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Fifty Words for Forgiveness
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Saviour
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The Friday night you spent with Rachel was just as easy as every other night you'd spent with the girl. The two of you didn't do anything special, but finally had a chance to just hang out, alone, and have all the conversations Fifty Words had prevented the two of you from having.
It included everything from her relationship with Finnept to yours with Brittany, her plans to get her fathers to like you, to your parents and siblings, and by the end of it all, you actually had learnt a great deal more about her than you ever thought you would.
The old Santana Lopez would have used all of this information to destroy the girl lying next to you, but you wouldn't even dream of doing that to her, and it was as if Rachel herself knew that. She had trusted you with a lot of things that were clearly personal to her, and you replied in kind, making this friendship more secure than anything. But still, the fact that the two of you were able to do that had you smiling bemusedly.
Fifty Words really had changed things up for good, and thinking of such had you remembering the words Brittany had said earlier that week. You still had no idea what that was about, but you were determined to find out.
That's how you found yourself hanging back with Brittany during lunch on Monday. Rachel had needed to go prepare for Glee later on, and you waved her off with a smile. She suspected something was up, but didn't ask for details, and left Brittany and you alone.
Brittany was happily eating the remainder of her orange, oblivious to the eye contact going on between Rachel and you, but then again, maybe she was fully aware and just letting the two of you have your silent conversation. Maybe the reason she was taking so long to eat her orange was so you didn't need an excuse to keep her around longer than necessary.
"You can ask now," Brittany declared, spinning in her chair to look at you with a grin once Rachel had left. Of course, she knew everything, so she knew you wanted to talk to her. She probably was just eating slow for you. Ugh, and you couldn't even be mad about her seeing through you completely.
"Thanks," you said dryly, rolling your eyes at how well she knew you before clearing your throat. "What did you mean that day in the auditorium when you said you wanted to know if you'd made a mistake?"
Those words had rung round your head for days on end. You just couldn't forget them. They needed explaining. And from the looks of it, Brittany knew that, too. She took a breath and shrugged.
"Exactly what it sounds like," she answered, but it wasn't enough for you. There had to be more to it than that.
"Why?" you wondered. Why did she want to know if she'd made a mistake? And how, how, had she made a mistake if one had been made?
"You needed to move on," Brittany began. "You needed to forgive yourself, and be forgiven for the things you had done. You needed to grow. God, Santana, it's not easy knowing how something will play out before it happens. Except with me, I don't have the luxury like Rachel where they come sporadically. I just know. Always. And with you, I knew that if something drastic didn't happen, you were going to fly off the deep end, and no one would be able to get you back."
"So you what, cursed me?" That what it was beginning to sound like, though you weren't sure that's what she meant.
She needed to do something drastic, and Fifty Words certainly had been that. But fly off the deep end, what did that mean? What were you going to do? And you didn't think things had been that bad. Okay, you were lonely and bitter at the world and everyone in it but fuck, you'd had your heart broken, you were falling in love with a girl you shouldn't have been, and you had no one to talk to about it all. How else were you to feel? Did all that really mean that something drastic had to be done?
"Was it a curse? And do you really think I would curse you?" Brittany asked, a look of hurt flashing across her face. "I asked for some help, for you to see the damage your words and behaviour was doing, and this is what they chose for you."
"They?"
Who the fuck were they?
Without thinking, you looked up at the ceiling and glanced around. You knew you weren't going to see anyone, but fuck, there was apparently a they now, and that meant they had to be watching to know what was going on. Talk about fucking creepy.
"I don't know who they are, if that's what you're asking. I just asked for help for you, and I got it." Brittany shrugged and bit her lip in an almost apologetic manner. She had nothing more to say on the matter, and it was going to have to do. She didn't know, which said a lot given she'd just confessed to knowing practically everything.
"Do you think you made a mistake?" you asked, now biting your lip anxiously.
If Brittany knew what lay ahead, just knew, she would be able to tell if her actions had influenced you in a bad way. She clearly thought you needed help otherwise she wouldn't have intervened, which was scary to think about. This deep end you apparently were going to go off in seemed worse each second you thought about it. So, if Brittany thought she'd made a mistake, your future, the one that had changed due to Fifty Words, was not as good as the one you were destined to have before it.
You guessed that you just needed to know if Fifty Words had definitely improved things for you, over all. It was hard to deal with now, but if it was worth it in the long run, then who were you to complain?
"No, I don't think I did. But do you think I made one?" Brittany asked in return.
Thinking it over, taking everything into consideration, you shook your head. There's no way she could have made a mistake, not when you had her friendship, Rachel's friendship, and Quinn's friendship to think about. Plus, you were finally happier. Last week you may have been dubious about it, but from what she'd just said, it was clear no mistake had been made.
"No." That brought a soft smile to her lips, and she wiped at the corner of her eye, looking so much more relieved than before. "Thank you," you went on to say. "I guess I'll never know to what extent you saved me, but thanks. I appreciate it."
"It wasn't just you, San. This has helped, saved, more than just you. You don't need to thank me," she said, reaching over and grabbing your hand. You entwined your fingers in her and thought over what she had said.
Fifty words had helped…saved…more than just you, which meant that you apparently weren't the only one who had troubled times ahead. But by changing one part, one tiny piece of the jigsaw, other people's lives had been changed, too.
"Rachel?" you wondered, trying to see if she was one of the ones that had been helped by Fifty Words. Brittany nodded softly and awaited the next name.
"Quinn?" This time, she nodded vigorously, and a part of your chest ached at the thought of how things were playing out before Fifty Words. You had been messing her about and screwing her over, and if you'd had your words it would have been a lot worse. You would have used those words to cruelly break her heart, something she definitely didn't deserve. Thank fuck for Fifty Words.
"You?" Brittany smiled sweetly and nodded once, as if happy with that development.
"We all need you in our lives, and this was a sure way of keeping you around," she added, squeezing your hand once more. Her words alone had fear creeping up your spine and making your eyes widen for a second.
"Keeping me around?" You tried to hide the anxiety at the thought, but it was impossible to do so, and it slipped out in the tone of your voice.
"I think you can put the pieces together," Brittany replied softly.
You could. You knew exactly what she was saying and you took a shaky breath and squeezed her hand at the mere thought of how things could have gone.
"So do you forgive me for interfering?" she asked after giving you a moment to come to terms with what she'd just said.
"I wouldn't say you interfered. You didn't interfere at all, actually. But yes, I do." You knew that's what she needed to hear, and you were happy to tell her so. There really wasn't anything to forgive, now that you knew the bigger picture.
It was with a smile on both your faces that the two of you walked out the auditorium, hand in hand, and headed back to your lockers. That conversation had certainly cleared up everything you needed it to, and somehow, it felt like a weight had been lifted.
Before, you had no idea if Fifty Words might come back at any moment, as if this reprieve was only temporary. But from what Brittany had said, you assumed that you could only get your words back if your lesson had been learnt, so to speak, and it seemed that was the case. No more nightmares about the voiceover being back. No more fears of never getting the chance to tell Quinn you loved her. You had your words back for good.
You were free from Fifty Words, and it was surprisingly bittersweet. On one hand, you missed the voice over counting you, making you use your words properly but on the other, you were happy to be able to speak without fear of being cut off, of getting to say more than one word, and of using your words to speak to all of your friends each day, and not just one.
Fifty Words had saved you, and with that thought in mind, all bad blood and left over venom you had for it was gone.
*0*0*
Later on that afternoon, once classes had finished, you found yourself sitting in the back of Glee, waiting on it to start. Rachel was talking with Artie and Tina about God only knows what, but you'd saved her a seat for when she was done. She had given you a curious glance when you'd walked in, wondering about lunch no doubt, but her curiosity seemed to die when she saw you take a seat next to Brittany and curl up against her.
Obviously, she was worried about the two of you possibly fighting but that was not the case. You actually didn't see yourself fighting with either of them, seriously anyway. Bickering was likely, but fighting, full on arguing just seemed so out of place in the friendships you had built with them. It felt rather nice, knowing that all your major differences had been put aside and there wasn't the risk of hurting each other.
Granted, change still needed to be made with Quinn, but it seemed like it was happening. You were giving her the benefit of the doubt with Rachel, and were hoping that you weren't going to regret it. But, really, you couldn't see Quinn making the effort she had with the girl if it was to only make her fall flat on her face. The old Quinn Fabray, pre-baby, would have most definitely have done that, but the Quinn you knew, the one you fell in love with, wouldn't. Or so you hoped.
Just thinking about the girl had your eyes scanning the room, only to end up rolling them as Mr. Schue walked in late and began wrangling everyone's attention to the front. He started droning on and on about this week's word on the board, and you wanted to point out how none of this was going to help the team with Regionals.
Rachel seemed to be on the same page as you and tried to interrupt him, but he wasn't having any of it. Jackass. The rest of the team seemed to be in agreement with your thought because as soon as he shot her down, everyone sort of deflated in their seats, slouching down and crossing their arms.
Snuggling into Brittany's side further, you yawned and fought to keep your eyes open, briefly wondering if you could take a nap. Schue probably wouldn't even notice. Well, he might not, but the hazel eyes you had previously been seeking out most definitely would notice. Quinn was sitting in the row in front of you, but while you were sitting on the far right of the room, she was on the far left, and hardly needed to turn her head at all to see you.
She smiled and appeared to make a tutting noise with her tongue, which had you grinning back at her. You rolled your eyes and attempted to sit up a little straighter, unsettling Brittany a little in the process but she didn't look to mind. Quinn nodded proudly at you and you smiled like an idiot.
This wasn't even conversation, but it felt like a nice little bit of development. She was goofing off with you, something neither of you had done in so long, and it felt good to have that back. Plus, it was a pleasant surprise when you didn't think she'd even acknowledge. Sometimes it was so hard to work out what mood she was in, but at least she looked to be pretty happy today. With her like this, how could you not give her the benefit of the doubt when it came to Rachel? Surely she knew that if she hurt the other girl you would not only be hurt but be pissed.
"Santana?" Mr. Schue interrupted, making you pull your eyes away from Quinn and towards the front.
He was looking at you expectantly and you had no idea why. You hadn't been listening, and it seemed that it was obvious to everyone in the room but him.
"What?" you blurted out, frowning at him. He looked a little exasperated by your brutish reply and lack of listening but was kind enough to repeat what he'd said.
"Do you feel like singing today, Santana? Perhaps give us a solo performance instead of just back-up vocals in the group numbers?" You knew he was trying to get you back in the game for the upcoming competitions but no, just no.
"Not yet, Mr. Schue." Accepting your answer, he turned back to the group and started on about something else.
"Why aren't you singing?" Rachel asked, leaning over the gap between your chairs to whisper it to you, curiosity coating her words.
"I just don't feel like it, yet." You shrugged one shoulder, unsure why exactly you weren't ready, but knowing not to question it. You were fine to join in on the group numbers, when it didn't matter that much, but a solo performance so was much different.
Every time you sang, you gave yourself to the song, you pushed you emotions and feelings into it, and right now, you just couldn't do it. You were taxed beyond your means, still trying to put things back together after Fifty Words, mentally, and that meant singing was not high on your agenda.
It would come back, you knew it would, but as for now, you were content to sing the backup parts and let the others have the limelight. Of course, no one else complained, though you could see the slight worry frown in Rachel's face each time you turned down a chance to shine.
Turning back around to the rest of the group, you also noticed another concerned face, and you darted your eyes away from the piercing Hazels that had hooked you in. She was curious, too, no doubt, but you weren't quite ready for her to ask about it. She would be able to read you like a book and just know what the problem was, and probably blame herself for putting you under stress. You didn't want that. You never wanted Quinn to think that she was causing you problems when she wasn't. Not really.
*0*0*
The school week continued much like it usually did, and you spent most of your time with Brittany and Rachel. Nothing unusual there. You really hadn't seen Quinn all that much, but after Monday, when you did see her, she was talking in hushed voices to Brittany, looking slightly more frazzled than usual, and you couldn't help but wonder what happened to the easy smiled girl you had seen in Glee.
A part of you wanted to seek her out, ask her if everything was okay, but that just didn't seem like the right plan of action. You were always going to her, and while there was nothing wrong with it, there's only so many times you can take the slight and rejection when she won't talk to you about her problems, or the pain of knowing you are the problem.
No, Brittany seemed to have a decent handle on whatever was going down, so you didn't need to get involved. In fact, she hadn't even mentioned there being any problem with Quinn, or that the girl was talking to her. You weren't going to be bothered by this, as Brittany knew when to share what info with whom, so if she was keeping it from you, it was probably for a good reason.
Sighing at the thoughts buzzing around your head, you sunk deeper into the auditorium chair and waited. It was Thursday lunchtime, and you were listening for the sound of the door, signalling Rachel's arrival. She must have been running late, probably stuck with Mr. Schue talking about Glee club or her remarkable Spanish grade. You weren't bothered, she'd turn up eventually.
It wasn't long before you did hear the door, and not long after that you heard the footsteps making their way towards you, but you were surprised to find it wasn't Rachel. Instead, Quinn was biting her lip nervously, bag in one hand, and the other running over the tops of the seats as she walked down your row.
"Can I join you?" she asked, looking at you briefly before looking away.
You were surprised to see her, and you were sure your face said as much. But how could you turn her down? This was the first time she'd approached you all week, and it might be her trying to make good on her word, to respect your boundaries and be friends, so you couldn't exactly turn her down. You didn't want to turn her down.
But Rachel.
"She's not coming," Quinn added, watching as you glanced back at the auditorium door. Rather than ask why, you raised your eyebrow in question, making Quinn fidget some more. "I asked her if it would be okay to let me spend lunch with you. If you'd rather I go, though, I can go and get her-"
Clearly your lack of reply had given the impression that Quinn wasn't wanted and that she'd made a mistake because she turned to leave, prompting you to suddenly speak up. It was silly, really, because she'd been messing about with you on Monday, and now you were back to being like strangers. Strangers who knew how to make the other one weak at the knees, and tear each other apart.
"No, stay, please." You ran your hand through your hair, and bit your lip anxiously as Quinn stood there debating whether or not to take a seat.
She opted to stay, but sat down two seats away from you. You didn't want to even think why that distance stung you, but it did. Maybe this was her respecting your boundaries, visually, or maybe she just didn't think you would be comfortable sitting next to her.
Well, that was crap.
Getting up, you grabbed your bag and moved along the row until you were sitting down next to her. Quinn looked a little surprised, though it didn't last for long. Her expression softened, her mask came down, and she sent you a thankful smile. Your heart was revelling in it.
"So, what did I do to earn this pleasure?"
"You made me fall in love with you." You paused and glanced to the side to look at her, she was biting her lip, fighting a smile and shrugged her shoulders when she caught you looking. "I really just wanted to hang out with you, but I figured that sounded better."
You balked and laughed at her boldness, and then shook your head, smiling. She caught on that you weren't fazed by her words and finally allowed herself to smile back. Plus, it was kinda sweet that she wanted to hang out with you, alone, given the only time the two of you were alone lately you were either fighting or fucking.
This would actually be quite a surreal change if you could avoid doing both of those things.
Pulling out your food to begin eating caused Quinn to do the same, and for about five or so minutes, neither of you spoke. It wasn't awkward, surprisingly, but rather peaceful just sitting there with her. Eventually, she did spur up conversation, nothing seriously, and you were happy to answer her and ask questions in kind.
It had been so long since a proper conversation had been had that you felt your mood lifting around her with each passing second. You were also feeling the full effects of those Hazel eyes of hers, and there was no way they could make you feel down or sad.
After a while of talking about the Cheerios, this week's theme in Glee, and moaning about your classes, you decided it was time to maybe be a little bit bold. Quinn had taken a step out of her comfort zone, and you could to. You weren't going to get involved, but you were concerned, and it couldn't hurt to ask. With that in mind, you cleared your throat and shot a look over to Quinn.
"You okay this week?" you asked, hoping she'd be honest, but her defences came up pretty quickly. It was the wrong move, but one you couldn't take back.
"Why wouldn't I be?" she replied, shifting in her chair to look at you better.
"I've seen you with Brittany, and you look pretty stressed out." She looked surprised by this news, but brushed it off pretty quickly.
"Yeah…she's helping me with some work and it's just a little tricky. Everything's fine." She tucked her hair behind her ear and looked away once more, shrugging one of her shoulders in the process, and you knew it was time to call bullshit.
"You know I can tell when you're lying your ass off, right?" She chuckled at your words and nodded. "So do you maybe want to try the truth this time?"
"I've just been doing some thinking and Brittany's been there to offer advice. Don't worry about it, I'm honestly alright." That was closer to the truth, but she was still holding something back.
However, you weren't going to pressure her for anymore. It was kind of her to even tell you that when she didn't have to, so it as best to quit while you were ahead. You nodded and fought back the overwhelming need to support her through whatever troubles she was facing.
"If you need anything, you know you can always ask me, right?" you offered after a moment's pause.
Last you had spoken to Quinn, she was falling apart at the seams. You knew that in her head she was spiralling out of control, thinking over every little thing, considering every option, recalling every scenario, and struggling to keep her life in check. All of that had to, not only, be draining mentally but physically, too. So, when you saw her looking stressed out and haggard with Brittany, you couldn't help yourself from wondering about the girl. You just wanted to be there for her.
"I know, and thank you, but you can't help me with this," Quinn replied, giving you a sad smile, her defences falling. It hurt to know you couldn't help, but you should have expected as much. "So now that we've started down this depressing route, anything else you want to ask me?" It was a joke, and she held a humourless smile in place, but actually, yes there was.
"You couldn't hang out with me around Rachel?" you wondered, not really having a problem with it, but you hated the idea of having to hang out with them separately all the time. When Brittany was there to be a buffer, it seemed to work fine, but you knew Brittany wouldn't always be around, and you wanted to sort it out as soon as possible.
"I could have, but I just…I wanted to avoid that for as long as possible," she answered, her eyes staring off at the stage, mindful not to look in your direction. It was probably better she didn't see your reaction anyway, as you were sure she wouldn't like the frown in your brow one bit.
"Avoid what exactly?"
"You and her." She said it so simply, as if it was obvious, but it hit a nerve with you, and you sighed rather loudly, shaking your head as you did so.
"Q, we've been through this, we're friends, best friends. That's it," you stated, trying hard not to get annoyed with her about this.
"You know that's not true, San. I know you're aware of how she feels about you," she replied, still looking away, still sounding so blasé about the whole thing.
"Okay, maybe I am, and don't let her know that because I don't want it jeopardising our friendship, but so what? She has feelings for me, not the other way around."
"Really? Do you honestly believe that?" Quinn asked sharply, finally turning to look at you, finally giving you eye contact, finally allowing you to see the pain behind her eyes, the overwhelming sadness that sat there, and the terrifying sight of defeat.
"Yes, of course I do!"
"I'm not blind, Santana. I can see what is happening, whether you're aware of it or not. You're no longer looking at her the way you used to. It's changed. You're seeing her as more than just a friend, and I know that look because you had it for Brittany, for me, and now her."
Her words hit you like a bucket of cold water, and you sat, frozen, for a moment. You swallowed back the lump in your throat and shook your head some more, needing to eject those words from your brain.
"No, no, you're wrong, Q," you said, this time being the one to avoid making eye contact.
"The fact of the matter is, she can give you things I can't. She can be out and open, and I know that's what you want. I can't do that. It's selfish, it's selfish of me to want to keep you to myself, to keep you hidden, to hope you'll still love me despite my reluctance. But I can't help it. I'm trying, I really am, but it doesn't change anything. She's selflessly in love with you, and I'm selfishly flawed, desperate to hold onto your heart until I can be out…if I can be out."
You sat there stumped. You had no clue what to say. Everything she had said was technically true, but it was false at the same time. She was flawed, she was being selfish, but it didn't change anything. You were still in love with her, you still thought about her every day, you still wished it was her you were cuddling up and watching movies with on your Friday nights, you still hoped it would be her lips you could kiss goodnight, good morning, and good afternoon.
Hearing a slight sniffle from next to you, you looked over sharply and saw her wiping tears off her cheeks frantically and trying hard to stay composed. She never did like anyone to see her cry. It looked to be in vain, as more tears ran down her cheeks, and Quinn made the move to get up, leaving her bag on the floor next to you.
You weren't having that. The two of you were so good at running away from your problems. You just couldn't have her leave, especially not when she was upset. Acting fast before she made it to the end of the row, you followed her and spun her body back round to face you. As if on instinct, the second you pulled her into your body, she dropped her face into the crook of your neck and clung to you, her body shaking from fighting back the need to cry. There was so much you wanted to say, so much you felt that she needed to know, but you knew she wouldn't hear it, she would need to calm down before she heard anything. So you stood, holding her tightly, desperately wishing you could take her pain away.
While her opinions once were wholly inaccurate, you couldn't help but admit some things had changed. The way you were looking at Rachel, the way you were seeing her, was not what it used to be, and Quinn was right.
Quinn was also wrong, however. When you saw yourself in a relationship, walking down the hallways with your girlfriend's hand in yours, it was Quinn's hand you were holding. When you saw yourself going on dates out and about in Lima, they were with Quinn. When you saw yourself whispering I love you in the dark of night, it was to Quinn, not Rachel.
There was no way for you to effectively tell her that, though. You could try and try and try, but Quinn would never believe it. Her insecurities ran too deep, and you couldn't fault her for that. She was scared of losing you, of having you slip through her fingers because of fear, and her thinking and actions were skewed from it.
If only she could feel what you feel when you held her like this, then she'd know she has nothing to worry about. It would take more than what couldn't even be described as a crush to have you moving on from her. Hell, in your eyes, you still hadn't lost Quinn. You were just waiting.
All you had to do was bide your time, and it would fall into place. It had to. You needed it to because there was just no way you could leave this girl behind. And yes, it didn't make sense. The two of you were off to different colleges next year, and long distance relationships aren't easy, but fucking hell, you loved her.
Love does not fix everything, does not excuse every action, and does not automatically make one happy, but it was worth it. And loving Quinn, it was worth all the pain, all the heartache, all the tears, if you only got to have her in your arms for that split second.
But holding her there, hearing and feeling her fall apart from all the heartache and pain, had you wondering if she felt the same. Were you worth all this misery?
*0*0*