Fic: You Think You Know (But You Haven't Got a Clue) (3/3)
After another speech about expressing themselves through music, Mr. Schue sent them home, and Brittany left immediately with Tina again. Santana looked for Quinn, but she was already shyly approaching Rachel, and Santana sighed. Puck was waggling his eyebrows at her, so she just picked up her things and left. What the fuck was Brittany’s problem?
She drove home, but she could hear Juan and Alex yelling at each other from outside, so she just got out of her car and started walking away from her house. Brittany was being ridiculous, and apparently she had Tina and Mike on her side, and Quinn was being ridiculous, and apparently she was in love with Rachel Berry, and Puck was being ridiculous, but he wasn’t in love with anyone except himself.
After about an hour, she found herself in front of Matt Rutherford’s house, and she shrugged and went up to the garage. Matt was good to talk to, because he rarely felt the need to say anything. He and Santana had been kind of friends since middle school, and everyone assumed they’d had sex, but Santana really just liked sitting in his garage with him and listening to music when everyone else was pissing her off. Sometimes, he tried to teach her his latest dance moves, but mostly they just sat together. It was a lot nicer than being alone, sometimes.
But when she got up to the garage, she heard he had company, because someone who was definitely not Matt Rutherford started practically yodeling, “Now somewhere in the black mining hills of Dakota, there lived a young boy named Rocky Racc-ooo-ooooon,” and Santana snorted.
She stepped into the doorway and found Matt and Mike sitting on the hood of Matt’s car, goofing off to the music. They took turns narrating the story of Rocky Raccoon, and they looked to be having such fun that Santana smiled in spite of herself. After Rocky was shot, Mike looked up and noticed her, beckoning her inside as he narrated, “Now the doctor came in, stinking of gin, and proceeded to lie on the table.” He gestured that it was her turn, so she gamely continued,
“He said, ‘Rocky, you’ve met your match.’ Rocky said, ‘Doc, it’s only a scratch. And I’ll be better-I’ll be better, doc, as soon as I am able.’”
The boys beamed at her, and Matt took the next part. They finished the song together, Santana and Mike taking the background vocals, and all three taking turns to push and bump each other, messing around like they were twelve again. “What brings you by, Santana?” Mike asked cheerfully.
“It’s loud at my house,” she shrugged, and Matt smiled at her.
No one said anything for a while, but suddenly Santana just snapped. “What’s the matter with Brittany?” she demanded, and Matt jumped, while Mike remained stoic.
“Maybe you should ask her.”
“Maybe she should talk to me instead of accusing me of going behind her back in front of the rest of the stupid glee club,” she said.
“We’ve all seen you talking to guys still, Santana,” Mike said, and Santana grabbed his collar.
“Just talking, right?” she said through clenched teeth, and Mike’s eyes widened.
“R-right,” he agreed hastily, and she realized she’d gone a little nuts and let him go.
“Ever hear anything I said?”
“N-no,” he admitted, looking to Matt for help. Santana snapped her head around to glare at him warningly. Matt wisely kept his mouth shut.
“Then, you have no evidence to support this accusation. In fact, it doesn’t sound like something Brittany would think up herself at all.”
“I care about her!” Mike yelped. “And Tina told me she caught you…making eyes at Puck in glee a few times, and you’re still surrounded by guys-and Puck is, uh, kind of obsessed with you-and it was really bumming Brittany out, so we just wanted to help!”
“I see,” Santana said evenly.
“Santana,” Matt said quietly, and Santana nearly jumped. “You ever told her how you feel? I mean. Really? Not like that song today.”
For a second, all Santana could do was gape. Matt had just said more words to her than he had in nearly six years of knowing him. “What was wrong with my song? I told her I wouldn’t let her leave me. I like her!”
“Well. Maybe you should, um. Tell her in a better way?” Mike offered, gulping.
“What, like some sappy, romantic way?” she asked, irritated.
“Yes,” Mike nodded, completely serious.
Santana scowled. Both boys unconsciously backed away, as though afraid she might set them on fire with that look. She kind of wished she could. “Girls like that sappy romantic stuff,” Mike ventured. “I mean. Don’t they?” He looked at Matt, but Matt just shrugged.
“You two are useless,” she sighed, and turned on her heel and left.
Even though she was in the driveway, she could hear two sighs of relief.
***
Thursday was painful. Mercedes and Kurt did a duet on “Let It Be,” and Mike and Matt proudly entertained the room by acting out “Rocky Raccoon,” after Artie and Finn did a rather good version of “Boys,” with Finn on the drums. But Brittany was still ignoring her. And Quinn was still ignoring her in favor of Rachel. Plus, Puck was still refusing to even want to ignore her. She was fed up.
She missed Brittany, and she just wanted everything to go back to normal. So she went home, ignored all three of her brothers, and shut herself up in her room. There was a song she had always wanted to sing to Brittany, but she’d never been sure she could. Now she was sure.
Once she had her part down, she grabbed her iPod and went over to Matt’s house. Luckily for her, Mike and Tina were there as well. “Perfect!” she greeted them, and they all turned frightened eyes toward her.
“You got me into this mess,” she said to Mike and Tina. “You’re helping me out of it. Yes?”
“Yes,” they agreed with no hesitation.
“Brittany’s r-really d-depressing when y-you’re not around,” Tina said, the stutter she didn’t have returning in the face of Santana’s wrath.
“And you’re really angry when Brittany’s not around,” Matt teased. “Well. Angrier.”
Instead of retorting, Santana just stared at him. Mike and Tina did too. “What?” he said, putting his hands up. “I do know how to speak, you know.”
***
“This is definitely sappy and romantic,” Mike grinned, after Santana had decided they were done rehearsing.
“Definitely,” Tina agreed. Santana didn’t even have the energy to scowl.
“T, you gonna sing tomorrow?” Mike asked, putting his arm around her. “You and Quinn are the only ones who haven’t.”
“Sure. I’ll be Santana’s opener,” she said, smiling, and Santana laughed.
“We really are sorry we fucked everything up for you,” Mike said earnestly.
“Yeah, well.” Santana shrugged. “Shit happens.”
Matt put his hand on her shoulder. “This was the song you always wanted to sing anyway. They gave you an excuse to sing it.”
“Okay. When did you get so wise? And when did you get so chatty?” Santana demanded.
Her friend grinned sheepishly. “Sometimes people who don’t talk much notice a lot. And then sometimes they need to share the things they notice.”
“Thanks, Rutherford,” she said roughly, but she was smiling, and he pulled her into a one-armed hug.
As she walked home that night, Quinn called her, and she was almost afraid to answer, but when the first thing out of her mouth wasn’t about Rachel, she figured everything would be fine. But the next thing out of her mouth, after, “Hey,” was “Are you and Brittany okay?” and Santana regretted even looking at her phone.
“What’s it to you, Fabray?”
“Well. You kind of helped me with Rachel, so…”
“You don’t need to return the favor. All I did was listen to you sing ‘Something’ three times anyway.”
“Well. It helped.”
“Well. You’re welcome.”
Quinn laughed, and Santana found herself liking the sound. “I have a plan, I think,” she admitted.
“Good!” Quinn said encouragingly. “Brittany’s really depressing lately.”
“And I’m angrier than usual, right?”
“Right.”
“Yeah, well.”
“You totally joined in on the third time,” Quinn said, out of nowhere, and Santana felt her ears get warm.
“Shut up.”
“You did,” Quinn taunted.
“Shut up, Fabray!”
Quinn giggled. “See you tomorrow, Santana.”
“Bye,” Santana said and slid her phone shut. Jesus. It wasn’t her fault she knew all the words to all the Beatles songs there were. “Something” was a good song, too.
***
The next morning, when Brittany got into her car, she looked hopeful instead of sad, and Santana smiled at her. “I’m gonna fix this,” she whispered, and Brittany’s eyes lit up.
“Promise?” she asked, and Santana nodded solemnly.
“Promise.”
She didn’t see Brittany for the rest of the day, which was just as well, because she was getting nervous. It was one thing to admit to Brittany how she really felt-why the hell had she decided to do it front of the glee club? At least they were still so low on the social ladder that there were only twelve of them. Plus, she had three of them backing her up. She’d be fine.
But when three o’clock rolled around, and she found herself, bizarrely enough, walking to the choir room with Rachel and Quinn, she realized her palms were sweating. “Relax, Santana,” Rachel advised. “You have a really good voice. Everything will be fine.”
“Thanks,” she said, hardly even realizing she’d just been civil to Rachel Berry.
She followed both girls inside and took a seat alone in the corner. This was going to require some serious psyching herself up, and she found that she was grateful that Tina was planning to sing something first. “All right! I believe we have heard from everyone this week, except Tina and Quinn. Ladies?” Mr. Schuester said brightly, looking for both of them.
“I’ve got something, Mr. Schue,” Tina said, stepping forward, and Mr. Schue smiled delightedly.
Tina did a sweet rendition of “And Your Bird Can Sing,” which was another of Brittany’s favorites, but Santana barely heard it. She was anxious. And the song was way too short. When Tina finished, everyone clapped, and Mike and Matt whistled, and then Tina turned and said something to Mr. Schue. “Oh! Of course. Santana, you have something else?” he asked, good-naturedly puzzled.
“Yeah,” she said, and then cleared her throat. “Yes,” she said, more firmly. There was no way she was going to show fear to any of these mouth-breathers. Especially not to Will Schuester.
“Take it away, then,” Mr. Schue said, and Santana stood up. Mike and Matt dutifully joined her and Tina.
“So. I’ve realized that maybe there are some things I should have said that I haven’t. Or that I didn’t say the right way,” she said, her eyes not quite meeting Brittany’s. “And…I’d like to say them now.” Inwardly, she cringed. She felt about as pathetic as Finn, who happened to be watching her with intense interest. Of course.
She nodded at the band, looked back at her support, all three of whom gave her a thumb up, and then she turned back to the rest of the club and began to sing.
You’ll never know how much I really love you
You’ll never know how much I really care
Santana still couldn’t look at Brittany, but she was aware that the blonde was paying perfect attention to her. Her palms still sweating, she moved through the rest of the song.
Listen
Do you want to know a secret?
Do you promise not to tell?
Closer
Let me whisper in your ear
Say the words you long to hear
I'm in love with you
Mike, Matt, and Tina behind her sounded great, and she knew she herself sounded great, and she couldn’t help the smile that started spreading across her lips.
Listen
Do you want to know a secret?
Do you promise not to tell?
Closer
Let me whisper in your ear
Say the words you long to hear
I’m in love with you
I’ve known the secret for a week or two
Nobody knows, just we two
Finally, she actually looked at Brittany, and that brilliant smile she missed so much was lighting up her girl’s face, and she knew this was all worth it. Flirtily, she beckoned to Brittany, whose smile only got impossibly wider.
Listen
Do you want to know a secret?
Do you promise not to tell?
Closer
Let me whisper in your ear
Santana moved close enough to actually whisper in Brittany’s ear, and they both shivered. “Say the words you long to hear,” she sang, more softly now, as she bent closer, and this time she actually did whisper, “I'm in love with you.”
***
It took a good ten seconds for her teammates’ applause to pull Santana out of her trance, but she finally moved away from Brittany and looked at everyone else. Mr. Schuester had fucking tears in his eyes again, and Santana almost wanted to hurl. But then she looked back at Brittany, and nothing else mattered.
Matt, Mike, and Tina crowded around her, and she thanked them, and she looked at Brittany again and carefully took the seat beside her. Brittany just went on smiling, and then she offered her pinky. Blushing and grinning and almost ready to cry, Santana laughed as everything that had been wrong with the past week disappeared. And she wrapped her own pinky around Brittany’s.
“All right!” she dimly heard Mr. Schue say. “Quinn, think you can top that?”
She drove home, but she could hear Juan and Alex yelling at each other from outside, so she just got out of her car and started walking away from her house. Brittany was being ridiculous, and apparently she had Tina and Mike on her side, and Quinn was being ridiculous, and apparently she was in love with Rachel Berry, and Puck was being ridiculous, but he wasn’t in love with anyone except himself.
After about an hour, she found herself in front of Matt Rutherford’s house, and she shrugged and went up to the garage. Matt was good to talk to, because he rarely felt the need to say anything. He and Santana had been kind of friends since middle school, and everyone assumed they’d had sex, but Santana really just liked sitting in his garage with him and listening to music when everyone else was pissing her off. Sometimes, he tried to teach her his latest dance moves, but mostly they just sat together. It was a lot nicer than being alone, sometimes.
But when she got up to the garage, she heard he had company, because someone who was definitely not Matt Rutherford started practically yodeling, “Now somewhere in the black mining hills of Dakota, there lived a young boy named Rocky Racc-ooo-ooooon,” and Santana snorted.
She stepped into the doorway and found Matt and Mike sitting on the hood of Matt’s car, goofing off to the music. They took turns narrating the story of Rocky Raccoon, and they looked to be having such fun that Santana smiled in spite of herself. After Rocky was shot, Mike looked up and noticed her, beckoning her inside as he narrated, “Now the doctor came in, stinking of gin, and proceeded to lie on the table.” He gestured that it was her turn, so she gamely continued,
“He said, ‘Rocky, you’ve met your match.’ Rocky said, ‘Doc, it’s only a scratch. And I’ll be better-I’ll be better, doc, as soon as I am able.’”
The boys beamed at her, and Matt took the next part. They finished the song together, Santana and Mike taking the background vocals, and all three taking turns to push and bump each other, messing around like they were twelve again. “What brings you by, Santana?” Mike asked cheerfully.
“It’s loud at my house,” she shrugged, and Matt smiled at her.
No one said anything for a while, but suddenly Santana just snapped. “What’s the matter with Brittany?” she demanded, and Matt jumped, while Mike remained stoic.
“Maybe you should ask her.”
“Maybe she should talk to me instead of accusing me of going behind her back in front of the rest of the stupid glee club,” she said.
“We’ve all seen you talking to guys still, Santana,” Mike said, and Santana grabbed his collar.
“Just talking, right?” she said through clenched teeth, and Mike’s eyes widened.
“R-right,” he agreed hastily, and she realized she’d gone a little nuts and let him go.
“Ever hear anything I said?”
“N-no,” he admitted, looking to Matt for help. Santana snapped her head around to glare at him warningly. Matt wisely kept his mouth shut.
“Then, you have no evidence to support this accusation. In fact, it doesn’t sound like something Brittany would think up herself at all.”
“I care about her!” Mike yelped. “And Tina told me she caught you…making eyes at Puck in glee a few times, and you’re still surrounded by guys-and Puck is, uh, kind of obsessed with you-and it was really bumming Brittany out, so we just wanted to help!”
“I see,” Santana said evenly.
“Santana,” Matt said quietly, and Santana nearly jumped. “You ever told her how you feel? I mean. Really? Not like that song today.”
For a second, all Santana could do was gape. Matt had just said more words to her than he had in nearly six years of knowing him. “What was wrong with my song? I told her I wouldn’t let her leave me. I like her!”
“Well. Maybe you should, um. Tell her in a better way?” Mike offered, gulping.
“What, like some sappy, romantic way?” she asked, irritated.
“Yes,” Mike nodded, completely serious.
Santana scowled. Both boys unconsciously backed away, as though afraid she might set them on fire with that look. She kind of wished she could. “Girls like that sappy romantic stuff,” Mike ventured. “I mean. Don’t they?” He looked at Matt, but Matt just shrugged.
“You two are useless,” she sighed, and turned on her heel and left.
Even though she was in the driveway, she could hear two sighs of relief.
***
Thursday was painful. Mercedes and Kurt did a duet on “Let It Be,” and Mike and Matt proudly entertained the room by acting out “Rocky Raccoon,” after Artie and Finn did a rather good version of “Boys,” with Finn on the drums. But Brittany was still ignoring her. And Quinn was still ignoring her in favor of Rachel. Plus, Puck was still refusing to even want to ignore her. She was fed up.
She missed Brittany, and she just wanted everything to go back to normal. So she went home, ignored all three of her brothers, and shut herself up in her room. There was a song she had always wanted to sing to Brittany, but she’d never been sure she could. Now she was sure.
Once she had her part down, she grabbed her iPod and went over to Matt’s house. Luckily for her, Mike and Tina were there as well. “Perfect!” she greeted them, and they all turned frightened eyes toward her.
“You got me into this mess,” she said to Mike and Tina. “You’re helping me out of it. Yes?”
“Yes,” they agreed with no hesitation.
“Brittany’s r-really d-depressing when y-you’re not around,” Tina said, the stutter she didn’t have returning in the face of Santana’s wrath.
“And you’re really angry when Brittany’s not around,” Matt teased. “Well. Angrier.”
Instead of retorting, Santana just stared at him. Mike and Tina did too. “What?” he said, putting his hands up. “I do know how to speak, you know.”
***
“This is definitely sappy and romantic,” Mike grinned, after Santana had decided they were done rehearsing.
“Definitely,” Tina agreed. Santana didn’t even have the energy to scowl.
“T, you gonna sing tomorrow?” Mike asked, putting his arm around her. “You and Quinn are the only ones who haven’t.”
“Sure. I’ll be Santana’s opener,” she said, smiling, and Santana laughed.
“We really are sorry we fucked everything up for you,” Mike said earnestly.
“Yeah, well.” Santana shrugged. “Shit happens.”
Matt put his hand on her shoulder. “This was the song you always wanted to sing anyway. They gave you an excuse to sing it.”
“Okay. When did you get so wise? And when did you get so chatty?” Santana demanded.
Her friend grinned sheepishly. “Sometimes people who don’t talk much notice a lot. And then sometimes they need to share the things they notice.”
“Thanks, Rutherford,” she said roughly, but she was smiling, and he pulled her into a one-armed hug.
As she walked home that night, Quinn called her, and she was almost afraid to answer, but when the first thing out of her mouth wasn’t about Rachel, she figured everything would be fine. But the next thing out of her mouth, after, “Hey,” was “Are you and Brittany okay?” and Santana regretted even looking at her phone.
“What’s it to you, Fabray?”
“Well. You kind of helped me with Rachel, so…”
“You don’t need to return the favor. All I did was listen to you sing ‘Something’ three times anyway.”
“Well. It helped.”
“Well. You’re welcome.”
Quinn laughed, and Santana found herself liking the sound. “I have a plan, I think,” she admitted.
“Good!” Quinn said encouragingly. “Brittany’s really depressing lately.”
“And I’m angrier than usual, right?”
“Right.”
“Yeah, well.”
“You totally joined in on the third time,” Quinn said, out of nowhere, and Santana felt her ears get warm.
“Shut up.”
“You did,” Quinn taunted.
“Shut up, Fabray!”
Quinn giggled. “See you tomorrow, Santana.”
“Bye,” Santana said and slid her phone shut. Jesus. It wasn’t her fault she knew all the words to all the Beatles songs there were. “Something” was a good song, too.
***
The next morning, when Brittany got into her car, she looked hopeful instead of sad, and Santana smiled at her. “I’m gonna fix this,” she whispered, and Brittany’s eyes lit up.
“Promise?” she asked, and Santana nodded solemnly.
“Promise.”
She didn’t see Brittany for the rest of the day, which was just as well, because she was getting nervous. It was one thing to admit to Brittany how she really felt-why the hell had she decided to do it front of the glee club? At least they were still so low on the social ladder that there were only twelve of them. Plus, she had three of them backing her up. She’d be fine.
But when three o’clock rolled around, and she found herself, bizarrely enough, walking to the choir room with Rachel and Quinn, she realized her palms were sweating. “Relax, Santana,” Rachel advised. “You have a really good voice. Everything will be fine.”
“Thanks,” she said, hardly even realizing she’d just been civil to Rachel Berry.
She followed both girls inside and took a seat alone in the corner. This was going to require some serious psyching herself up, and she found that she was grateful that Tina was planning to sing something first. “All right! I believe we have heard from everyone this week, except Tina and Quinn. Ladies?” Mr. Schuester said brightly, looking for both of them.
“I’ve got something, Mr. Schue,” Tina said, stepping forward, and Mr. Schue smiled delightedly.
Tina did a sweet rendition of “And Your Bird Can Sing,” which was another of Brittany’s favorites, but Santana barely heard it. She was anxious. And the song was way too short. When Tina finished, everyone clapped, and Mike and Matt whistled, and then Tina turned and said something to Mr. Schue. “Oh! Of course. Santana, you have something else?” he asked, good-naturedly puzzled.
“Yeah,” she said, and then cleared her throat. “Yes,” she said, more firmly. There was no way she was going to show fear to any of these mouth-breathers. Especially not to Will Schuester.
“Take it away, then,” Mr. Schue said, and Santana stood up. Mike and Matt dutifully joined her and Tina.
“So. I’ve realized that maybe there are some things I should have said that I haven’t. Or that I didn’t say the right way,” she said, her eyes not quite meeting Brittany’s. “And…I’d like to say them now.” Inwardly, she cringed. She felt about as pathetic as Finn, who happened to be watching her with intense interest. Of course.
She nodded at the band, looked back at her support, all three of whom gave her a thumb up, and then she turned back to the rest of the club and began to sing.
You’ll never know how much I really love you
You’ll never know how much I really care
Santana still couldn’t look at Brittany, but she was aware that the blonde was paying perfect attention to her. Her palms still sweating, she moved through the rest of the song.
Listen
Do you want to know a secret?
Do you promise not to tell?
Closer
Let me whisper in your ear
Say the words you long to hear
I'm in love with you
Mike, Matt, and Tina behind her sounded great, and she knew she herself sounded great, and she couldn’t help the smile that started spreading across her lips.
Listen
Do you want to know a secret?
Do you promise not to tell?
Closer
Let me whisper in your ear
Say the words you long to hear
I’m in love with you
I’ve known the secret for a week or two
Nobody knows, just we two
Finally, she actually looked at Brittany, and that brilliant smile she missed so much was lighting up her girl’s face, and she knew this was all worth it. Flirtily, she beckoned to Brittany, whose smile only got impossibly wider.
Listen
Do you want to know a secret?
Do you promise not to tell?
Closer
Let me whisper in your ear
Santana moved close enough to actually whisper in Brittany’s ear, and they both shivered. “Say the words you long to hear,” she sang, more softly now, as she bent closer, and this time she actually did whisper, “I'm in love with you.”
***
It took a good ten seconds for her teammates’ applause to pull Santana out of her trance, but she finally moved away from Brittany and looked at everyone else. Mr. Schuester had fucking tears in his eyes again, and Santana almost wanted to hurl. But then she looked back at Brittany, and nothing else mattered.
Matt, Mike, and Tina crowded around her, and she thanked them, and she looked at Brittany again and carefully took the seat beside her. Brittany just went on smiling, and then she offered her pinky. Blushing and grinning and almost ready to cry, Santana laughed as everything that had been wrong with the past week disappeared. And she wrapped her own pinky around Brittany’s.
“All right!” she dimly heard Mr. Schue say. “Quinn, think you can top that?”