Glee: Anything Else [1/1] Brittany, Puck (Brittany/Santana)
Title: Anything Else
Author: Diamondinsanity
Characters / Pairings: Brittany, Puck | Brittany/Santana (implied Puck/Rachel)
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1274
Spoilers: None.
Timeline: implied Future!fic (no set time though)
Summary: Santana did everything, and without her, Brittany doesn’t know how to do anything.
Notes: Written for the following prompt at glee_angst_meme: Santana/Brittany. Santana's death and Brittany being so used to having Santana there to protect her from the world that she doesn't know how to deal with it and falls apart and/or stops trusting people entirely.
Notes 2: Also being used as Number 70: Protection at lover100. Table is here if you're curious.
The day Santana dies is the same day the colors fade from the world. When she sees a stray dog on the street, she doesn’t have the desire to pick it up and take it home with her like she would have had Santana been there. Rainbows don’t seem to have the appeal that they used to, and even her fluffiest blanket and her largest stuffed animal don’t make her feel any better. Everything feels numb, and she doesn’t know what to do any more. She doesn’t sleep for forty-eight hours. It isn’t like she knows how to sleep without Santana’s body next to hers any more.
When the first late notice for the rent comes, she doesn’t know what to do. She’s never paid rent before. That was always Santana’s job. And when the electricity and cable are shut off, she doesn’t know what to do either. That, too, was Santana’s responsibility and Brittany finds herself at a loss. She’s sure that they have a bank account somewhere, but Brittany couldn’t tell you for the life of her what bank their account was at, or any of their banking information. Santana had always told her not to worry about it, so she didn’t give it a second thought. After all, Santana always liked taking care of her so it wasn’t like Brittany was ever going to tell her to stop. But as she sits in a darkened apartment with little food, and a pretty good idea that her bird and her three dogs are dead because they’re hungry, too, she still doesn’t know what to do. So she just cries.
The phone calls are nothing new. They’ve been coming since Santana died.
Puck. Quinn. Finn. Rachel. Puck. Kurt. Mr. Schue. Tina. Puck. Quinn. Rachel. Tina. Finn. Quinn. Puck. Quinn. Kurt. Mr. Schue. Puck. Quinn.
She knows they’re worrying about her. Sometimes she even listens to the voicemails, but they don’t matter to her any more. All she wants is Santana. She was the one who always made everything better before; the one who always fixed everything and cleaned up her messes. A part of her is still hoping that this is just a mean joke that they’re playing on her, and Santana is really alive. She is going to walk through the door and the lights will turn back on, and color will come back into her world.
Instead the colors grow duller and sound begins to fade away.
When she gets the first eviction notice, she doesn’t know what it means. Nor does she know what the second eviction notice means or the final eviction notice. It’s all completely nonsense to her, and she doesn’t care really. She just curls up in bed, wearing Santana’s clothes, and hugging her pillow to her chest unable to figure out why Santana’s scent is fading away when she needs it the most. She honestly doesn’t know what to do without her. How is she supposed to breathe when her whole reason for making it this far in life is gone?
The phone calls start coming more frequently.
Puck. Quinn. Kurt. Puck. Rachel. Tina. Finn. Quinn. Puck. Rachel. Kurt. Finn. Tina. Puck. Quinn. Rachel. Quinn. Puck. Puck. Puck.
Her cell phone is finally turned off by the company for not paying the bill- another thing Santana always did.
Eviction day comes and she’s sitting in the apartment eating crackers, and wondering why there’s pounding on her door when all she wants to do is cry and wish for Santana to come back.
The door goes flying off its hinges and the landlord is standing there, along with a cop, and Puck. And they’re talking to her, but she has no idea what they’re saying. When was the last time that she talked to someone? She couldn’t remember.
She blinks as Puck is suddenly at her side, and is talking at her and she honestly has no idea what he is talking to her about. The words Emergency Contact break through though, and she vaguely remembers laughing when Santana wrote his name down on the form the apartment complex made them fill out when they signed the lease. She didn’t know what that really meant or entailed when she signed the form, but seeing Puck makes things a little better. After all, he was a constant pillar in Santana’s life, which meant he’d been a constant factor in Brittany’s life, too. That and he always reminded her of Santana a little bit: he was her male counterpart.
“I don’t know where Santana keeps the money.”
And she’s surprised for a minute because she didn’t realize she was saying anything out loud until Puck is suddenly gone and talking to the landlord and the cop. Then, he’s back, and they’re alone, and he’s throwing some of her clothing into a bag.
“I can’t leave Santana’s things.”
And hearing herself talking is still strange, and she’s honestly surprised she remembers how. When was the last time she spoke? How long had she been in here only eating crackers and twinkies because that was all that was left to eat?
He ignores her though, and Brittany finds herself wondering if maybe she hadn’t spoken out loud after all.
And a stuffed animal is being placed into her arms, and she’s being thrown over his shoulder and she wants to fight him off. She wants to scream at him that she can’t leave because she’s hoping Santana will come back and take care of her. But she doesn’t. She only manages out a feeble, “I want her to come home.”
Puck doesn’t say anything in response.
She’s lying in his bed, the stuffed animal pressed to her chest as she stares at him through the open door as he lies on the couch. With all her might, she wills him to turn into Santana, but he doesn’t. And she doesn’t even know why she’s here or why he’s helping her. He was always Santana’s ex-boyfriend, and Santana’s best friend; not hers. And she doesn’t like that his bed smells more like Rachel than him. His scent reminded her of Santana, mostly because sometimes Santana would come home smelling like Puck, but that was okay because it was just Puck. So, she really didn’t like that the bed didn’t really smell like him just like she didn’t like the look Rachel gave them when they came in the door. She does like that Rachel left though.
She was afraid Rachel was going to start singing, and Brittany knows she wouldn’t have been able to handle that.
Music isn’t the same any more. Every song turns into Santana’s voice. And her voice is everywhere. It’s the only sound that never faded away.
“Why?”
Her voice is a soft whisper, but she knows he can hear her. The apartment is so small it’s more a studio than a one-bedroom.
“I promised Santana that I’d take care of you if anything ever happened to her.”
And for some reason that’s enough for Brittany because it means that in an offhanded way Santana is still taking care of her. She pulls the stuffed animal closer to her chest, and for the first time since Santana died she feels like she can sleep. Her face is buried into Puck’s pillow and she’s half-asleep when she finds herself whispering out: “Santana never let me sleep alone.”
He’s there, then, his arms wrapped tightly around her and she’s crying. But it’s okay now because even after death, Santana’s still making sure she’s being taken care of.
And that makes her feel better more than anything else in the world.
Author: Diamondinsanity
Characters / Pairings: Brittany, Puck | Brittany/Santana (implied Puck/Rachel)
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1274
Spoilers: None.
Timeline: implied Future!fic (no set time though)
Summary: Santana did everything, and without her, Brittany doesn’t know how to do anything.
Notes: Written for the following prompt at glee_angst_meme: Santana/Brittany. Santana's death and Brittany being so used to having Santana there to protect her from the world that she doesn't know how to deal with it and falls apart and/or stops trusting people entirely.
Notes 2: Also being used as Number 70: Protection at lover100. Table is here if you're curious.
The day Santana dies is the same day the colors fade from the world. When she sees a stray dog on the street, she doesn’t have the desire to pick it up and take it home with her like she would have had Santana been there. Rainbows don’t seem to have the appeal that they used to, and even her fluffiest blanket and her largest stuffed animal don’t make her feel any better. Everything feels numb, and she doesn’t know what to do any more. She doesn’t sleep for forty-eight hours. It isn’t like she knows how to sleep without Santana’s body next to hers any more.
When the first late notice for the rent comes, she doesn’t know what to do. She’s never paid rent before. That was always Santana’s job. And when the electricity and cable are shut off, she doesn’t know what to do either. That, too, was Santana’s responsibility and Brittany finds herself at a loss. She’s sure that they have a bank account somewhere, but Brittany couldn’t tell you for the life of her what bank their account was at, or any of their banking information. Santana had always told her not to worry about it, so she didn’t give it a second thought. After all, Santana always liked taking care of her so it wasn’t like Brittany was ever going to tell her to stop. But as she sits in a darkened apartment with little food, and a pretty good idea that her bird and her three dogs are dead because they’re hungry, too, she still doesn’t know what to do. So she just cries.
The phone calls are nothing new. They’ve been coming since Santana died.
Puck. Quinn. Finn. Rachel. Puck. Kurt. Mr. Schue. Tina. Puck. Quinn. Rachel. Tina. Finn. Quinn. Puck. Quinn. Kurt. Mr. Schue. Puck. Quinn.
She knows they’re worrying about her. Sometimes she even listens to the voicemails, but they don’t matter to her any more. All she wants is Santana. She was the one who always made everything better before; the one who always fixed everything and cleaned up her messes. A part of her is still hoping that this is just a mean joke that they’re playing on her, and Santana is really alive. She is going to walk through the door and the lights will turn back on, and color will come back into her world.
Instead the colors grow duller and sound begins to fade away.
When she gets the first eviction notice, she doesn’t know what it means. Nor does she know what the second eviction notice means or the final eviction notice. It’s all completely nonsense to her, and she doesn’t care really. She just curls up in bed, wearing Santana’s clothes, and hugging her pillow to her chest unable to figure out why Santana’s scent is fading away when she needs it the most. She honestly doesn’t know what to do without her. How is she supposed to breathe when her whole reason for making it this far in life is gone?
The phone calls start coming more frequently.
Puck. Quinn. Kurt. Puck. Rachel. Tina. Finn. Quinn. Puck. Rachel. Kurt. Finn. Tina. Puck. Quinn. Rachel. Quinn. Puck. Puck. Puck.
Her cell phone is finally turned off by the company for not paying the bill- another thing Santana always did.
Eviction day comes and she’s sitting in the apartment eating crackers, and wondering why there’s pounding on her door when all she wants to do is cry and wish for Santana to come back.
The door goes flying off its hinges and the landlord is standing there, along with a cop, and Puck. And they’re talking to her, but she has no idea what they’re saying. When was the last time that she talked to someone? She couldn’t remember.
She blinks as Puck is suddenly at her side, and is talking at her and she honestly has no idea what he is talking to her about. The words Emergency Contact break through though, and she vaguely remembers laughing when Santana wrote his name down on the form the apartment complex made them fill out when they signed the lease. She didn’t know what that really meant or entailed when she signed the form, but seeing Puck makes things a little better. After all, he was a constant pillar in Santana’s life, which meant he’d been a constant factor in Brittany’s life, too. That and he always reminded her of Santana a little bit: he was her male counterpart.
“I don’t know where Santana keeps the money.”
And she’s surprised for a minute because she didn’t realize she was saying anything out loud until Puck is suddenly gone and talking to the landlord and the cop. Then, he’s back, and they’re alone, and he’s throwing some of her clothing into a bag.
“I can’t leave Santana’s things.”
And hearing herself talking is still strange, and she’s honestly surprised she remembers how. When was the last time she spoke? How long had she been in here only eating crackers and twinkies because that was all that was left to eat?
He ignores her though, and Brittany finds herself wondering if maybe she hadn’t spoken out loud after all.
And a stuffed animal is being placed into her arms, and she’s being thrown over his shoulder and she wants to fight him off. She wants to scream at him that she can’t leave because she’s hoping Santana will come back and take care of her. But she doesn’t. She only manages out a feeble, “I want her to come home.”
Puck doesn’t say anything in response.
She’s lying in his bed, the stuffed animal pressed to her chest as she stares at him through the open door as he lies on the couch. With all her might, she wills him to turn into Santana, but he doesn’t. And she doesn’t even know why she’s here or why he’s helping her. He was always Santana’s ex-boyfriend, and Santana’s best friend; not hers. And she doesn’t like that his bed smells more like Rachel than him. His scent reminded her of Santana, mostly because sometimes Santana would come home smelling like Puck, but that was okay because it was just Puck. So, she really didn’t like that the bed didn’t really smell like him just like she didn’t like the look Rachel gave them when they came in the door. She does like that Rachel left though.
She was afraid Rachel was going to start singing, and Brittany knows she wouldn’t have been able to handle that.
Music isn’t the same any more. Every song turns into Santana’s voice. And her voice is everywhere. It’s the only sound that never faded away.
“Why?”
Her voice is a soft whisper, but she knows he can hear her. The apartment is so small it’s more a studio than a one-bedroom.
“I promised Santana that I’d take care of you if anything ever happened to her.”
And for some reason that’s enough for Brittany because it means that in an offhanded way Santana is still taking care of her. She pulls the stuffed animal closer to her chest, and for the first time since Santana died she feels like she can sleep. Her face is buried into Puck’s pillow and she’s half-asleep when she finds herself whispering out: “Santana never let me sleep alone.”
He’s there, then, his arms wrapped tightly around her and she’s crying. But it’s okay now because even after death, Santana’s still making sure she’s being taken care of.
And that makes her feel better more than anything else in the world.