ache. You had missed her happiness, so fucking much. Quinn may have smelt like sunshine, but Brittany was the goddamn sun, emitting rays of happiness and warmth.
"Hi Brittany," Rachel greeted; once again back to her chirper self.
Sitting down, Brittany pulled out a box of cookies and started tucking in. You smiled to yourself, not surprised in the least by her lunch choice. She always used to tell you that she needed something a little sweet to push her through the day, and it was good to know that hadn't changed.
Rachel, unfamiliar with Brittany's dietary choices, struck up conversation about her cookies, and was then treated to a fifteen minute discussion about how sugar was magical and kept people smiling. Rachel, god bless her, listened with rapture and took every word Brittany said like it was gospel. It wasn't until Brittany mentioned that with twenty five minutes left of lunch, she needed to eat at least four more cookies in order to reach her peak levels of concentration for her afternoon classes that Rachel interrupted her.
"Oh gosh, is that the time? I have to go," she said, shoving her rubbish into her bag. "I promised Mr. Schue that if I was going to harass him with Regional song choices and dance choreography then I needed to do it outside classroom hours. Apparently, it is not acceptable to switch his PowerPoint presentation with my own and take over his Spanish class. I honestly thought it was the best use of time given that nobody learns anything anyway. Which also reminds me, Santana, is there any chance you could help me with Spanish? I don't mean to-"
"Yeah, of course," you interrupted before she went into cheating and stereotypes.
Twenty two.
"Great! Well, like I said, I must dash. See you two later!" With that, Rachel practically sprinted out the auditorium, leaving the two of you alone.
You wanted to speak, to let Brittany know that you were interested in getting your friendship back, but she beat you to it. Briefly, you wondered if Rachel was right, maybe Brittany did have some kind of gift.
"I'm really happy that we could do this again. Lunch isn't the same when you're not there. Quinn, she's always sad now, and I know she misses you like I do. You need to patch things up with her. We may have not worked out, but you and Quinn could work out, if you try hard enough." You knew she wasn't reprimanding you, but it felt like that.
"I'll try, B. I'll try."
Twenty seven.
"Good, because I want to have a sleepover soon and I can't have you and Quinn fighting while you're there. That tension does not promote a healthy living environment." Reaching over, she squeezed your hand and smiled. "You two don't make sense to me, but as long as you make sense to each other, that's all that matters. I want you to be happy."
"Thanks, B," you whispered, squeezing her hand back. Taking a deep breath, you tried to take hold of your emotions, and rapidly blinked away the tears threatening to spill over. Brittany's support meant a lot to you, more than you realised it seemed.
Twenty nine.
Noticing your change in emotions, Brittany changed the subject and began updating you on all Lord Tubbington's crazy adventures back from when the two of you were not talking. He was back in rehab, having been found with ecstasy tablets stashed in the old kitty litter tray, apparently. Brittany was concerned, but thought given the right program he might get back on the right tracks.
The whole conversation brought a smile to your lips, and a nostalgic feeling washed over you. You could still remember the first time you met Lord Tubbington, a kitten then, and the first time Brittany told you he was on drugs. It had all sounded crazy to you, but then again, back then you hadn't suffered from a word limit each day, nor were you best friends with a possible psychic. Perhaps what Brittany was saying was true. Maybe Lord Tubbington really was on drugs, and had been this whole time.
"So he gets out of rehab next Friday. I've already swept the house for any drugs he may have left behind, but I'm worried about him falling in with his old crowd again. The black and white cat, who lives three doors down, I call him Scarface. He's the ring leader. If Lord Tubbington falls back in line with him, then rehab will have been for nothing. Do you think you could talk to him? Maybe get him to see the error of his ways?" She was looking at you with so much hope that you did the only thing you could; you nodded and agreed to talk to Lord Tubbington next Friday.
"Aww thank you, San! I know Lord T looks up to you. Your words mean a lot to him," Brittany exclaimed. "And hey, maybe we could have that sleepover then, too! It could be a welcome home party for him!" You didn't know what to say to that, but nodded anyway. "I'll invite Rachel, and Tina, and the other Glee girls, and we can have a huge slumber party for him," she continued, rambling on.
All you could think about was the chance of being around Quinn for that long. Brittany's sleepovers were notorious for lasting the whole weekend. Quinn and you, at Brittany's, together for the whole weekend. Silently you thanked the gods for making Brittany want to invite the others, especially Rachel. You'd need her. For that weekend, you'd need her constant support.
Tuning back in, you noticed Brittany checking her watch and frowning. "We should probably go, classes start soon, and Coach said that if I had any plans of leaving this Podunk town, I should go to them," she announced, chewing on her bottom lip.
Nodding, you grabbed your things together and began to get up. Taking the empty cookie box in hand, Brittany rose to her feet, as well, and stretched. The two of you meandered out of the row leisurely and headed up towards the auditorium doors.
Brittany was a few steps behind you when you felt a tug on your sleeve, causing you to stop. Glancing over your shoulder, you noticed her pensive look and turned fully. She was anxious, worrying about whatever it was she was going to say.
"I was hoping you would maybe come over tonight, and watch a movie like old times," she mumbled. "We always used to watch movies on Friday nights, and I've missed it. So do you…I mean, would you like to come over later?" Her eyes sought you out, and you saw the fear ridden in them. She was actually scared that you would reject her, which was completely ridiculous.
"I'd love to," you replied, nodding happily. Of course you weren't going to turn her offer down. It was Brittany for goodness sake; it just wasn't possible to turn her down.
Thirty two.
Hugging you tightly, Brittany squealed in your ear and gave you another one of her ecstatic smiles. Jumping on the spot, she pulled back from the hug and bid you a quick goodbye before darting off to class. You were left grinning, body abuzz with anticipation. You honestly couldn't wait to head over to hers later. It would just be like old times, and that's exactly what you needed.
The sound of someone clearing their throat had you looking towards the doors. Your eyes fell straight onto Rachel, who was smiling back at you. She must have snuck back in as Brittany was leaving.
"That went well, then?" she asked, heading towards you. Her eyes were shining bright with glee at everything that had transpired. She had every right to look like that, she had done so fucking much for you. She had made all of this possible.
"You're a genius," you declared, closing the distance between the two of you and wrapping your arms around her. You practically tackled the girl into a hug, catching her off guard. Her body was rigid and tense at first, but gradually she began to relax, her arms coming round to hug you back.
Thirty five.
"Thank you," you whispered, holding her tighter. You couldn't even begin to express your thanks for everything she had done for you.
Thirty seven.
"You're welcome," she whispered back, letting you hold her as long as you liked.
The bell ringing told you that you were going to be late to class, but neither of you moved. With one final squeeze, you untangled yourself from her and took a step back. She was watching you carefully, taking in how much distance you were putting between the two of you, and then took a step back herself.
"Shall we go?" she asked, her gaze having softened.
Nodding, you hiked your bag over your shoulder and the two of you left the auditorium together. Rachel gave you a quick wave goodbye and then went off to her first class, leaving you to go to your locker and fetch your books.
Despite knowing you were going to be late, you strolled through the near empty corridors like you had all the time in the world. A weight had just been lifted off your shoulders, making you feel lighter and more relaxed. Finally, finally, things were really beginning to look up.
You had friends.
You had friends who understood and who cared about you.
That, that thought alone, was the best you'd had all week.
Yes, Monday was great, and Quinn smiling at you was amazing, but you couldn't count on her. Rachel was your rock, you could always count on her now, and Brittany, she was taking you back to the good old days without all the venom and the lies that used to be present. They were with you through this, not looking at you like you were crazy, and believing you despite it testing the realms of possibility.
Glancing round the now deserted corridor, you looked upwards towards the ceiling and closed your eyes. In your mind, you imagined the creepy voiceover watching and waiting for you to say something just so it could announce what number you were on. If that was the case, it was watching and listening to you now.
"Thank you," you whispered softly, hoping it really was listening and watching, and hoping it knew exactly what you were thanking it for.
Without Fifty Words, you would never have made friends with Rachel, and you would never have repaired your relationship with Brittany. The old Santana would have been too proud to talk to Brittany, to acknowledge her own faults and apologise for hurting her. She never would have admitted she missed Brittany, and she never would have tried to fix it. She would have seen Artie and given up.
The old Santana also would never in a million years have been nice to Rachel. She wouldn't have dreamed of apologising, and she wouldn't have confided anything in the girl. No, instead, she would have ridiculed and tortured her until graduation, ensuring she left McKinley miserable.
It was Quinn that pushed you to apologise to both of them, and it was Fifty Words that had you even listening to her demands. You wanted Quinn to forgive you, so you asked for forgiveness from those you had hurt, and the only reason you wanted Quinn to forgive you was because you had hurt her with Fifty Words.
Fifty Words had screwed you with your pants on, but it also seemed to be fixing everything, and turning you into a much better person. It was good and bad at the same time, but the good far outweighed the bad. It had put you through hell, but was finally letting you into heaven.
It was your penance, and rather than hate the curse you'd been struck with, you were thankful for the gift you'd been given.
Without Fifty Words, you would be alone, angry, miserable, and on a one-way path of self-destruction. How could you not thank those that were putting you through this?
Closing your locker door, you waited for the familiar sound of the voiceover telling you that you only had thirty nine words left. With each step closer to your class, your frown grew, and you were left completely confused.
"Sorry I'm late," you announced, barging into the classroom. You were testing a theory, and you needed to see if it was going to work.
Ignoring the teacher's scowling glare as you took you seat, you pulled out your notes and attempted to catch up, but really weren't paying attention. You were waiting. You were waiting for it to kick in, to tell you how many words you had used. It should be telling you that you had used forty three words; forty three.
Forty.
Dropping your pen, you sunk back into your chair and took a deep breath. Your voice over had just given you two words for free. It had just given you free words. It hadn't count those words. What the hell did that mean? Was that an accident? Was that on purpose?
The teacher barking at you to pay attention had you picking up your pen again, but for the life of you, you couldn't concentrate.
Fifty Words was actually going to be Fifty Two Words today.
Why?
Were you finally learning your lesson?
*0*0*
That night, before you went to Brittany's, you sent Rachel a text, telling her what had happened earlier on. She was ecstatic, her giddiness infectious through the screen, convinced that this was the greatest thing since sliced bread. You weren't sure it was that great, but it certainly was a step in the right direction.
With that thought in mind, you headed over to Brittany's that night with a bright smile adorning your face, and your eyes alight with excitement. In typical Brittany fashion, she matched your excitement without even needing to know why, and quickly kicked off the evening with some classic Disney movies.
It really was just like old times.
Or rather, it would have been if she hadn't stopped watching the movie halfway through and asked the one question you didn't think she'd ask.
"How many words do you have left today?" she questioned, blue eyes trained on you.
Spluttering, you didn't know what to say or do. You certainly hadn't told Brittany about Fifty Words but yet she seemed to just know. Rachel was right, Brittany had some kind of gift, for sure. Reaching for your bag, you pulled out the cards Rachel had bought you and help up the number forty for her to read.
"What are they? They're awesome!" she exclaimed, not interested in the least with what number was on the front. You were pretty sure she had seen the grinning pig on the card below and became distracted.
"Gift from Rachel," you replied, watching as she took the number forty one card and grinned back at the pig.
Forty three.
"Rachel always gives the best gifts," she added, taking the rest of the pack from your hand to look at the other animals. "Last year, she bought me an all-day pass to the petting zoo. It was like heaven. My own personal heaven. Best day ever."
You frowned, completely unaware of the day Brittany was talking about. Granted, you weren't exactly in her life at that point, as it was after things had blown up between the two of you, but still. Surely you would have known if Rachel Berry had bought her a gift.
"When was that?" you asked, curious.
Forty six.
"Christmas, silly. You know, the holiday where we give out gifts? When else would it be?" Brittany's eyes lit up like aforementioned Christmas trees as she spotted the duck cards and started separating them out from the others.
Turning back to the movie, you waited for Brittany to grow bored of the cards and finish her original train of thought. It would happen eventually, you were sure of it. Thankfully, it didn't take that long, and by the time you were on the second movie, your cards abandoned on the coffee table, Brittany nudged your arm to get your attention again.
"Fifty words really isn't a lot of words, and I don't want you to waste them on me, so we should make up some sort of system where we can talk without actually talking. You need to use your words on Quinn. I know she'd love to hear them."
Again, she seemed to know everything, even the exact number of words you were limited to. A part of you wanted to ask how she knew, but thought it best not to. She would probably give you an answer you wouldn't understand.
Grabbing your phone from your bag, you sent her a text and she was quick to catch on, pulling her own from her pocket.
I think we can do that!
It only took a few seconds for your phone to vibrate in reply.
Sheer genius, San! Sheer genius!
Even though Brittany could talk, she seemed to like the idea of texting you her reply, and you were happy to go along with it. She was helping you, allowing you to save your words, which really meant a lot to you. Now you knew that you wouldn't hurt her feelings if you didn't talk to her, and could text her even when she was sitting next to you and it not be construed as rude.
Eighty seven texts and two movies later, you were getting ready to head home. Brittany was already sleepy, and you knew you had to get home sooner rather than later. You didn't want to drive while tired. No way were you going to make all this progress and then throw it away by dying behind the damn wheel because you fell asleep.
"Sweet dreams for when you go, San," Brittany mumbled into your shoulder, hugging you at the door.
"Sweet dreams, Britt," you yawned, rubbing circles in her back as she practically fell asleep in your arms. Chuckling under your breath, you pulled away and made sure she was stable on her feet before stepping back, out of reach.
Forty nine.
"Night." Waving your goodbye, you stepped off the porch and went towards your car.
Fifty.
As you walked, you hunted out your keys and got ready to unlock your doors when you Brittany stopped you.
"Wait!" she called, taking you by surprise. Without knowing what was going on, you watched as she was walked across her front lawn towards you. Stopping about a foot in front of you, Brittany tucked her hair behind her ear and licked her lips.
"You used your last words on me," she whispered, looking overwhelmed at the thought. Nodding nervously, you stood in confusion. You hadn't meant to upset her. If she wanted you to use her system that badly, you would, but you thought she would like getting your last words.
Apparently she did, or so you concluded when she launched herself at you again. "I loved the old San, but I love the new Santana so much more. Thank you," she added, continuing to whisper. "Night."
Wiping away a stray tear that had escaped, you waved her goodbye again and finally unlocked your doors. As you pulled out her driveway, you watched her retreating form head in the house, and swallowed the lump in your throat.
Things couldn't have gone better if you tried.
It was almost perfect, if not for one part. One part you weren't going to dwell on right then. Instead, you were letting the acceptance wash over you and lull you into a calm you had never had the honour of feeling before. She was back, Brittany was back in your life, and this time you weren't going to lose her.
No matter what happened, no matter how things progressed, you were not going to lose Rachel or Brittany. They were everything to you, now. They were the people who accepted you without a second thought, and they were the one standing by your side when you needed them most.
Even if you had to give up all your words to keep them in your life, you would. They were your friends, and like they looked out for you, you were going to look out for them; no matter what.
*0*0*