*0*0*
Fifty Words for Forgiveness
*0*0*
Moving Forward
*0*0*
You didn't think you could feel worse than in that moment. Rachel had driven you back to your house after the sleepover, and you were wrapped up in your bed, hiding from the world. Your heart was breaking, and you were powerless to stop the tears from falling.
It wasn't fair. The whole situation was completely unfair. You were getting a reality check, but it was still complete nonsense. Love just wasn't enough, and knowing that in some situations, your love for someone wouldn't be enough to help them, to support them, to make them feel safe, was tearing you apart.
You wanted to protect Quinn. You wanted to hold her hand when she was scared, hug her when she needed to feel safe, kiss her when she needed comfort, and stand beside her through the storm. You could look after her, make sure no one made any comments about her sexuality at school, and you could take the brunt of the backlash for her. You just wanted to love her, completely, and have the rest of the world leave the two of you alone.
But you weren't enough, your love, your support, your safety wasn't enough for her, and that thought hurt you more than you ever thought it would. You weren't enough for the girl you loved, and if you couldn't be with her through this, then it didn't look like you'd ever be with her.
You didn't want to give in, to let your fears override your common sense and throw in the towel, but the two of you needed to band together if you were ever going to make it. The situation had been cleared up, you both knew where the other stood, so why couldn't adjustments be made so you were standing next to each other, rather than apart?
This was your last year in Lima, because both of you had been applying to universities across the country, and none of your choices matched. A long distance relationship could work, if both parties were on the same page, but Quinn and you weren't even in the same book. Plus, it wasn't like she was going to just jump out the closet once high school was over. She would need her parents to pay her tuition fees, she would need a home to come back to during the holidays, and there was nothing you could do to help either of those situations.
The reality of the situation was that Quinn might never come out, and you were the idiot who fell hopelessly in love with her.
By the time school had come around the next day, you got into Rachel's car looking very morose when she came to pick you up. On Sunday, she said that she'd take you to school , and you think she only offered because she didn't want you skipping and lying in bed all day. That's exactly what you would have done if you'd had the option, but she was being kind enough to make sure you kept your grades up for when you needed to get the hell out of Lima. No college was going to accept a student with shitty grades.
Attempting to give her a smile, though you were sure it looked more like a grimace, you buckled yourself in and rode in silence. She obviously knew her words of wisdom weren't going to do much for you today, and probably thought it best to leave you to your thoughts.
Only after parking, getting out and heading into school, did you grab her arm and stop her in place. Rachel turned to you confused, no doubt wondering why you suddenly wanted her attention now, and waited to hear what you had to say.
"Thanks for the lift." You gave her another smile, one that actually felt like a smile, and she returned it.
Four.
"You're welcome." Giving you a nod, she made to leave and told you she'd see you later for lunch.
You watched her walk away and then perused the rest of the hallway. It wasn't ridiculously crowded, as it was still quite early, but there were enough students meandering around to bump into you every now and then as you stood in their way.
Sighing, you fought back the anger at them, these random people, who probably hadn't done anything wrong, but it was because of them, their families, their town, your town, Quinn was left hiding in the closet. They had made your life awkward and difficult with their judging eyes, and their hushed talk and whispers. If they weren't so judging and were more accepting, Quinn would never have a problem being out like you.
You knew better than to dwell on the situation, and really, getting angry at your fellow peers wasn't going to do you any good. If anything, it was going to make you stressed, pissed off, and you'd likely explode and waste your words on those fools. No, it was better to swallow that bitter pill and bury your resentment and anger away for another day, a day when you could scream Spanish obscenities at them without a word limit.
Leaning against your locker, staring into space, you felt the presence of someone come and stand next to you. At first, you thought it was Rachel, but you could see her out the corner of your eye talking to other members of the Glee Club, so that ruled her out. Then, your heart did a jump in your chest, and your stomach flipped at the thought it could be Quinn, but she had no reason to come and talk to you.
Putting yourself out your misery, you turned to see who had arrived and were met with the beaming smile of Brittany. She looked immaculate as always in her Cheerios uniform, and despite your glower in her direction, her happiness went unfazed.
"Coach wants to see you," she said, her eyes sparkling away.
"What?" you asked, frowning in confusion. There had to be a mistake. Coach never wanted to see you again.
Five.
"She wants to talk to you." You continued to frown, and your feet refused to move despite Brittany giving your sleeve a tug towards her office. "Don't question it, San, just go," she said with a laugh, and you finally found yourself moving with her.
Depositing you at the door, Brittany gave you a reassuring smile before knocking on it for you. Of course she knew you'd probably not do it yourself, and instead make a break for it; the girl could just read you so well. Thankfully for Brittany, she had enough time to dash away and get out of sight before the door opened.
"Sandbags, take a seat," Sue barked from behind her desk as Becky slipped past you.
Doing as you were told, given you really had no idea why you were in there but you were sure Brittany wouldn't have led you like a lamb to slaughter, you took a seat in front of Coach Sylvester's desk and awaited whatever news she was going to tell you.
"It turns out, according to my psychic, that you can be around my Cheerios, and in fact, your particular showmanship is necessary for us to win nationals. There's a judge with a Latino fetish on the board. Therefore, welcome back to the team. Your uniform is hanging by the door, and I expect you to change into it the second you leave this office. I don't want to see those foul clothes you're wearing ever again."
Flabbergasted by her words, you sunk back in the chair in shock. What the hell was going on? Had she seriously just told you that you were back on the Cheerios? What had changed her mind? What did her psychic have to do with anything?
"Why now?" you asked, frowning.
Seven.
"The powers above are done with you. I don't know who you pissed off up there, but I hope you've learnt your lesson. Personally, I don't know how you managed to survive with a daily word limit, but it seems you made it out alive. That in itself is impressive, and definitely a trait the Cheerios require. Withstanding daily psychological torture is an important aspect to cheerleading."
"Wait, you knew?!"
Ten.
You were sure you hadn't told anyone who would have told Coach. No way. None of them would have ratted you out like that. Though, a niggling feeling at the back of your mind thought of Quinn, but if she had told Coach about you hearing voices, you would have been locked up in a mental asylum, rather than having just been kicked off the Cheerios. So how did she know?
"You're not the only one who can hear that ridiculous voice every time you speak. If it was going to continue much longer, I was going to sew your mouth shut."
"But how?"
Twelve.
"The Sylvesters' have always had special powers, I don't question it and neither should you. Clearly this punishment was only temporary, could you imagine if it was permanent? So think carefully, Sandbags, before you go wasting your words again. Now, your uniform." Pointing to the pristine Cheerios uniform hanging by the door, you rose from your seat and picked it up.
It felt so strange to have it back in your hands again, almost as if you were finally getting things back on track, returning to your old self.
"Thank you…I think," you mumbled, heading towards the door. It felt safer to get the hell out of there before Coach could say anything else.
Sixteen.
Coming out of Coach's office, you watched as the short and sprite body of Rachel darted up the hallway towards you. She looked concerned, and once she saw the uniform in your hand, she stopped dead in her tracks. It took her a moment of staring at you for her to finally come to her senses before actually coming over.
"What was up with Coach? Are you okay?" Her eyes refused to meet yours, and instead were looking at the uniform.
"I'm back on the team," you replied, still confused as to how that had happened. But then again, when Coach had kicked you off the team, it hadn't made much sense, so of course this was going to be the same.
Twenty one.
"Oh." Rachel licked her lips and swallowed anxiously, keeping her eyes glued to the floor. You knew she wanted to say more, was thinking too much, but it was obvious she wasn't going to be upfront about it.
"Yeah. She knew about Fifty Words. She could hear it."
Thirty one.
"Wow. That's something I'm definitely going to have to share with my great aunt Aggie. She always had a theory about the Sylvester Clan but could never be sure. This just confirms it…what is it?"
"Q."
Thirty two.
Across the hall, her eyes fixed on yours, Quinn stood motionless as students moved passed her to get to their lockers. She blinked, once, twice, before frowning at the uniform in your hand. You watched her look of confusion turn into one of recognition, and then a small smile appeared on her lips. Small, tiny, miniscule, almost unrecognisable to the untrained eye.
Sadness suddenly flickered across her face when she looked up from the uniform to the girl standing next to you. You felt Rachel tense, and you knew she was watching this scene unfold, too. Quinn tucked her hair behind her ear and stood up straighter, and you could practically see her armour and mask fall into place, before she made eye contact with you.
There were so many emotions warring behind her eyes, and you knew she was thinking the same thing about you. She flinched, and then glanced away as you fought every cell in your body from moving towards her. Licking your lips, you held steady and watched her look at Rachel with so much disdain and hurt that you almost faltered, your foot moving to close the distance.
Quinn saw it, saw you, and shook her head, turned away and disappeared into the crowd of students that now lined the hallways. You sighed, and you watched as Rachel flinched at the sound. It wasn't her fault, that was not her fault, so she shouldn't have been blaming herself. She hadn't done anything wrong.
"I'm going to…" You waved the uniform to show her what you meant, and she looked at you quickly before dropping her eyes and nodding. Satisfied with her response, you gave her a smile and then sought out the closest bathroom.
Thirty five.
You had missed cheerleading, and especially the time it allowed you to spend with Quinn and Brittany. So, despite the peculiar way you were kicked off and brought back on the team, you weren't going to test your luck by not putting the uniform on right away. Knowing Coach, and after that new revelation about her hearing your voiceover, it felt safer not to push the boundaries. God only knows what she could do in retaliation.
Changing in the bathroom stall, you folded up the clothes you had been wearing previously and placed them on the sink counter. Pulling your hair up into the customary ponytail, you looked yourself over in the mirror and had to do a double take.
It was almost as if nothing had changed.
You knew better, of course, but the changes had been good. Getting this uniform back was another good change. Before, you used your power as a cheerleader to victimise and bully, but those days were over. Yes, you still looked fierce, a factor you loved, but there was no rule saying you had to be a bitch once the uniform was back on.
However, the rest of the school didn't seem to get that memo, because the second you stepped out that bathroom, everyone stopped. You licked your lips and took a deep breath, waiting for someone to cry in outrage at this new development, but that didn't look to be happening.
Instead, the jocks who had previously been dicks to you gave you smirks and smiles, showing their appreciation at having you back; the ones at the bottom of the social ladder winced and suddenly became very close with their lockers; and the middle ground, the ones who flew under the radar, looked on curiously.
In that moment, it was as if you had awoken the girl who had vanished along with her words. Adrenaline suddenly started thundering round your body, your heart thumping loudly in your ears, and a smirk took over your lips. This was a test, they were watching to see who you were going to be, if you were going to be the girl they remembered or the girl you had been these last few months, and you couldn't afford to fail.
Holding your head up higher, you strutted down the hallway like you used to, and took satisfaction with each gawking face.
That's right, McKinley, Santana Lopez was back and you'd better watch your backs.
Good lord, this felt fantastic.
*0*0*
Entering the auditorium at lunchtime, you looked round for Rachel but couldn't see her. She was nowhere in sight. Frowning, you took a seat in the middle row, thinking she'd just be a little bit late, and waited. You didn't want to start eating without her, and she never started eating without you when you were running late, so it was only courteous of you to return the favour.
Unfortunately, after fifteen minutes had passed and no sign of her, you had to start eating. You couldn't afford to be late to your classes, and you didn't want to have to rush your food down in order to make it on time.
Where the hell was she, though? She hadn't said anything about a Glee Club meeting, or any other club meeting for that matter. In fact, that morning she had told you she'd meet you here for lunch. Pulling out your phone, you sent her a text asking if everything was okay and was she coming to eat with you. It took only a minute or so later for you to get a reply.
I'm sorry, I got held up with Spanish. My essays aren't good enough, and I'm being made to work on them with Schue. I should have let you know, sorry, San. X
Accepting her reply with a sigh, you wondered if there was any way you could help her out with Spanish without it being cheating. You honestly didn't know why Schue was giving her such a hard time. You'd read her essays, and they were considerably better since she'd started working with you than before. Whatever, you'd just have to pay more attention when you went over her work in the future.
Rather than get up and head to join the other Cheerios in the cafeteria, you stayed put and ate your food in silence. It actually gave you time to sort out some of your thoughts and clear your head for the Cheerio practice taking place that afternoon. God only knows where about you'd be in the pyramid, no doubt back at the bottom, but you'd be working directly with Quinn and if that was happening you needed to have a game plan.
You didn't want to inadvertently hurt her, and you were pretty sure that was possible. Things were so delicate, and Christ, that wasn't your fault, nor hers, but someone needed to think practically if both of you were going to make it through this with your hearts still intact. Pft, as if that was possible.
Running over every scenario in your head, you knew you needed a buffer, and Brittany was the best possible one. Plus, you wanted to thank her for whatever it was she did that morning to get you back on the team. Sending her a text, you were pleasantly surprised to hear she was on her way to see you anyway. Smiling, you knew you could always count on Brittany.
That girl was gold.
*0*0*
Cheerios' practice that afternoon was not as bad as you thought it would be. Mainly, because Brittany was awesome, and she allowed you and Quinn to dance around each other like nothing had happened, and protect you both from the wounded looks that would flash across your faces every so often.
What you were once worried about became easy, and by the Cheerio practice on Thursday afternoon, a system had been worked out. Rather than Quinn speaking to you directly, she'd tell Brittany what needed to be done, and the message would be passed on. If Coach noticed, she didn't say anything and just let all of you get on with it.
So, while your friendship with Brittany was blooming, and you were spending a lot more time with her thanks to the Cheerios, you noticed another friendship was lacking. At first, you didn't think much of it, but as the days passed, it became more and more obvious that something wasn't right.
You had spent every lunch since Monday with Brittany and the Cheerios in the cafeteria. It hadn't been your first choice, but Rachel was constantly busy and fobbing you off with excuses left, right and centre. It hurt a little, but you tried not to show it.
Brittany, being the genius that she is, saw that you were hurt by Rachel's absence and practically ordered you to talk to her. She didn't see the problem, nor how it couldn't be resolved by the two of you just having a conversation. You wanted to point out that your words were precious, but you didn't. That would have been a dickish move on your part, because Rachel was worth spending those words on, especially if it meant fixing whatever had gone wrong those last few days.
Given that she was hiding from you, though, it wasn't easy to have that conversation. It took Brittany begging Rachel in Glee to meet her in the auditorium at lunch for an opportunity to finally arise. Rachel had practically become a ghost those last few days, missing in the hallway, texting you to say she couldn't take you to school that week anymore, avoiding you in classes, skipping lunch with you, and just generally leaving you feeling alone.
This wasn't like her. She wouldn't do that to you without some sort of reason, and you needed to find out what it was. Therefore, you sat in the back row of the auditorium, well out of sight from the door, and waited for Rachel to arrive. Brittany was sitting on the stage, kicking her legs back and forth, and willing to go along with the plan long enough for you to come out of hiding.
Several minutes past before the door opened and in strode Rachel, a forlorn look on her face as she walked down the aisle to Brittany. You rose silently behind her and started your own walk towards the stage.
"Okay, Brittany, what was it you needed to go over? You're our best dancer, so I really can't understand how you can be struggling with these new moves. You were the one to choreograph it. If you can't do the moves, why would you put them in? Regardless, I'll help as best I can but I really think you should ask Mike if you want help. I'm not that great a dancer."
"Actually, I don't need help, and you're a good dancer so don't worry about that."
"If you don't need help, then what am I doing here?"
"You two need to talk."
"You two?" Turning round, Rachel finally saw you and her mouth opened as if she was going to say something, before dropping her head in defeat.
"Have fun, guys!" Brittany called, jumping off the stage and running up the aisle to give you two peace.
With the sound of the door closing behind her, Rachel licked her lips nervously and looked around the room, no doubt waiting for you to make the first move. You went to run a hand through you hair, and then realised you couldn't due to the ponytail, so dropped it back down. Rachel watched your movements, and bit her lip as she took in the uniform again.
"Why are you ignoring me?" you asked quietly. She was never going to acknowledge the elephant in the room so someone had to.
Seven.
Rachel looked away, ashamed, her hands fidgeting in front of her as she shook her head. You knew before she opened her mouth she was going to lie to you. You had been expecting it, in fact.
"I'm not," she replied, still not looking at you.
"Rach, please don't lie to me." You were begging her, and she crumbled. She looked at you sadly, and took a shaky breath, wiping down her skirt as she did so.
Thirteen.
"You're right, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have lied to you." Tucking her hair behind her ear, you watched her drop her bag to the floor and take a seat in the front row. Joining her, you raised your eyebrows in question and prodded for her to continue.
"So…?"
Fourteen.
"It's just, I know you and Quinn aren't together now, but she still loves you, and I didn't want to hurt her by hanging out with you all the time. I know she thinks we're more than friends, and that has to be putting a strain on the tentative friendship between you two, so maybe it's best if I let you be for a while. I don't want to mess things up, complicate things, or get in the way. Being friends with you does all of that."
"So you don't want to be friends anymore?"
Twenty two.
"No, that's not what I'm saying at all! I do, gosh, Santana, I really do. I just don't want to complicate this for you. I don't want to get in the way, or make Quinn think there is anything going on. We're friends, and I want it to stay that way, but you love her and I'm making things difficult-"
"You're not," you said interrupting her. "You're not complicating things at all. Quinn won't talk to me, and we're giving each other distance, so you couldn't complicate things if you tried."
Forty nine.
"I'm sorry, I won't ignore you like that again. It's just, she looks so hurt every time we're together."
"Well, that's her problem. She needs to understand we're just friends," you replied, anger bubbling up within you. You couldn't afford to have Quinn ruining your friendship with Rachel just because she felt insecure. She couldn't have her cake and eat it too, it didn't work like that.
Sixty.
Sitting up straighter, you looked up at the ceiling, God only knows why because you obviously weren't going to see anything, and frowned in confusion. Sixty. You had said sixty words today, and your voiceover hadn't stopped you ten words ago.
"Is everything alright, Santana?" Rachel asked, also staring up at the ceiling in interest.
"My words," you whispered, surprised you could still speak.
Sixty two.
"What about them?"
"I'm above the limit."
Sixty six.
"Seriously?!" Nodding in reply you sat back, shocked. What was going on?
Not that it wasn't great, but it was seriously unnerving having the ability to speak freely knowing you might lose it at any moment.
"This is fascinating!" Rachel cried, reaching into her bag and taking out her phone. You watched curiously as she sent a text to her great aunt, informing her of this development. "She might be able to shed some light on the situation," she began to explain. "If anyone knows anything about what's happening to you, it would be her. I told her of your plight back when it first happened, which I hope you don't mind me doing so, but she might be able to help. As I previously mentioned, she was the one who helped nurture my psychic abilities."
Chuckling to yourself at her enthusiasm, and having missed these kind of interactions, you waved off her fears and listened to her rattle on. It was good, and it felt like things were back to normal. Hopefully, once you both left the auditorium, things would continue on this path rather than Rachel retreating from you once again.
Looking over at her, though, you knew she wouldn't hurt you like that again. She had obviously seen the distress you were in, and there was no way she'd want to jeopardize your friendship. It was good to have her back, and thankfully this was only a minor bump in the road.
*0*0*
You were starting to realise that your words were coming back in drips and drabs. Some days, some fortunate days, you could say as many as eighty words, but on other days, you were stuck back at fifty. It made no sense and there really was no rhyme or reason to the madness, but you had to endure it anyway.
Today was one of those days were you just felt rubbish. Nothing bad was really happening, but you were missing a certain blonde. As hard as you tried, you couldn't block her out. She somehow ended up in your thoughts and, like your words, there was nothing you could do to rectify the situation.
You kept seeing her, in classes, in the hallway, at Cheerios practice, and it was a constant reminder of the friendship ruined between the two of you, and a relationship left smouldering in the hope it would put itself out. That wasn't happening. Your feelings for her weren't dying, and in some occasions, they're grow stronger.
You'd notice the coy little smile she gets in class, and you'd see her satisfied smirk when the baby Cheerios actually listened to her at practice. You memorised those gorgeous hazel eyes whenever they came out to play, and died a little inside when they were directed at you. It was torture, emotional torture seeing her like so, especially when you were so used to those hazel eyes lightening up at you in the safety of your bedroom, you lips on her skin and her presence in your heart.
In light of your mood, Brittany suggested that you come over and hang out with her. You couldn't think of a valid reason why you shouldn't, and you knew if you just turned her down she'd come over to yours, so you went. Things with Rachel were back on track, but she was at home with her Spanish tutor or Britt would have invited her too, you were sure.
Apparently, her fathers had found out about her poor grade and thought it best to hire her some help. You were sure they only did that just so she didn't spend more time with you, as the men still didn't like you all that much, but whatever.
Curling up on the couch, blanket draped over your legs, you watched as Brittany fluttered around the room to set everything up. The two of you were returning to your old tradition of movie night on a Friday, but without the sex. She had insisted this, especially after finding out you were just going to brood at home.
With that knowledge, Britt was doing her best to cheer you up. So far, she had picked your favourite Disney movie, Lilo & Stitch, and had made you hot chocolate and cookies. You knew this to be one of her cures for a broken heart, and you shot her a thankful smile at all the effort she was going to.
With the movie on, and the menu about to load, Brittany climbed back over to snuggle in next to you. You offered her some of the blanket you were using, and the two of you cozied up like you used to. It was nice, and the comfort eased the pain of Quinn's absence.
Only now, sitting there with Brittany, did you realise what she had gone through with you. The pain, the aching, the tears, Brittany had endured all of that for you when you wouldn't come out. Except, back then, she didn't have anyone to comfort her, to make her feel better, to cuddle with and give her a smile that said everything would get better. God, you were a monster to her.
"I'm sorry," you whispered, pulling her attention from the screen to you. "I'm so, so sorry for making you hide who you were in love with."
Twenty.
Brittany looked at you a bit bewildered before her eyes softened and she found your hand under the covers. Giving it a soft squeeze, she leant over and kissed your temple, holding you closer.
"It's okay, San. You were scared. I understand," she replied, calming you somewhat with her soothing tone. You still felt awful, and your thoughts were abuzz, needing to get out.
"You should hate me for putting you through that, though. I made you hide, I ignored you and I hurt you. You should hate me." Why didn't she? Why had Brittany been so willing to forgive you for that? Yeah, she moved on to Artie, but still, why had she become friends with you again?
Forty five.
"Do you hate Quinn?" Brittany asked, pulling you from your questions.
"No. God no." Please, as if you could ever hate Quinn. You loved the girl. You could never hate her, not at all.
Forty eight.
Brittany smiled at you like you just proved her point, and you chuckled under your breath. Yeah, you had definitely just proved her point.
"Quinn is scared, too. You should remember that. You just have to give her some time and be willing to wait on her. She'll come around. And plus, just because she won't be with you, doesn't mean you can't be friends."
"She won't want to see me," you said, shaking your head. Quinn seemed pretty happy staying away from you, so there was no way she'd want to suddenly strike up a friendship again.
Sixty four.
"That's not true. She misses you, she always has. You need to be there for her. She's hurting, she loves you and she hates herself for how scared she is. Surely you know what's that like." Nodding, you frowned, understanding exactly what Quinn was going through.
It didn't matter how much you loved Brittany back then, you couldn't come out. It was too scary, too much, and you stood to lose too many people. You weren't ready, and you needed longer. Quinn was going through the exact same thing. She definitely stood to lose a lot, her social status, her church, her family, her home.
So yes, she probably needed friends to help her, to support her, because that's what you had needed. If you hadn't been so scared of everyone treating you like shit, maybe you could have finally plucked up the courage to come out yourself. Obviously, you'll never know for sure, but if you had enough friends to make you feel safe, to make you feel accepted, that might have made the process easier.
In no way whatsoever were you trying to influence Quinn into coming out, though. She needed to do that on her own, in her own time. You just wanted to be there to support her. Hell, that's why you wanted to be with her if she ever did come out, so surely you could do the same as her friend.
As if Britt knew you were done with that conversation, she hit play on the movie and snuggled closer. You smiled at her softly, thankful for her insight and decided to tackle the friend situation with Quinn later. For now, you were going to let the awesomeness of Lilo & Stitch wash over you and enjoy your evening as best you could.
*0*0*
On Monday, you made the decision you had been pondering about since Friday night with Brittany. You wanted Quinn in your life, and not just as the girl you were so in love with it hurt but the one you couldn't be with. No, she needed to be more than that.
Therefore, after Monday's cheer practice, once everyone had left the locker room, you decided to make your move. As Captain, Quinn always was the last one to leave, so you were sure you could talk to her then. You had thought about doing it during the day, but there were too many possibilities of being interrupted, and you honestly just wanted a proper chance to talk to the girl.
It had been so long since the two of you had talked, or at least it felt that way.
Brittany's eyes had been sparkling when she had left, mouthing you good luck as she did so, and you shot her a thankful smile. How she knew what you were going to do was beyond you, but you knew better than to question it.
So seeing as it was just Quinn and you left, you closed your locker door and went in search of her. She was sorting through permission slips in the office attached to the locker room, and you stood in the doorway watching her. If she knew you were there, she wasn't letting on, so you cleared your throat to get her attention.
"Hi," you said, trying to sound confident, but it coming out more as a whisper.
Eighteen.
"Hi," she replied, dropping the papers on the desk and turning to you in wonder. She clearly wasn't expecting you to talk to her. That had been the rule, especially at Cheerios. So, you had to be breaking that rule for a specific reason.
"Friends…I want to be friends," you whispered, feeling the ache in your chest worsen with each breath. That wasn't how you had wanted to come out and say it, but your brain was malfunctioning with her so close.
Twenty three.
"Friends?" she questioned, her brow marring as a frown took over.
"Yeah. I want you in my life, and I miss you. So friends." God, this was hardly eloquent at all, and if you didn't give you some kind of indication as to what she was thinking you were going to go crazy. What had ever made you think this was such a good idea?
Thirty six.
"Only friends, though, right? Because, Santana, I can't keep-" Quinn began to explain, crossing her arms over her chest.
You knew her fears, you knew her worries because they had been yours, too. Could you only be friends with her? Could you resist that temptation? Yes, yes, if it meant she could be in your life again, properly.
"Only friends. Nothing will happen. I won't do anything to jeopardise your secret." She seemed to think over your words as she bit her bottom lip in concentration. God, she looked fantastic. "Look, Q, if you don't want me in your life at all just say so I can be put out my misery."
Seventy one.
Right then, you felt like an animal that needed to be put down from too much suffering. She had the ability to heal you or destroy you. You needed to know which one it would be. You couldn't hold out for an answer because that would breed hope, and hope was such a dangerous thing to have when it concerned the one you loved.
"You make coming out seem worth it, and that terrifies me," Quinn admitted, her mask gone and her hazel eyes shining at you brightly. You had missed them, like always. Her confession hadn't fallen on deaf ears, though, and you feared that because of this you would never be a part of her life.
"So we can't even be friends?" you asked, needing to know, desperate to know.
Seventy seven.
"I'm not sure. Can we?" Quinn was looking at you, taking you in, and you hoped whatever she was seeing was giving her the answer you wanted to hear. If only she could understand how serious you were about making this work.
"I'll behave, I promise." You could behave, even if it killed you.
Eighty one.
"It's not that I don't trust you, Santana. It's that I don't trust myself." Oh you knew how that was, because on a good day, you could barely trust yourself not to kiss her senseless. She needed you to keep your distance, though, to keep her secret hidden, so you did. You never trusted yourself with her, but the fact that she did made your heart soar.
"Can't we at least try?" you begged, not wanting to give up yet. "Just one chance, that's all I'm asking. Please."
Ninety four.
Quinn licked her lips as she thought it over, and you were sure she was going to say no. She was the one that stood to lose everything with this friendship. You really couldn't lose much more as you had already gone months without her in your life. So, when she opened her mouth to give you her answer, you steeled yourself for the worst.
"Okay, we can try," she whispered, her eyes looking up at the ceiling as if she couldn't believe what she'd just done. You waited a moment for her to take it back, and watched carefully to see any signs of her changing her mind but it never came.
Instead, Quinn chuckled under her breath and advanced towards you. She stopped a few feet from you, leaving enough space to be considered socially acceptable for friends and nothing more, and then gave you a shy little smile.
"I've missed you, too, by the way. I still do. My Friday nights just aren't the same." God, hearing that made you want to whine aloud. She could not be doing that, saying things like that, if this was to work.
Thankfully, her expression changed and you knew she wouldn't be making any more confessions like the ones she already had. Her mask was slowly going back up, and you bade farewell to your favourite hazel eyes.
"Wait, your words?" she asked, looking at you in confusion. Clearly, she had been paying attention, and that thought had your heart doing backflips in your chest. Stupid thing.
"They're coming back." You smiled softly and bit your lip, shrugging. Hopefully, she wasn't going to ask you much about it, because you really had no clue why they were. You weren't questioning it, though, because without them coming back, you'd never have been able to have this conversation with her. They were helping you move forward.
Ninety seven.
"That's great!" She shot you a genuine smile and nodded, pleased for you. And she looked it, she looked sincere about it. That, that right there was what you'd been missing, what you wanted.
"Yeah, it is," you replied, nodding back at her.
One hundred.
She may have meant your words, and you sort of did, too, but really, you meant the bigger picture. You two were trying to be friends, you were trying to be a part of each other's lives without the compilations. Your words could do what they wanted, they normally did, that was something you couldn't change, but that right there with Quinn, you had changed that, you had moved things forward.
Whether it was going to lead you to more heartache in the future, you didn't know, but all you could think with her smiling at you like that was that it would be worth it. She always was worth it, hence why you always found yourself in these types of situations, risking so much for her.
At least now, you were in her life, rather than staring at it from afar, wistfully.
*0*0*