Setting Rain on Fire 14.2/20
First, thanks for all your comments/reviews/criticisms/etc. I was going to wait a little bit before I wrote this update but after reading the reviews and etc I realized I needed you guys to read this ASAP. I wrote this really quickly, so there may be numerous errors. Sorry.
I hope you tell me what you think.
Chapter Fourteen [Part Two]: Take A Stand
“Don’t want to be spun around.”
Son of A Gun, Oh Land
“I need to tell you something.”
Kurt says it softly to me when I reach for another piece of Breadstix, my eyes still glued to the closed door of the bedroom. I feel worry bubbling incessantly in my body, and I have half a mind to stand up and find out what exactly Quinn is telling Brittany. It’s unnerving, not knowing.
“What?” I mutter back absently, nibbling on the edge of the long stick.
“Santana.” Kurt sighs. “I did a lot to help out this morning. I was at least hoping for your complete attention.”
I groan inwardly and turn my body towards him. “What?” I ask exasperatedly.
He tosses his head to the bathroom and stands. “Be right back.” He explains to Blaine, who’s wearing a confused look on his face.
I moan a Spanish expletive under my breath as I stand. I stretch slightly, before following Kurt into the bathroom.
“What is it?” I ask as I shut the door behind me. I lean against it wearily, my mind still stuck wondering what Quinn needed to tell Brittany so urgently. Why couldn’t it wait?
It’s dark, but I can see the outline of Kurt’s body in the dim light. For a moment he says nothing. “Santana,” He begins slowly, “you’ve been a fighter your whole life.”
I freeze, stunned. The surprise is enough to snap me out of my distraction. “What?” I hear myself ask in a confused voice.
I hear Kurt sigh softly. “You know I’m right.” He leans against the sink.
“So?” I ask, bewildered.
For a long moment he says nothing, until I start feeling impatient enough to leave. I have to check on Brittany, and make sure she’s alright.
“I think you and Brittany should join the fight against homophobia, Santana.”
My thoughts literally stop forming. I feel like every single cell in my body has temporarily ceased to function, rendering me incapable of doing anything for a split second.
“What the fuck?” I hear myself blurt out.
“Look, hear me out, alright?” He begs, holding his arms up. Without bothering to wait for an answer, he rushes on. “People need to know you’ve been through. Teenagers need to know what you’ve been through.”
“You’ve got to be shitting me.” I growl.
“Do you really think I’d shit you about something as serious as this?” He replies coolly. He heaves a huge sigh. “Look, Santana. I know you don’t like talking about your feelings. But hate crimes are getting really bad. Not just in this country, all over the world. We thought we were making progress, but it looks like we haven’t managed to strike the heart of the matter. Most people still don’t really understand us.” He shakes his head sadly. “And its high time people remembered that even if we’re members of the LGBTQI, we’re still primarily members of the human race.”
“And how are we supposed to fix that?” I snarl.
“You need to talk about it.” He halts. “Everything.”
“No fucking way.” I deadpan.
He sighs again. “I know I can’t even begin to imagine how difficult it will be for you. But you need to realize that by speaking up, you’re fighting not just for yourselves but for the millions of people out there who are like us. Especially all the teenagers, who are honestly having the hardest time right now.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? You want me to talk to kids?” I snap. “I’m not going to go parading around, telling people about what we’ve been through. There’s no way I’m going to open up to a bunch of strangers about how this feels, Kurt.” My nostrils flare. “I am not going to talk to a bunch of teenagers - children - about this. Jesus.”
“What you’ve been through has the potential to change lives, Santana.” I open my mouth to argue, but he continues on heatedly. “Look, you can change perspectives here. What you’ve been through can inspire people into understanding the LGBTQI community. You can save lives here, Santana. Because right now, the situation is so bad that gay kids can’t even accept themselves.”
I shake my head over and over. My body’s trembling. Kurt continues.
“Do you remember what it felt like as a teenager? The fear? The uncertainty? The damn confusion? These kids need someone to tell them it’s going to be alright.”
“Isn’t that contradictory?” I rebut angrily. “Here are the facts.” I hold up one finger. “I am a lesbian.” I hold up another. “Brittany is bisexual.” I hold up a third. “We’re legally married.” I hold up a forth. “We had a son.” I stick out the last finger. “Our son was killed.” I fold the five fingers in a fist. “To sum it up: I am a lesbian, Brittany’s bisexual, we’re married because we love each other, we decided to have a child because we wanted to start a family, and he was killed because of what we were. How can I tell teenagers that it’s going to be alright? How can I encourage them to be brave, come out and accept themselves if this is the sort of future they’re going to look forward to?”
Kurt inhales deeply and shuts his eyes, thinking. “Fine, let’s have it your way.” He whispers. In the darkness, I feel his piercing gaze on me. “Let’s say you never decided to sing Landslide to Brittany in Glee Club, that Mr. Shue never required us to go through that Rumours album. Let’s say you never came out of the closet. Let’s say you never found the courage to tell Brittany how you felt. That you never grew the spine to tell the love of your life,” He emphasizes the last words heavily, “the woman you are going to spend your life with,” He pauses, then accentuates, “your soulmate, that you loved her more than life. If you didn’t do the things you did, do you think your life would be worth living, the way it is now?
“And yes, you’ve lost a son. I know there is no pain in the world that can compare to that. But do you really, really think that that automatically makes everything you and Brittany built worthless? Does that cancel every good thing out? Do really believe that you’d prefer a life where you didn’t go through all those experiences that led to you having Nicholas? Do you?”
Kurt pauses his passionate speech, and inhales deeply before continuing,
“These kids need to know that it’s alright to be who they are, even if they will go through the most shitty of circumstances - such as you and Brittany are, right now. They need to be assured that they must stay true to themselves, even if the rest of the world were to trample on them and try to strip away the human being in them. They need to be made aware that, no matter what, it’s still right to be who they are.
“You say that this sort of future isn’t one that they should look forward to.” He continues, calm now. “And I agree with you. This life is more difficult than it should be.” He pauses. “But who do you think has the power to change that?” He lets the question hang in the air, unanswered.
Our eyes meet in the darkness, and he can see that he’s made his point.
“Think about it, Santana.”
He walks out the door, leaving me alone. In the silent darkness, the tears fall freely.
I hope you tell me what you think.
Chapter Fourteen [Part Two]: Take A Stand
“Don’t want to be spun around.”
Son of A Gun, Oh Land
“I need to tell you something.”
Kurt says it softly to me when I reach for another piece of Breadstix, my eyes still glued to the closed door of the bedroom. I feel worry bubbling incessantly in my body, and I have half a mind to stand up and find out what exactly Quinn is telling Brittany. It’s unnerving, not knowing.
“What?” I mutter back absently, nibbling on the edge of the long stick.
“Santana.” Kurt sighs. “I did a lot to help out this morning. I was at least hoping for your complete attention.”
I groan inwardly and turn my body towards him. “What?” I ask exasperatedly.
He tosses his head to the bathroom and stands. “Be right back.” He explains to Blaine, who’s wearing a confused look on his face.
I moan a Spanish expletive under my breath as I stand. I stretch slightly, before following Kurt into the bathroom.
“What is it?” I ask as I shut the door behind me. I lean against it wearily, my mind still stuck wondering what Quinn needed to tell Brittany so urgently. Why couldn’t it wait?
It’s dark, but I can see the outline of Kurt’s body in the dim light. For a moment he says nothing. “Santana,” He begins slowly, “you’ve been a fighter your whole life.”
I freeze, stunned. The surprise is enough to snap me out of my distraction. “What?” I hear myself ask in a confused voice.
I hear Kurt sigh softly. “You know I’m right.” He leans against the sink.
“So?” I ask, bewildered.
For a long moment he says nothing, until I start feeling impatient enough to leave. I have to check on Brittany, and make sure she’s alright.
“I think you and Brittany should join the fight against homophobia, Santana.”
My thoughts literally stop forming. I feel like every single cell in my body has temporarily ceased to function, rendering me incapable of doing anything for a split second.
“What the fuck?” I hear myself blurt out.
“Look, hear me out, alright?” He begs, holding his arms up. Without bothering to wait for an answer, he rushes on. “People need to know you’ve been through. Teenagers need to know what you’ve been through.”
“You’ve got to be shitting me.” I growl.
“Do you really think I’d shit you about something as serious as this?” He replies coolly. He heaves a huge sigh. “Look, Santana. I know you don’t like talking about your feelings. But hate crimes are getting really bad. Not just in this country, all over the world. We thought we were making progress, but it looks like we haven’t managed to strike the heart of the matter. Most people still don’t really understand us.” He shakes his head sadly. “And its high time people remembered that even if we’re members of the LGBTQI, we’re still primarily members of the human race.”
“And how are we supposed to fix that?” I snarl.
“You need to talk about it.” He halts. “Everything.”
“No fucking way.” I deadpan.
He sighs again. “I know I can’t even begin to imagine how difficult it will be for you. But you need to realize that by speaking up, you’re fighting not just for yourselves but for the millions of people out there who are like us. Especially all the teenagers, who are honestly having the hardest time right now.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? You want me to talk to kids?” I snap. “I’m not going to go parading around, telling people about what we’ve been through. There’s no way I’m going to open up to a bunch of strangers about how this feels, Kurt.” My nostrils flare. “I am not going to talk to a bunch of teenagers - children - about this. Jesus.”
“What you’ve been through has the potential to change lives, Santana.” I open my mouth to argue, but he continues on heatedly. “Look, you can change perspectives here. What you’ve been through can inspire people into understanding the LGBTQI community. You can save lives here, Santana. Because right now, the situation is so bad that gay kids can’t even accept themselves.”
I shake my head over and over. My body’s trembling. Kurt continues.
“Do you remember what it felt like as a teenager? The fear? The uncertainty? The damn confusion? These kids need someone to tell them it’s going to be alright.”
“Isn’t that contradictory?” I rebut angrily. “Here are the facts.” I hold up one finger. “I am a lesbian.” I hold up another. “Brittany is bisexual.” I hold up a third. “We’re legally married.” I hold up a forth. “We had a son.” I stick out the last finger. “Our son was killed.” I fold the five fingers in a fist. “To sum it up: I am a lesbian, Brittany’s bisexual, we’re married because we love each other, we decided to have a child because we wanted to start a family, and he was killed because of what we were. How can I tell teenagers that it’s going to be alright? How can I encourage them to be brave, come out and accept themselves if this is the sort of future they’re going to look forward to?”
Kurt inhales deeply and shuts his eyes, thinking. “Fine, let’s have it your way.” He whispers. In the darkness, I feel his piercing gaze on me. “Let’s say you never decided to sing Landslide to Brittany in Glee Club, that Mr. Shue never required us to go through that Rumours album. Let’s say you never came out of the closet. Let’s say you never found the courage to tell Brittany how you felt. That you never grew the spine to tell the love of your life,” He emphasizes the last words heavily, “the woman you are going to spend your life with,” He pauses, then accentuates, “your soulmate, that you loved her more than life. If you didn’t do the things you did, do you think your life would be worth living, the way it is now?
“And yes, you’ve lost a son. I know there is no pain in the world that can compare to that. But do you really, really think that that automatically makes everything you and Brittany built worthless? Does that cancel every good thing out? Do really believe that you’d prefer a life where you didn’t go through all those experiences that led to you having Nicholas? Do you?”
Kurt pauses his passionate speech, and inhales deeply before continuing,
“These kids need to know that it’s alright to be who they are, even if they will go through the most shitty of circumstances - such as you and Brittany are, right now. They need to be assured that they must stay true to themselves, even if the rest of the world were to trample on them and try to strip away the human being in them. They need to be made aware that, no matter what, it’s still right to be who they are.
“You say that this sort of future isn’t one that they should look forward to.” He continues, calm now. “And I agree with you. This life is more difficult than it should be.” He pauses. “But who do you think has the power to change that?” He lets the question hang in the air, unanswered.
Our eyes meet in the darkness, and he can see that he’s made his point.
“Think about it, Santana.”
He walks out the door, leaving me alone. In the silent darkness, the tears fall freely.