Summary: Brittany flew from the car and ran up the walk to get to the door. She turned the doorknob and her worry level spiked when it easy clicked open. She turned to Quinn who was right behind her.
Author's Note: This is something that may sound similar to another person's fiction on here, but, honest, I don't mean for it to look like I'm copying. Also, I apologize for my Spanish, I'm using Google.
Disclaimer: Still don't…
She hadn't shown up for school, which was weird. She rarely, if ever, missed classes. The entire Glee club waited for her to burst into the room at any given moment, claiming she had much better things to do and insult them.
But she never showed.
And it worried them all.
Most of all Brittany. She had a bad, naggy feeling in the pit of her stomach since yesterday and it only worsened when her girlfriend didn't come to their first class. She tried calling, but the Latina never picked up, her house or cell. Something was wrong, but she couldn't figure out what.
"Where is Santana?" Mercedes asked Brittany and Quinn, who looked at each other and shook their heads.
"I have no idea." Quinn said.
"She won't answer her phone." Brittany added, only prompting further anxiety about Santana's absence.
"Not even for you?" Puck asked. When Brittany nodded, he said, "Should we ditch Glee today and go to her house? I mean, if she's not answering her phone, something must be off."
"Normally I wouldn't condone such a thing as skipping out on a session of Glee club with the competition looming so close, but I am too concerned about Santana's whereabouts."
"So it's agreed? After sixth period, we meet in the front to drive to Satan's?" Kurt confirmed. The club nodded and went their separate ways.
Brittany was never so excited to have school be over for the day and practically ran to the parking lot to meet the others. They quickly showed up and got into Kurt, Quinn, and Mercedes' cars to follow Quinn to Lima Heights Adjacent. Once they got there, they noticed a few key things: no cars were there, it was absolutely dead quiet, and there were specks of blood on a patched up broken window.
Brittany flew from the car and ran up the walk to get to the door. She turned the doorknob and her worry level spiked when it easy clicked open. She turned to Quinn who was right behind her.
"I see it Britt, let's go, c'mon you guys." She called to the others. They walked into the house. It was dark. Not a light was turned on. Santana's phone, both the house and cell phone, were on the coffee table in front of the couch. A blood trail moved from the window to the kitchen.
They followed it to the sink where paper towels were bunched up, wet and dry, and covered in vibrant red. Another trail started and they, with Brittany leading, followed it into the back of the house, to Santana's room, out of Santana's room, to her parent's room, to their bathroom. There, they hit a closed door, the sound of a running shower behind it.
Quinn knocked on it. "San?" The water continued to run. She put her ear to the door. "Someone's in there. The water isn't hitting the tub." She told her friends. Brittany stepped forward and knocked.
"Sanny? San, it's me, can I come in?" No answer came back to her. "I'm coming in now. I'm opening the door." She turned the knob and pushed the door so that it could be fully open. The sight before her made her half sob.
The Latina teen sat in the shower, at the bottom of the tub, her knees pulled up to her chest. Her arms wrapped around her legs and her chin hovered over her knees. A scarlet hue was in water droplets on the side of the tub and on the tile wall. She was naked and pale.
"San…" Brittany's voice trailed off and she stepped forward. The teen had yet to acknowledge her. The blonde felt the water and immediately reached over to shut the water off. "San, it's freezing. What are you doing?" Santana didn't say a word, didn't stop looked straight ahead, didn't unfold her arms, or move at all.
Brittany looked back at the club, worry flitting across her features. The club looked exactly the same. The dancer turned back around to look at her girlfriend. "Santana, where are your parents?" The Latina's eyes flickered at the mention of her parents. She slowly turned her head to glance at the person next to her.
"Britt…" She whispered, squinting a little bit.
"Yeah, it's me, and Glee too. We were worried when you didn't come to school today." She reached out and pet her girlfriend's dark, damp hair. "Why didn't you come?"
"My…my parents…" Her voice croaked.
"What about them?" Brittany asked gently, still petting her.
"…the police came last night…I was…about to go to b-bed and they knocked…They told me...th-they said…"
"What did they say San?" Tears fell out of Santana's eyes. This startled all in the room. Santana didn't cry, it's not like she couldn't, she just didn't. "San?" Brittany asked when Santana refused to continue.
"Mami and Papi are dead!" She sobbed, ducking her head into her arms to hide her face. "Their plane…c-crashed down before it got to…to Puerto Rico. They were…g-going to visit…my Abuela…" There was a collective gasp and Brittany lurched toward the crying girl to pull her into her embrace, not caring about getting wet.
"Oh my god, San-"
"I had to…to call Abuela and…and tell her, tell her that her only daughter was, was dead and that, that their plane went down and, and, and-" Her voice hitched as her sobs became more apparent. The club was stunned speechless. This girl just lost both parents, her only family in the United States.
"And what Sanny?" Brittany asked, pulling the girl out of the tub into her lap. Quinn walked up suddenly with a purple towel in hand and draped it over her friends shivering, shaking form.
"And she wailed, just mantuvollorandoy no había nadaque pudiera hacer...Sólo podía, sólo escucharsu grito." Santana cried, switching to her native tongue, something she only did when she was distressed.
"You know I can't understand when you speak Spanish, San." She told her.
"She said that her Grandmother cried and she couldn't do anything, but listen to her cry." Rachel helped translate. Brittany flashed her a thankful smile.
"They left me all solo! How could they? I los necesitan still, I'm only a adolescente." Santana sobbed, her fingers gripped Brittany's shirt, turning her fingers an unnatural white color. The tall blonde held Santana close and rocked them back and forth, quietly shushing her to try and sooth her.
"Britt," Quinn quietly called. The dancer looked over to her blonde friend and saw Quinn mentioning to her hand and then pointing to Santana. Brittany looked at Santana's hand and saw blood slowly seeping from deep cuts going vertically up the back of her hand.
"San, Sanny, sweetie," hearing Brittany calling Santana by a pet name was surprising, but they showed nothing, not wanting to upset the teenager anymore. "What happened to your hand?"
Santana was quiet for a few moments before looking at her hand, almost amazed. "Oh, yeah...I was...angry...I punched the window." She sniffled before curling into Brittany.
"Why didn't you call me?"
"It was late. I didn't want to wake you." She murmured, now calming down. Brittany reached down and cupped her tan cheek and brought her face up, resting her forehead on the other girl's forehead.
"You can always wake me. Especially for something like this. Do you understand me?" Santana nodded and moved her head to bury it in Brittany's chest. "I'm here, San, I'm here."
It was silent for a long time, everyone still stood in their places, when Santana spoke again, in a low whisper. "Where am I gunna go?"
"What do you mean?" Brittany asked, her brows knitting together.
"The rest my family, my Aunts, Uncles, Grandparents, Cousins, all in Puerto Rico. I might have to go back there, or…go into the foster system. I mean…I'm an orphan." The word hung in the air; no one was willing to pick it up. It was true, she was an orphan, her parents were dead, all her family was in a different country, where was she to go?
"I don't know. Maybe Mom would let you stay with us." Brittany offered.
"Britt…" Santana's voice held a knowing tone. The Pierce family was having enough money troubles as it was, with her Mom losing her job, her Dad taking on two jobs to make up for the lost money, to take in an emotionally damaged teenager? Just wasn't an option.
"I know, but-"
"I'll call my Mom," Quinn interjected. "She has to say yes."
"If she says no, you can stay with me," Puck said. "Mom and Sarah love you, so it'll be no problem."
"I'd offer, but…" Sam shrugged.
"I have room," Mercedes said.
"You could stay in my room," Kurt waved a hand. "Mom and Dad would love to help, right Finn?" The tall boy nodded, a smile on his face.
"I have bunk beds," Tina told her. "I'm sure my Dad wouldn't mind."
"My Dads would love to have someone else to take care of. They often feel like I need a sibling too. We have a spacious guest room, consider it yours." Rachel smiled.
At all the offers she was getting, Santana teared up again. A small smile appeared on her face. "Thank you." She said in a breath. "So much."
Brittany hugged her close again.
She may now be an orphan, she may be house hopped until she's eighteen, she may have ten million more physiological issues to deal with, but she had a new family. The Family she chose. The Family who chose her. The Family who were willing to let her crash in their houses when she had no where else to go.
That made this whole thing bearable.
mantuvollorandoy no había nadaque pudiera hacer...Sólo podía, sólo escucharsu grito.
kept crying and there was nothing I could do...I could only, only listen to her cry.