Disclaimer: I don't own Glee. Though I wish I could write a script on it. Wishful thinking I know. :P
Author's Notes: I am beta-less (currently looking for one though), so any mistakes found here are totally mine and I admit I kind of rush the last part since I have exams to study for tomorrow. LOL.
Epilogue: When the Songbird falls
I admit the smell of blood all around me never really bothers me nor the smell of gun powder or burning flesh. I mean come on, when your mother's night job is building explosives out of scraps and sniffing cocaine like it's the best thing in the whole world but never gives a shit about you. Heck, she never once did act like a proper mother ever since apparently she's one of the best at that kind of shit last I heard, cool and collected but deep inside a monster. My dad's on the other hand is a somewhat always drunken happy go lucky guy who drinks a lot and never hesitates to treat people like a piñata with his riffle gun or his occasional fire torch. Unlike my mother, he's the cold blooded person who enjoys torturing people with a smile on his face and the occasional creepy laugh. A monster.
Between these two people I was the drunken mistake that happened one forsaken night and with that mistake my so called father who was supposed to kill my pregnant mother whose carrying me at that time was forced into marrying her instead by my abuelo.
Being the bastard he really is, my parents blamed me for being born, they told me I was no worse than a begging dog since I'm not wanted and the only true reason I was alive was because of my abuelo. Being a child, I never questioned the logic behind it but since I was especially a child I was defenseless against my father's constant abuse.
However the abuse stemmed from the anger from not being the supposedly be next heir to the infamous mafia group my abuelo is running and guess what? My abuelo apparently lost trust in him for a long time ago plus my abuelo also inherited the so called family business that started way back I don't know when from his grandfather. In a way, me and my abuelo had a bitter sweet relationship but compared to my parents, he stood as more as my parent than my real parents even though it's fucked up.
Every other day, me and my abuelo would hang out, talk about things going around and sometimes he even lets me watch shows most parental figures would readily disagree showing to a six years old. If all the other kids are watching some kiddy show in Disney Channel, I was watching home videos from my abuelo's vast collection of cops vs. mafia and let me tell you, those include a lot of gory scenes no kid is usually allowed to watch. Little do I know, he was actually brainwashing me but in his dictionary, training me to be the next generation boss of the crew. I was just fucking six years old! Who even does that to a kid?
You know what they say, business is business and there's no fucking up in a mafia's business, the dirtier the better plan, the bigger the investment the better, and most importantly no one notices. These words rang true to my abuelo and to him, my papi is way too simple minded to lead this kind of business since he always fucks it up.
Why he calls running a group of mobsters and conmen a family business, I have no idea. But what the hell, it's his anyways and at that time I really thought he would really give it to my dad since I was just a kid.
Fate must've hated me when I snuck up to one of their meetings at the age of ten in one of the many warehouses the family owns. At that time my father slowly building but unsuccessfully was trying to get back into my abuelo's good graces but my dad is putting up a shitty job since the crew were arguing about some take over happening that I don't really quite get but who cares?
I was bored out of my mind and would rather prefer hearing my abuelo messed up stories about his younger days when he in his opinion was at his prime did all kinds of shit. Personally, I don't even know if it's true or not, I just think that he has a funny sense of humour when it comes to planning and making people he despise miserable. That, and the occasional swift knife techniques he's been showing me is pretty cool. He even gave me my own set to practice on with the wedge of the knife slightly blunt but not enough to protect my skin when I accidentally swing it the wrong way.
Anyways, back to the arguing part. I admit I'm kind of curious what they were talking about so I got a little closer. My abuelo was just staring unconcernedly at the people around him but when he caught sight of me lurking just around the corner he just said one word and the whole room just quieted down and look at him with a scared look in their eyes. He wasn't even shouting!
Silence!
When the patrons of the meeting settled down and realized at what or rather who my abuelo was looking at they were also stunned that I was there. But I didn't really care much for them. Heck, even my own father who was present in the meeting was obviously glaring at me with a dumb but angry expression but I didn't care. What I care about is the slight annoyed and slightly inquisitive look my abuelo was giving me.
So I told him the truth. I told him and to all the people gathered in the room that I wanted to play 'Mobsters', a game my abuelo insisted we play that combines the rules of the game Hide and Seek, the occasional MarcoPolo, a water gun, water balloons and a vast space with lots and lots of narrow spaces to crawl and hide into. Funny that I didn't realize sooner that it was one of his sneaky little training sessions to make me the perfect heir to inherit the family business.
My abuelo beckoned me towards them, and told me we can go after they settled the little problem they were having. Being a child who was totally bored out of her mind, I didn't like that one bit so I semi threw a tantrum, saying that it wasn't fair and all the bullshit a child does whenever he or she doesn't get what they want. What can I say? I was just ten at that time.
To the utter amazement of the others apparently, my abuelo smirked at me. Then asked me teasingly what will I do if three different people, two of them knew each other the other has only has thoughts to beat me up. I scrunched up my eyebrows at him thinking it must've be one of his mind games again but honestly it was kind of easy this time. I look up the ceiling, a bad habit of mine when thinking deeply, before saying what comes in my mind.
Make the third person your ally at first with the promise of momentary submission, this in turn will decrease the attacking force by a third and increase the crew's defense's by half and deceive the other two into turning their backs into each other since it's such a waste of resources and arms in investing in starting a turf war. When that's all done and over with, go show the third crew who's really dominating by taking over their turf instead.
As a child, my abuelo practically raised me and taught me all the stuff about the people around you since my own mother cares more about her drugs than me and my dad is too busy with his other women. You don't trust people but you do need them because in any situation involving my family business, my abuelo always said the phrase, the more the merrier. But he also warned me to always never turn your back to anybody especially to family. Hmm, I guess that's why he and papi always argue about almost everything.
Voices suddenly erupted after I said my answer leaving me pretty confuse and my abuelo annoyed as hell that he took his .45 calibre dessert eagle gun and shot the guy that most likely was the most loudest among the bunch.
He then asked them in a normal tone of voice if there was any problem but no one seems to talk anymore. Well except my dad who slowly stood up and looked directly at my abuelo.
He told him that the plan is preposterous and questioned as to why my abuelo is asking a ten year old kid about their apparent dilemma without plausible evidence that it's even doable which my abuelo just scoffed off haughtily.
My abuelo asked him then why didn't he suggest a better plan if that was the case and reminded him that I was still my papi's daughter even if I was born out from a one night stand mistake and no amount of women who he has fucked can change that. After that, papi just shut up for the remainder of the meeting where they polished the so called plan that I didn't even knew I suggested.
It only took over a month, expand the family relations bonded by supposedly drug shipment contracts and investment share contracts, destroy two leading gangs, take over the last of the opposing gangs which ironically enough was the family crew which my abuelo's crew signed contracts with, plus my first ever kill.
My parents who're present there didn't gave a fuck when my abuelo handed me his own gun and instructed me to kill the head of the leading gang who was previously have been already shot by my own abuelo on the leg and was now laying on the floor, paralyzed. His exact words were, 'Prove yourself to me now, mija.'
So I did. It wasn't my first time holding a gun but it was my first time holding it without the safety on. I didn't even know how to hold it properly and just tried to imitate the ones I've seen on tv. I look at the man one more time and without even the thought of remorse, I took shot at point blank range on his chest.
To say the recoil of the gun didn't startled me was a total and undeniably lie. It hurt like hell when your arms flew back with the recoil making me fall on my butt. But most of all, it hurt like hell to see my abuelo gave me that sadistic shit eating smile of his that he only uses whenever he gets what he wants.
It always scares the shit out of me. The worst part is, it still hunted me until today.
After that event, my abuelo changed completely. He completely stripped off our playtime sessions and started giving me all this private lessons about shooting a gun, doing close combat training, proper socializing skills among high class thieves and hunting. Not just any hunting lessons where you learn to kill small animals with the occasional deer. No, it's countless of lessons of hunting different kinds of people in order to get what you want out of them and almost all the end results are the same. I repeat, people, as in walking, breathing and thinking human beings! Someone always has to die, and clearly I don't want to be that person to be me.
Along those private lessons, my abuelo insisted on bringing me everywhere he goes. To boring meetings that always ended up having to bribe or beat someone up. To the interrogation room where I even witnessed my abuelo beat up countless of corrupted cops and other people who owes him favours. And to the occasional killing spree where my abuelo suggested that I and a small group of the group go and take down completely a new group of gangs because they were annoying the hell out of my abuelo.
But I didn't cared, as long as it got me out of my own house where my mother didn't even cared to hide herself anymore when sniffing her drugs or my own father coming home smelling like sex and alcohol, frustrated he wouldn't be able to beat the hell out of me anymore and just settled for my half incapacitated mom instead.
In a way, I knew they hated me. Hated me for being the one that my abuelo choose as the next heir of the family business. Hated me for being a drunken mistake from a supposedly one night stand from some kind of motel that they cannot even remember what place it was called. Hated me for being their unwanted responsibility. They just hated me for living I guess. I didn't even know my own birthday not since my abuelo gave me my first pellet gun with matching mafia outfit and explained to me what are birthdays are for. Some parents huh?
My abuelo was my saviour. My rock. My everlasting glue that binds me to holding myself together. And I'm grateful even if sometimes I found myself scared shitless because of the things he's done to people. I mean who wouldn't love the guy? He taught me everything. He was my everything even though the things he's been teaching me is basically are skills for a killer but for me at least he taught me how to survive.
But as I said, Fate never liked me to begin with and as usual my abuelo was right. He was right to never trust anybody, especially the ones closest to you and that includes family.
It was one of the coldest winter nights ever to hit New York. I was with my abuelo as usual, having late night shooting practices yet again. It was supposed to be one of those peaceful nights where the only thing you could hear was your gunshots firing at a moving mass of meat hanged from somewhere along the ceiling and the occasional comments from my abuelo. It was all great.
Then it all went downhill when my papi went through that door with a crowd of people behind him. He was carrying his gun and smirking at us as if he knew what's going to happen next.
My abuelo pushed me aside behind one of those large crates for protection as my papi pulled the trigger and shot my abuelo through the chest. My heart literally stopped at that moment. My rock, my glue that held me together for so long, my saviour was shot through and through and was instantly bleeding out on the floor. I didn't even realize that the strangled shouting was mine.
I watched as my abuelo's body fall very slowly to the ground, blood spurting out from his wounded chest. I watched as my papi laughed hysterically and mocked my abuelo of now knowing how it felt like for him to be the one about to die. And the worst part is, all the people behind my papi joined in after.
I desperately came behind my abuelo when he fell backwards, catching him in the nick of time and raised the gun I was holding, the .45 calibre dessert eagle that my abuelo let me borrowed for the evening, towards the man I thought to be my father.
He stopped laughing and asked me what the hell I was doing but I didn't answer. I cannot answer but instead my abuelo raised his head to look me in my eyes before placing his cold gaze to his own son and said with his last breath.
"You have no idea what you've done, mijo. And for that, the spawn of the devil I have been raising will kill you. All of you."
After that, I black out. I didn't know how long but when I woke up, dead bodies surrounded me. And the one I was standing on with a smoking gun pointed at it was my father's body. His face contorted from the fright I must've given him.
I staggered back towards my abuelo's own body that was thankfully lying on the corner behind one of the craters undisturbed by who knows what I've caused, ignoring the pain caused by my own body along the way. I swift through his pockets to get his personal cellphone and quickly gone through his contact list. Finally finding the person, I dialled him which he picked up at the fourth ring.
"This is Officer Berry." A man's voice said as I exhaled a breathy sigh before responding.
"Abuelo is dead, some men turned him but I killed them back. I just wanted to kill the bastards who've done this to him. I don't know what to do, all of them are dead though." I said with an eerily calm voice.
There was a long pause at the other end of the line that I even thought the man bailed out from me but thankfully he didn't.
"Where are you now, honey? I'm going to get you before the others can." the man said. Wow, nobody ever calls me honey and that calms me a little. I told him where I was and fifteen minutes later a man wearing a cop uniform walked in with a surprised expression written on his face as he surveyed the dead bodies piled up around the room.
I instantly raised my gun at the cop bringing his focus towards me. He slowly raised his hands upwards as a sign of surrender.
"It's ok, I won't hurt you. See the tattoo on my left arm? I'm a friend of your grandfather." He showed me a tattoo of a black sparrow on the inside of his left wrist and on top of the sparrow's chest is my grandfather's name, Dio. As I said before, my abuelo didn't trust anybody if his life depends on it but he did have a few trustworthy men who he calls his friends and to symbolize that friendship he would draw a special tattoo that will represent who you are with a signature of his name on top of the tattoo.
I also have one. It was a gothic tribal cross placed on my back. It was given to me when I was nine. Funny thing about my tattoo was, instead of the name Dio my abuelo usually does. He wrote Diabla. A name not only inappropriate to be placed on a cross so beautifully drawn but also confused me as to why my abuelo wrote it as such. Why though? Didn't he trust me since he was the one who always insists to make me take the family business? Instead he just laugh it off and that I'll get it soon enough.
Fuck, I miss those moments already, the realization that my abuelo caught on to me and I instantly lowered my gun which the man took as a sign to walk towards me then crouching before me. He probably noticed the state I was in because of the not so silent swear he let out.
"Listen we don't have much time. Cops are probably coming in any second now and we still have to treat your wounds. Say your last goodbye to your grandfather because this might be the last time you'll ever see him and lose the gun. You won't need it where we're going."
I just nodded in agreement as I turned myself towards my abuelo one last time, stroking his face tenderly and giving him a kiss on his forehead. I placed his beloved dessert eagle on his palm, not really caring that my prints are still there since I wasn't even in the system to begin with courtesy of him erasing all evidence of my existence as a precaution from the police.
I turned back towards the man with a glare of my own and said, "Let me be clear, I won't be going to any jail until every last member of this fucking family dies or suffers the same pain that I am going through now."
The man only smirk at me, "Damn, you are his granddaughter. Tell me then, who are you now and what are you going to do from now on."
I smirk back at him the way I know how my abuelo smirk at a person who looks down at him, "My name is Santana Diabla Lopez and I don't care how or when I'll do it but I'll hunt those sons of bitches who mess up me and my grand papi."
I was thirteen when that man, Hiram Berry took me in his family which consisted of his total diva partner Leroy Berry and the most annoying girl but have to put up with, Rachel Berry, their daughter. It took me a year to somewhat warm up to them and that includes hurting Rachel every single time she does something stupidly annoying. It took me another year to realize that some things that my abuelo taught me weren't always the case with most children my age and force myself to blend in, lay low and live a quiet life in Lima Ohio.
Now at the age of sixteen, I was about to face my greatest challenge yet. You think being an ex-mafia heir, ex-con artist, ex-thief master, ex-whatever my past entails me is easy? Try going through high school without any idea of what the hell was going on.
Author's notes (again): hmm, now that Santana's past is done. Who would you think is the perfect match for her? Will it be Quinn who has that drive to always get what she want including perhaps Santana or will it be Brittany with her somewhat innocent and refreshing attitude that will either melt or break anyone's heart?