Chapter 23 – Valerie is my Christmas

Santana

A/N: Since It's been way too long (been to Thailand for a month and had Swedish SATS) so here's a LONG chapter.
...got woken up by my friend, texting me about Cory. I cried so much. It feels wrong. I love cory, and I like Finn a lot as a character.
Don't get confused by my bitchy Santana, it doesn't change what happened on the show. She is rude. So be warned, okay?

I'm really sad. Actually, the only safe thing I KNEW about Glee was that it would be Finchel in the end. Now...?
It feels like I don't know anything. But hey... Bright side to all this horrible sadness! Maybe this means Faberry will truly happen?
*sad but kinda happy face*

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"Are you trying to throw this?"`Rachel's voice makes me wanna – as always – rip her throat out. Quinn apparently feels the same.

"You used to be just kind of unlikeable," she leans down closer to the insufferable creation, and I feel like kissing her, "but now I pretty much just feel like punching you every time you open your mouth." Rachel looks away as me and Britt smile. Mr. Schuester ignores it – he probably agrees.

"Look, I've talked the talk about everyone in here being special, but frankly I haven't walked the walk. I mean, we have got a lot of talent here! And I'm gonna highlight it." Rachel stage whispers to her perfect little puff pastry.

"DO SOMETHING." I roll my eyes, leaning over to Brittany. I agree with Quinn, this chica is in complete psycho mode nowadays. The manly puff pastry is going on about his football thing. Yawn.

"This isn't about me, this is about the team!" Okay, that's my bullshit limit for today.

"You are such a hypocrite!" Rachel snots my way and I want to take that thought of Quinn's into action.

"Hah! Like you even know what that means." I snap.

"It means that your boyfriend is full of crap. Hobbit!" That captures her interest. She stands up, facing me.

"You know what? Ever sense the wedding you've been up my butt and I'm sick of it!" Well, what else can I do. Men are scums, and I need to pick on someone. Finn speaks up, that jerk.

"Come on Rachel, she's not worth it." Oooh.

"Oh really? That's not what you thought last year in that motel room." I can't stop it now. He can thank himself for being a real jerk and not telling her. I'm an honest bitch, not a lying, two faced one. Well, at least I was honest most of the time. I lean over, glaring at Rachel. "That's right, Yental. Your sweetheart? He's been lying to you. 'Cuss he and I totally got it on last year." Mr. Schue, who's probably really into our relationship drama, finally speaks up. Guess he's a Finchel fan after all.

"Okay, enough already! No more conversations about this!" I lean back, almost adding; If they'd been honest and had conversations about this before, we wouldn't be having them now.

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I was sitting in the gym, leaning back against the bleachers. The shadow of me as part of the cheerios were still haunting this place, and if Sue knew that Mr. Schuester sneaked us in here after Cheerio practice hours, she'd probably drop a piano on top of him. The auditorium was ours for the taking, but the other Glee members were practicing over there and I wanted to work on my solo number in peace. Mike and Brittany had been here too, of course, for the last hour now. I'd been singing to them dancing, and I think all of us seriously needed a shower by now. Sweat was trickling down my back and my tank top was damp.

The back of my head was still sore from where Lauren had slammed me against the lockers. It was embarrassing as hell, but she was the most vulgar and disgusting person I'd seen in this school. And that is saying something. No one liked her. I think the other Glee members hated her more than me, which felt kind of refreshing, since I was such a bitch a lot of the time.

I can't believe Puck was such a wuss. Maybe because he didn't dare to talk against someone who could throw me around like a napkin. He was completely emasculated by her. It annoyed me to no end, but at the same time… I felt like I couldn't care less. Maybe the not caring was the most frustrating bit. I needed to feel something, we had been almost dating for over a year. But just… nothing.

"Hey." Brittany sat down next to me on the bench, smiling slightly. Her bangs were wet and she drank from her water bottle. Mike waved at us as he left for the showers. Britt waved back, calling;

"See you tomorrow." They were so good. I was never jealous of the two of them. Their relationship was purely platonic – if you ignore the kiss they shared about a year ago; Britt and her perfect score. Besides how could you be angry at something that flowed with such perfection? They complemented each other in their dancing so well you'd think they'd been twirling inside their mothers' wombs. Besides… every now and then Brittany would walk past me, or twirl and her eyes would land on me. Somehow, no matter how much they were into the dance, she would find me like she knew exactly here I was all the time. It made me tingly and uncomfortable at the same time.

"How's the head coming?" I shrugged, not meeting her piercing blue eyes.

"It's better. Kind of." She bumped her shoulder to mine, smiling.

"Good. It was really scary. She's scary." I nodded. I wasn't scared, just embarrassed. But Britt's concern made me feel better, smaller, and I didn't mind her wanting to protect me for once. Just letting myself think of it like that for a little bit made me feel better.

"Soo… you chose the song, right?" I furrowed my brows.

"Uhm, yeah. I talked to Mr. Schuester, but he agreed. He even helped me spice it up a bit." She nodded, hands on her knees.

"So, who's Valerie then?" Her face didn't show a sign of irony. She stared forward, and when I didn't answer she looked back at me, face serious.

"I know the song goes like that, but… You are clearly singing about an actual person." Sometimes she would surprise me so much I'd be left speechless. I hadn't even given the song a second thought, but when she said it I realized with a start that of course it was. One step ahead of me, that brilliant girl who everyone thought was no smarter than a 5 year old.

"Not really…" I said weakly. She narrowed her almond shaped eyes at me.

"Is she some girl you liked?" I pretend to be confused.

"You mean some girl Amy Winehouse liked? Or well, some girls some other dude liked. 'Cuss Amy's is not the original." She looks at me sideways and mumbles, under her breath:

"Well, I was a little jealous." My heart leaps up into my throat. She looks a bit guilty. I feel my cheeks grow flushed but I clam up and refuse to comment on it. She's with Artie.

Brittany leans back on the rows behind us, looking up into the glass ceiling.

"Why did you pick a song about a girl? It's kind of a love song, isn't it?" She says it like it's nothing but something about the way she's twirling her water bottle in her hands tells me otherwise.

"It doesn't have to be…" I say, scared what to find if I keep thinking about my choice. For once I'd gone on intuition. Maybe, somehow, since I knew she was off limits, I'd stopped thinking about these things so much. About the way I was acting. It scared me that I could be that careless.

"I sing Amy Winehouse the best so I just picked a favorite." She still stared up at the sky through the glass, as if looking for a sign of different life forms out there. Suddenly, she closed her eyes.

"You sing everything amazingly. Adele, Kelly Clarkson, Michael Jackson… everything." I blushed again letting the silence dominate us. What was she trying to do? It wasn't like she was available. And about the song, she didn't believe it was a made up person. I decided diversion was the best way to go.

"So, how's Artie?" She shrugged.

"He's alright. Sweet." Then her face fell. "He gave me this…" she glance at me, shyly. "This magic comb that was supposed to give us luck during our performance. But I took Daphney to Motor Cross practice, and we got caked with mud… I threw my clothes in the wash, but I forgot to pick the comb out of my pocket. I asked my mum for it, but… it was gone. Maybe Lord Tubbington ate it. He's been acting very strangely lately." She eyed me. "Maybe he misses you. You haven't been over for awhile." I didn't know why she kept returning to this subject. It was worthless to talk about it – about us.

"I don't want to disturb you and hot ride." She gave me a stern gaze. Well, I thought, Lord Tubbington is probably jealous, just like me. I too want you to myself sometimes. "Don't worry about the magic comb. Maybe it just melted and became a part of your pants? So now they are magical?" I watched her face change from disturbed to gleeful in a second. Her hand went to mine, rubbing her thumb across my wrist.

"I really hope that's true. We need all the luck we can get. But I'm truly ashamed; It's the first thing Artie ever gave me. And he seemed to really like it…" She let go of me and banged her water bottle to her head. "I'm such a clutz."

"No, I'm sure he'll understand if you just… tell him." I felt my heart sink with every second that I let this conversation go on. "Besides, you and Mike are amazing. You two create magic all on your own."

"We've still got some moves to perfect, but it's going well." She mumbled, closing her eyes, still holding the cold water bottle to her forehead.

"Brittany, about hanging out…" I took a deep breath. I could feel her eyes on me; they were giving me electrical shots. "…I just can't." I glanced at her. Her icing blue gaze was piercing me expectantly.

"When two people are best friends, like we are… they usually want to hang out all the time, and share a bed, and hold hands and watch films and cuddle and…" I took a deep breath. Then stopped.

"And I don't want to share those things with anyone but you." I'm still mumbling. Rambling. But she is breathing quietly next to me. I hear the sound of her clothes as she leans closer.

"You don't have to. We'll make time. Artie doesn't need to be there for everything." Her forehead connects with my shoulder. I can feel her breath on my skin, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand. I so much want to lean back, touch her hair, kiss her cheek but… all I can think is that I don't want him there for anything.

"Yeah, okay." I say while my head is shouting I CAN'T, I CAN'T, I CAN'T! I can't take being in her room where the sheets are crumpled by someone else's body. I can't go into her bathroom smelling the faint trace of his cologne. I can't find his sock under the bed. I can't handle walking through the door and seeing Bailey's disappointed face over the fact that it's not the boy on wheels who plays with her that is coming over. I just… can't. I push the realization away, not wanting to care what they mean, all of these feelings. Girls do tend to get jealous when their best friends get boyfriends. I know this, I tell myself. I read it in a magazine. It's normal. You're normal.

I sigh and stand up, leaving the warmth of Brittany. I smile slightly at her.

"I'm not showering. I gotta hurry home. Dracula's waiting for me, and I need to save dad from her blood sucking mouth." Brittany shakes her head, but tries a smile as well.

"Okay. I'll stay a little longer." I nod.

"Don't forget to turn the lights out, yeah?" She nods too. I start walking towards the door and turn around when I reach it. She's looking back up at the ceiling, studying the dark brown clouds that are hurrying across the ink black sky.

"Oh, and Brittany?" She turns to look at me.

"You're right. Valerie is a real person. A real girl." With that I turn around and walk out the door. I knock on mike's door, telling him to please wait for Brittany and then I head home. I decide to walk, even though my car is in the parking lot. I need it. The wind tears at my clothes and shriek in my ears, but it's nice. It drowns out the sorrowful wailing of my heart. You'd think those old hummingbirds had turned into wolves.

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I had never planned on eavesdropping. I was going to wish her good luck when my way was cut off by Puck. He started talking and by the time I was gonna give him some lame excuse to get away, I saw Artie and Brittany together. Even worse – I heard them. Almost as clearly as if I'd been standing right next to them. They were fighting. The way Artie looked at her – I wanted to tip his wheelchair and set it on fire. Then pretend to be putting out the flames by peeing on it. Or him. I wasn't exactly of fan of the two of them, but seeing Brittany so hurt… it was worse. Way worse.

"When?" her voice rang out.

"When I was accusing you of adultery!"

"What does that have to do with me cheating?" She looked so sweet, helpless. It got me more angry. He was using those strange words on purpose. Besides, she's way too nice to cheat on him. It would never happen. That realization made me snap my head away, pain most likely showing on my face. I'd had her in reach all this time, but was way too cowardly to do anything about it. CRAP.

"Adultery means cheating."

"I thought it meant being stupid! Like being a dolt. I didn't cheat on you… I did something much worse." She pulls up on her knees. I try to pry my eyes away but they're just… there. Puck says something and I hum, without looking away.

"I lost your magic comb. I don't know what happened, I had it in my pocket and then I went to motor cross practice and then I felt it was gone. That's why I've been avoiding you… I was so ashamed… That magic comb was our chance of winning! The only thing keeping me from totally swrewing it up." Artie smiles. I feel the taste of blood in my mouth. I realize I've bitten on the inside of my cheek so hard the skin broke. I leave Puck with a quick word, going to find water to wash my mouth out. I still have a minute. There's a throbbing pain across my chest, like I've got pheumonia. A sob rocks through my body. I empty the cup I find and try to shove the sorrow down deep below, where nobody can ever find it. This is my chance. My chance to sing about… well, Valerie.

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I got carried away. When Britt slapped my ass – which was totally out of line – my heart ran away like it was a wild horse.

"When I sit by myself
And I look across the water!
And I think of all the things, what you're doing,"

Britt comes in, and we're dancing again. When I look at her my heart, our bodies, our eyes, are the only thing in the world. Everything else melts away. My wailing heart is lulled to laughter, for a few minutes.

"And in my head I paint a picture!"

She fans herself – as if I'm truly singing about her. Wait, correct that. As if she knows I'm truly singing about her. Mike moves, then everything is, as always, Britt again.

"Why don't you come on over?
Stop making a fool out of me!
Why don't you come on over,
Valerie?"

They take the stage. My Britt is amazing. She flips off Mike's back like she's doing something as natural as yawning. The boys vs. the girls and she approaches me and suddenly I know too, for real, why I chose this song. It's not about a girl named Valerie. It's all about her. Swap their names and it's all her. Blonde hair, blue eyes though… Brittany. I take off the microphone from its stand, motioning with a curling finger for her to come closer. She does it all too willingly. That wasn't in the choreography. And in my head, the lyrics are all wrong but just right.

"Cuss since I've come on home,
well my body's been a mess!
And I miss your long blonde hair,
and the way you like to dress!
Won't you come on over?
Why don't you come on over, Brittany?"

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It was Christmas Night, and everyone had left from Mr Schuester's hours ago. I sat in my window, looking out into the garden, wishing I had someone at home to share it with. Both Cruella and dad were working since Christmas is one of the busiest days of the year for the hospital. I guess Dracula would've bothered keeping me company had I not said I was invited over to a friend's house. Not that everything would be better with any one of those around, but at least I wished I hadn't been completely alone. Last year I'd spent with Brittany, and it had been the best Christmas I could remember. Silke and Bernard had made a huge Christmas dinner and Brittany had insisted that I'd come over and celebrate after she figured out I would be alone.

I'd protested at first, but I hadn't really wanted to be alone, of course. I'd eaten too much of everything, even letting myself have a some of the homemade chocolate brownies and cranberry ice cream that'd been offered. Then we sat around the Christmas tree with the TV showing the Polar Express, and I was relieved I'd bought presents for all of them, because they'd gotten tons of presents for me, even Daphne had made me a bracelet of white and red, to fit my cheering costume, which was great.

The dog had been lying at our feet, Mittens had played with the ribbons and paper strewn about the floor and Daphne had cuddled with Pancakes, who'd closed his eyes and enjoyed the peaceful calm and quiet. Brittany had snaked a hand underneath the pillow I'd had in my lap and took my hand underneath it, letting her thumb stroke the back of my hand as we looked at the TV.

This year Brittany's biggest wish was to make Artie walk again. I had felt like crying blood when she'd said it. She was such a sweet, caring person and I hated that stupid guy to come wheeling into her life and changing everything with pretend magic and wonders. He didn't deserve her, he'd probably had tons of normal Christmas eve's with his loving family, and now he'd been asked to come into Brittany's Christmas as well, taking away the only chance of a decent Christmas eve I'd ever had.

I took it all pretty good. The pervy Mall Santa, the crazy wish. I was all for making Brit... Believe in the wonders of the world. But lying to her like that? I just couldn't be a part of it. With a small white cotton star hitting the window, I awakened from my Brittany dreams. Big pieces of wool were fluttering down from the sky.

I hurried to put on some clothes before making my way out onto the streets. It was about 11:04 which meant no one was out but me, and the snow had already draped a two centimetres deep duvet over our small world. I looked up, feeling the wind catch my hair and ram dozens of tiny, cold flakes straight onto my cheeks and eyelids. I breathed in and started walking, not really knowing where, just knowing it was away. And maybe also a little towards.

I reach out to drape some snow up on my index finger, looked at it as if it was icing from a cupcake and smiled at the sugar coated cars all around me. I put the finger in my mouth, tasting water and cold, remembering that mum used to yell at me for eating snow. I look at my footsteps, making a distinct pattern in the snow, leading the way as if across a huge white map. To think I am the first one to walk in this snow, the first one to make a mark. Early tomorrow morning, someone will walk here and think: "Oh, someone has been walking here. Wow. I'm the second one to ever make my mark in this snow."

I happened to see Brittany's big house closing in on me, and the cat was sitting outside on the gate. It's dark fur was covered in flakes, and it stared tentatively at me, as if it was making sure I know how upset it was for being left outside. it started to look like a lamb before my eyes, and I walked all the way up to it, smiling as it mewed when it recognized me. It's not until then that I realize it's much less fat than Lord Tubbington – and that it is not his kind of meow.

"Seriously?!" I almost shout out, and she closed her eyes half way, her ears slightly put back. "How-, where-, when-...!?" She just looked at me like: "You gonna let me in or not?" Holy shit.

"Merry Christmas, Mittens," I say, my voice sounding like thunder in the muffled silence of the snow. Mittens stood up, reaching out with her head towards me, and pushed into me, head first, in the stomach. "Missed you too, kitty." I said, trying not to cry. It's hard though, especially when she sets her front paws on my front, looking up into my face with half closed eyes, purring loudly.

I took her into my arms and put my nose in her cold fur, smelling old memories of Brittany and home baked cookies in there. Maybe I could steal Mittens away before they noticed her and I wouldn't be completely alone.

"Lord Tubbington? Tubby?" I hear the sound before I can place it. Silke's voice cut through the silence like a knife. I looked up, and so did Mittens, as Brittany's mom came out through the front door in a pink robe and Bernard's huge snow boots on her tiny feet. She saw me, and closed the door, only to hurry out into the yard and towards me, Mittens and the gate.

"Santana, dear!" she says, pulling her robe tighter around her chest.

"Merry Christmas Mrs. Pierce," I said, trying to swallow down the tears already running down my cheeks. I hate crying. "It's this damn cold," I smiled unconvincingly.

Silke nodded as if she knew I mean the water from my eyes and stepped even closer, giving me a smile that tells me she was genuinely happy to see me. Then she saw the cat.

"Is that...? Oh my goodness!" Her hand snapped to her chest. Then she looked at me, reached out and patted the cat who started purring in my arms. She took a hold of her and hugged her so tightly that she mewed a little.

"I can't... wow. This is amazing." She looked up at me, wide eyed. "Thank you."

"It was all her, Mrs. Pierce. I just walked over here, and she was sitting here, like she was waiting for you." She kissed the cat's head, before giving me a stern look.

"Since when did you start calling me Mrs. Pierce, dear?" She laughed, opening the gate and stepped aside to let me in. I stand my ground, holding my hands close to my chest as if they would be able to protect me from coming inside and seeing Artie and Brittany by the TV, feeding each other home made Christmas candy.

"We all missed you terribly this year," Silke said, putting a hand on the cat, and scratching her behind her ear absent-mindedly. I kept quiet, looking at the cat, who was staring at me. Almost like she was telling me she'd been waiting out here for my sake, not theirs. I blinked. So did the cat.

"Lord Tubbington became very angry with that poor boy when he visited this afternoon," Silke chortled. "He almost run him over a few times, and he thought his wheelchair was so scary that he escaped through the kitchen window!" I smiled a little, enjoying the shame Artie must've felt when he scared Brittany's favourite pet like that.

"He's a nice boy," she continued, and my heart felt like it was gonna burst with pain. Silke was the kindest woman I knew after Brittany, and she could hardly hate anyone. But a part of me had wished for her to dislike Artie, since I wanted to be the favourite in the family.

"I really like him, but don't think it'll last especially long," she continued, and I finally looked up. She was smiling at me. "Brittany, she's just not going to end up with a boy-... a person, like him." after some thought she added, "She likes him, but it's obviously not love." I couldn't stop the grin from roaming over my face.

Silke draped an arm around my shoulders, put the cat back in my arms and pulled me close to her.

"Come on now, dear." There's still so much food left, and I was just about to make some sandwiches. And the ice cream is ready to be eaten..." She squeezed me tighter as she said that, but even though I wanted nothing more, I stepped back a few steps.

"Sorry, Silke. I better get back home." Silke looked at me with that mothers-knows-best look she usually gets when me or Brit or Daphne are trying to convince her of something that's not true.

"She'd be thrilled to see you."
"I doubt it," I muttered, mostly to myself, but she caught it, of course.

"She misses you, a mother knows these things."

"I don't think me showing up, unannounced will change her mind." I tell her, not really sure what I mean. I was a bitch to her about the Artie business. And I had been avoiding her as much as I could.

"It's Christmas, Santana. Time for forgiveness."

"It's also the time for change," I say, shrugging.

"Yet you show up here, on Christmas Eve, honey." I take another step back, looking away not to meet her gaze. My inner bitch says I should defend myself, but she just never comes out when Silke's around.

"I miss her too." I say, letting the new found Mittens down and turn around to walk away.

"Merry Christmas, Santana dear!" I hear her call after me, but I keep walking until I'm sure she's gone in. That's when I turn around to see a shadow in Brittany's room. I stare at it, feeling her stormy blue eyes on me. Then I give it up and go home – to one of dad's finest bottles of Whiskey to keep me warm.

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A/N: Look, guys. I wrote two endings to this chapter. A long time ago – right after I'd seen the episode, actually. And I decided on the bad one, since Santana is being a total chicken, not defending Britt's honour in then 11th episode. I was kind of bummed out by her behaviour, and how she was being such a quiet little mouse compared to the otherwise roaring mountain lioness. So I had to keep it short, sad and well... to make sense of it all. But I decided to give you this anyway... because you also deserve the ending I wish I'd been able to write for them already in this episode. But sadly, it doesn't go with the story... but enjoy...:

...

As we entered the hall, Mittens still in my arms, Daphne and Bernard looked up from the sofa at me.

"Dears, look who finally showed up!" Silke laughed as she kicked off her husband's shoes and went inside.

"Santana!" A loud cry was heard from the top of the stairs, and hurling down came Brittany, with her constant shadow Bailey just behind. She threw her arms around me and the cat, overwhelming me in her smell and burying me in her thick knitted sweater.

"I'm so glad you're here", she whispered into my ear, quiet enough for Mittens to miss it. Then she let go of me and realized who I had in my arms.

"Mi...Mittens? Is that you?" The cat mewed, pawing at me and mewing. When Britt took her in her arms, she purred so loudly I thought it was a lawn mower. I heard Britt sniffle.

"You went to fat camp!?" I laughed, and so did the family as they gathered around, petting and kissing both the crying Brittany and the cat. I stood there, feeling awkward.

"It's a Christmas Miracle," Daph let out.

"I guess Santa really does know everything," Britt smiled at me behind the head desperately stroking itself to every inch of her face.

"She's got a new collar. It's an area code quite far away... Someone else must've taken her in." I felt like the Grinch. Britt didn't stop smiling though.

"I'm just so happy she's okay, though." Bernard wrapped an arm around my shoulder – it was like getting hugged by a bear.

"We'll call them first thing tomorrow. But now, let's enjoy this Christmas Eve together."

Britt took my hand, one arm still carrying the (much smaller) purring bundle of joy, and soon Bailey and Daphne were by my side as well, licking, jumping and hugging me all the same. Silke called from the kitchen to hurry up and get myself a cup of hot cocoa with marshmallows in, and Brittany almost ripped the coat from my shoulders, only to throw her own knitted sweater over my head.

Then she grabbed my hand, dragging me to the kitchens. I was laughing and smiling and feeling so different. I was home, with Brittany's hand in mine. This was Christmas.