This story is inspired by drawings by z-tagada on Tumblr and I have been working on it for a while. It's nowhere near finished, but I've got most of the plot lines clear for myself by now. I haven't been on in ages, but I'm trying to get back in my usual activity level. And how better than with a new story, right? kaithanxbai
mmh, no XD Eh... The title is the song Streetfighter (War) by Sick Puppies and I will most likely listen quite often to that song when I'm writing this. The story will feature lots of violence, there might be smut but I'm not sure about that yet, and other adult themes will be in it - because I turned eighteen last month and I can finally use them without feeling like I'm doing something wrong, booyah.
Chapter One: August 11th, 2017 | Present.
There is one thing you never should forget: Santana doesn't go down without a fight.
So when she was cornered by three tall guys in casual jeans and black hoodies on a scalding hot August day after she had been working out for three hours straight in the gym, she fought back.
"All alone here?"
The brunette turned around swiftly, ignoring the way her legs were about to burst from the intense work out session. Before she could look at the guys properly a fist connected with her jaw, a bullet of pain shooting through her cheek.
"What the hell. Get lost." she shrieked and cashed the next fist in her stomach.
She doubled over but was able to take in her setting. A shadowy alley, three tall guys blocking her way out and pushing her further in the corner, no other living soul anywhere to be seen.
Great.
The air got knocked out her lungs when a foot pushed against her ribcage, she collapsed against the wall but placed her hands flat against the bricks to keep her up.
Her head was swimming, the shock slowly flooding out of her system.
She blocked the next attack and punched the guy on the left as hard as she could, a moan escaping his lips as he recoiled a bit.
She got pinned against the wall, rough hands pressing on her shoulders. Another guy punched her everywhere: shins, hips, chest, face. She felt blood trickle over her skin and every bang reverberated through her entire body, shaking her from head to toe.
About a minute later she was thrown down like a ragdoll, her limbs sprawled on the ground. A heavy boot pressed on her spine.
For the first time since she was under attack a sound escaped her throat, a guttural growl laced with tiny yelps.
"Now you're not that snarky anymore, are you?" One of the guys hissed in her ear and clenched his hand in her hair to pull her up.
She spit in his face and kicked him against the ankle. It wasn't hard enough to break anything, but hard enough to knock him from his feet. She quickly scrambled to her feet, breathing heavily. Blood invaded her mouth, she coughed and felt the pain spread slowly to every nerve in her body.
A muscular arm wrapped around her neck, the other around her waist. A fist came into view, but she wasn't fast enough to dodge it. Knuckles hard as steel knocked the light out of her left eye, the lids immediately swelled and she had a hard time blinking.
"Let this be a warning." one of the guys hissed and pushed her against the wall. Hard. She closed her eyes, pursed her lips and without even a second thought slammed her head forward. The man crumpled to the ground, cradling his head in his hands.
She kicked against his shoulder so he fell down completely, and turned towards to other two. One of them threatened her with a knife, the tip of it already pressing in the flesh of her arm. She knocked the arm away, made the two of them stumble and kicked them a few times before she started to run.
Before she left the alley she grabbed the bag she had dropped when the guys attacked her and flung it over her sore shoulder.
She ran as fast as she could, her breathing difficult and painful, every spot of her body aching. While running she grabbed the white shirt she had used to work out in and ripped it in pieces, wrapping a piece of cotton around her bleeding knuckles.
When she was in her own neighborhood and very sure she was safe, she stopped for a minute to bend over, hands placed on her knees. Tears of rage, pain and humiliation spilled out of her eyes, the one so swollen she couldn't see the tiniest bit through it.
She wiped at her mouth, blood painting her skin red. "Shit. Britt is gonna flip again." She laughed hollowly. Even in situations like these, Brittany was the first thing she could think of.
*.*.*
Brittany stood in the kitchen, her hips pressed against the cool metal of the stove and head hovering above sizzling pans, while a chirpy Quinn was seated on the cold marble counter, swaying her legs back and forth and checking on her precious bacon. The two blondes were in a light conversation about the cartoons that were flashing by on their television screen.
"I still think Spongebob is as obnoxious as they come." Quinn mumbled, leaning on her elbow and sniffing. "Yum, bacon. Give me some, Brittz."
Brittany frowned and shifted her back towards the other blonde, shielding the pan with meat. "No, Q, you just insulted Spongebob."
"But we have a love-hate relationship!" she whined. She knew a lost battle when she saw on, so she straightened her back and slid of the counter. She took a stack of plates out of one of the cupboards and started to set the table.
Brittany stirred in the mashed potatoes and glanced out of the window. Darkness was already creeping into their city; the sky colored dark blue like ink. A heavy sigh tumbled from her lips.
A pair of arms wrapped around her waist and soft lips kissed her barely clad shoulder. "Don't worry, B, she'll be here any second." Brittany leaned into the embrace, savoring the warmth and smell of her best friend.
"I just wish she wouldn't exclude me from everything. It's been more than five years." she sighed, turning around in the hug to rest her head on Quinn's shoulder and nuzzle her nose against the pale, sensitive skin.
"Hey, my girlfriend!" Puck whined from the couch as he was absentmindedly flipping through the channels. He smirked in the two blonde's direction and punched Artie on the shoulder. The guy looked too, rolled his eyes and looked back down to his book.
Quinn giggled and released Brittany to walk over to her Mohawked boyfriend. "Need attention again?" The guy nodded, a cute pout on his lips. "Not going to get any. So, Artie, what're you reading?"
"Don't think so!" Puck grinned and pulled the blonde down in his lap, wrapping his arms around her waist immediately. Artie quickly moved from the couch to the dinner table and smiled toothily at Brittany. "They are such saps sometimes."
Brittany nodded and grinned. "Yeah, they are. But I love them nonetheless."
She did the final touches to the food while Artie silently read at the table. Quinn and Puck didn't leave the couch, but got company from Mike and Matt so they had to quit their activities.
Brittany was setting the table when footsteps sounded from the metal stairs outside. Six curious faces turned towards the door. Breathes hitched.
Santana walked through the door, head held high and spine straightened, but she had to clench her jaw not to cry out in pain. She passed them all and slammed the door of her bedroom closed before any of them had the chance to say something back.
The silence was painful.
*.*.*
Santana sat on the window-sill, legs resting against the cold bricks. Her thighs pressed against a bottle of vodka to keep it in place, a cigarette rested between her split lips, she absentmindedly played with the lighter.
The air got slowly painted black, the moon crept out of its hide-out and cast its light down on the city where everything was possible. Everything. Santana snorted and blew a mouth full of smoke in the stuffy August night air.
She took a swig from the vodka and pressed the burning end of her cigarette against the wall before tossing the butt down.
An all too familiar buzz started in her head and travelled all the way down, numbing her entire body. She took a few last sips before she got back inside, screwing the cap back on the bottle. She took everything but her black boxers off and flopped down on her bed.
She wrapped her arms around her sheets and sighed. She could hear the chatter on the other side of the door, Brittany's laugh cutting through her flesh more painfully then the beating up she had endured earlier that day.
Silent tears black from her mascara slipped down her cheeks and into her white sheets, leaving little black spots behind. She sniffed and turned around. Her eyes closed with much force, her swollen eye throbbed in objection.
She fell asleep a few minutes later, Brittany's laugh dancing through her head.
*.*.*
Brittany stood in the doorway, eyes narrowed, nostrils trembling as she was inhaling shakily. She felt tears well up at the sight of the brunette, so small and bare on the bed. Bruises, cuts, old scars and dried blood tainted her tan skin.
She moistened her dry lips and tiptoed further into the room. She carefully placed the first aid kit and the wet washcloth on the bed and sat down herself, her slender pale fingers rubbed over a spot of smooth skin.
"I just wish you would talk to me." the blonde sighed and started to clean up the wounds. She wrapped a few bandages about the more severe ones, put those boring brown bandages the others always used on her cheek, arm and fingers and small white ones at the burst of her eyebrow, also a few on her fingers and arm.
There was a small cut right above her breast, there where Brittany could feel her heart thudding. She placed her hand there, feeling the familiar hot skin and heartbeat against her palm. Her wrist touched Santana's breast, the brunette released a soft whimper.
She dug up one of the more colorful bandages, one Brittany would use for herself. A small smile tugged at her lip at the sight of the tough girl with a unicorn bandage on her chest.
"Please." A tear rolled over her cheek, she quickly wiped it away with the back of her hand. "I want the old Santana back."