What's Left of Santana
By: SometimesIWish

Santana is scared.

It doesn't happen often and, when it does, she usually doesn't let anyone know, not even Brittany. But this time… this time she wants to tell someone. She wants to tell someone and have someone hold her and comfort her and tell her it's going to be okay. Because, at that moment, everything is not okay.

She's shivering in the Cheerios' locker room, her arms wrapped tightly around her knees, which are drawn up to her chest, sitting at the very end of the very back row of lockers. Because, as much as she wants to tell someone, she doesn't want anyone to find her like this. As much as she wants someone to hold her, she doesn't want anyone to touch her because it would still feel like Him. As much as she wants someone to comfort her and tell her it's going to be okay, she doesn't want false hope. Because she knows.

The thick, sticky substance of blood is slowly drying on the insides of her thighs and she can't bring herself to care enough to walk over to the showers and turn the water on. Oh, she desperately wants to. She wants to wash away all the evidence and pretend it never happened, but it's like He took her energy when He took her innocence. And she can't get it back.

There are loud, echoing footsteps and, for a moment, Santana is afraid that He's come back. That He wasn't satisfied and He's searching for more. But then she realizes the footsteps are just loud because the locker room is nearly empty and that they are the simple touch of the sole of a shoe to the tiled floor. She struggles to hold in a whimper and hugs her knees tighter to her chest.

"Santana, are you in here?"

Hiding is something Santana is very good at doing. When her parents fight, she hides in the forgotten storage closet in the basement, which is stuffed full of old children's toys and aged books. When Christmas comes around and her little brother tries to open his gifts weeks ahead of time, she finds unique places around the house to hide his presents. And when she's at school, she pushes her emotions to the back of her mind and hides behind the bitchy mask everyone has come to know her by.

The only person she has never been able to hide from is Brittany, mostly because she's never had a reason to hide from her. And, for once, she's hoping the blonde doesn't find her.

"Santana, I know you're in here."

A whimper escapes Santana's mouth and the footsteps get closer and closer before she's staring down the row of lockers at a pair white tennis shoes, up a long dancer's legs, to the short cheerleading skirt and top distributed by Coach Sylvester, until, finally, she's staring into the blue clarity that is Brittany's eyes.

"Santana?"

Brittany's voice is soft, her eyes wide with horror as she surveys the scene in front of her. Santana knows she looks like a mess, can feel the bruises forming on her arms and face, the blood trickling down from the corner of her mouth, but she can't bring herself to speak. She simply stares into Brittany's eyes, silently begging for the blonde to help her.

And Brittany does. She slowly steps forward, as if approaching a wild animal, and kneels in front of Santana, the expression of horror wiped clean off her face and replaced with one conveying kindness and caring. Santana whimpers as Brittany reaches out and gently touches her cheek where a bruise is quickly forming and the blonde quickly snatches her hand back.

They sit there like that for minutes, just looking at each other. Brittany's company reassures Santana and she relaxes, slumping back against the lockers and letting her legs stretch out in front of her. Her arms wrap tightly around her chest, as if she's trying to keep herself from falling apart, and Brittany understands. She doesn't say she understands, but Santana knows she does.

There are more footsteps and Santana immediately stiffens, eyes darting around frantically as she pulls her knees back up to her chest. Brittany touches her on the arm briefly, comfortingly, before quickly getting to her feet and walking quickly to the end of the row. She peeks around the corner, her body language portraying wariness, before she relaxes and steps forward.

"Quinn, what are you doing here?"

The tone of her voice is pleasant, but Santana can detect the hint of annoyance beneath the façade. The footsteps stop.

"I was coming here to get my history book. I thought I forgot it in my locker, but I think I left it on the bench in the last row there. You didn't happen to see it, did you?"

Brittany peeks back in the row and her eyes connect with Santana's before flitting to the brown paper-covered history book setting on the bench. She walks forward, hand outstretched to grab the book, when Quinn appears behind her, a slight smile on her face as she watches Brittany. A smile that disappears when she sees Santana.

"Oh my God, Santana, what happened?"

And, just like that, everything is a whirlwind of chaos. Quinn is already pressing numbers in her phone before Brittany is able to turn around and tell her to stop.

Moments later, Mr. Schuester is kneeling in front of Santana as Coach Sylvester towers over him, demanding to know who did this. Principal Figgins is on the phone while motioning for a couple police officers to hold on and Brittany's older sister is looking between Brittany, Quinn, and Santana, a sympathetic expression on her face. The only one Santana really wants there is the girl standing farthest away from her, a guilty expression on her face as she focuses her normally happy blue eyes on the tile in front of her foot.

Hours later, her parents are on a flight home from Los Angeles, her older brother is driving in from Chicago, and her little brother is staying at a friend's house as Santana sits on the bed in the guest bedroom at Brittany's house. After hours of fruitless interrogation, a medical examination at the Lima County Hospital, and a police escort back to Brittany's house, Santana just wants to go to sleep and forget it happened at all.

Except she can't.

Every time she closes her eyes, she sees his jeering face, the look in his eyes, the satisfaction as he zips up his jeans, kicks her in the side, and tells her she's a useless piece of Mexican trash. Every time she sees him, her heartbeat speeds up and her airway closes up and she has to focus on a square of the quilt beneath her in order to keep herself from hyperventilating and passes out. Every time she almost passes out, she wishes Brittany would come in and hold her and tell her it's going to be okay.

There's a quiet knock on the door and she looks up to see Brittany's older sister, Bethany, standing in the doorway. They look almost exactly the same, with blonde hair, lithe dancer's bodies, slender shoulders, long legs, and blue eyes. But that's where everything changes. The eyes.

Brittany's eyes are shining, excited, and are always lit up in happiness. They are expressive, a portal staring right into her happy-go-lucky soul. But Bethany's eyes… Bethany's eyes are hard and steely, conveying her knowledge of the world and her maturity.

Bethany's eyes weren't always that way. It used be that Santana couldn't tell the two girls apart by anything but their height. Pictures of them were identical and even the two girls had difficulty distinguishes their childhood photos. But when Bethany was a freshman in college, something changed. And Santana didn't like it. She started to avoid Bethany, keeping as far away from her as possible. She was afraid the icy eyes would trap her and keep her captive. Then it just became a normality, with barely a "hello" exchanged between the two girls whenever Santana visited and Bethany was there.

"She should be back soon," Bethany murmurs quietly, and Santana nods as she focuses her gaze back on the quilt square directly in front of her. Brittany is at the police station, still being questioned by the detective there, along with Quinn. The police are hoping they'll get more out of Brittany and Quinn than they did out of Santana, which is nothing.

"It gets better," Bethany whispers.

Santana looks up incredulously and their eyes connect. For the first time, Santana understands as she sees the sympathetic expression on Bethany's face.

"It was my freshman year of college when it happened," Bethany whispers, leaning against the doorframe and hooking her thumbs in her belt loops. "I was one of the many girls who were out on campus, but I was one of the ones who advocated her sexuality more. I was more outspoken than anyone else on campus."

It's apparent that Bethany hasn't talked much about this with anyone. Santana watches curiously as the blonde's eyes roam the room, going anywhere except Santana's face, Santana's eyes. She's scared and she shows it, but she's courageous enough to show Santana her weakness.

"A group of guys didn't like that I was so proud of my sexuality," Bethany says quietly. "So, when I was walking back to my dorm one night, they jumped me and raped me."

Santana's eyes widen. It's the first time someone has said that word in front of her, has said it directly to her face and suggested that that is what happened to her. Tears prick her eyes and she struggles to hold them back, to keep herself together, to not let her weaknesses show.

"I'm not going to tell you that once it's over, it's fine," Bethany says, her eyes finally making contact with Santana's. "Because it isn't. People won't understand. They'll push you and ask you questions and lie to you about it feeling better once the guy is in jail. All they want is to make sure it doesn't happen to anyone else. People at school won't understand, won't care. They'll expect you to be the same person.

"But there are people who will understand. They'll know that you don't want to talk about it or think about it or even acknowledge that it happened. People like Brittany. Keep her close, Santana. Don't push her away. She can help you."

Bethany can see Santana won't reply, so she gives the Latina a comforting smile before backing out of the room. Santana opens her mouth to say something and Bethany pauses, waiting for her to speak, but the words get stuck at the lump in her throat and she merely snaps her mouth shut and nods gratefully. The blonde understands, nods back, and leaves the room, closing the door behind her.

She hears a car pull into the driveway and instinctively knows it's Brittany. Watching the door, she counts the seconds until the tentative knock, the slow creak of it opening, and the hesitant head poking inside the room. Santana manages to give Brittany a small smile, encouraging the blonde to come into the room, before a tears slides down her face.

Then Brittany is sitting on the bed next to Santana, pulling her into a warm embrace, and holding her tightly as she cries. No sound escapes Santana's body, but hot, wet tears stream down her face as her shoulders shake with silent sobs. Her whole body aches and she's tired and she can't help but think that she's grateful that Brittany understands as she slowly drifts off to sleep in the blonde's arms.

Her parents try to keep her from going to school the next morning, but she gets dressed in her uniform and packs her books away in her bag anyways. She sits down next to Brittany at the kitchen table and forces Fruit Loops down her throat, knowing they won't let her go if she doesn't eat. Mrs. Pierce and Bethany fight her parents and she's allowed to go to school.

Brittany tries to get in the driver's seat, but Santana quickly steps in front of her and grabs for the handle, her eyes begging for Brittany to understand. The blonde nods and goes around to the other side, getting in the passengers' seat. Santana smiles gratefully because, if she drives, she feels more in control. If Brittany drove it would feel like her parents were walking her into the school with her squished between them.

People at school stare and whisper, but she pretends she doesn't hear them, keeping her head held high as she walks down the halls with Brittany by her side. But after the first couple whispered comments, she feels her courage start to waver and glances desperately at the blonde beside her. Brittany smiles comfortingly and reaches for her hand, squeezing it reassuringly.

Then something amazing happens.

Mercedes comes up on her left and hooks an arm through hers. Rachel and Quinn step in front of the trio and she turns her head to see Sam, Mike, and Kurt walking behind them. Tina joins Brittany and Artie rolls up next to Mercedes. Puck and Finn bring up the rear, Puck glaring at spectators pressed up against the lockers and Finn trying to do the same.

The feeling is awesome, that there are eleven other people willing to stand up to the rest of the school for you. Willing to intimidate hundreds of other kids in order to make you feel comfortable. And it's awesome to see that kids have to press themselves up against the lockers in order to let them pass by.

The crowd of glee clubbers melts away as they approach Santana's first class and she is left with Brittany clutching her hand and Kurt standing behind her protectively. They are the only three glee clubbers in her first class and Kurt manages to get them the corner seats so Santana can avoid the glances of people looking in from the hallway.

The glee clubbers surround Santana again between first and second period and it goes like that for the rest of the day. They have their own lunch table and even situate her in the middle of the room during glee club. After school, Santana feels exhausted, but a little better now that she knows there are people on her side.

That night, her parents force her to come home and sleep in her own bed, in her own room, away from Brittany. As soon as the lights are turned off and the door is shut, sounds and images assault her mind and she opens her mouth to let out a terrified scream. Her parents come running, but they can't get close to her because she's flailing around and would probably break someone's face if they got closer than three feet away.

Her parents give in and call the Pierces, asking if it would be okay for Brittany to sleep over for the next couple nights. Mr. and Mrs. Pierce agree and ten minutes later, Brittany is walking into Santana's room with a suitcase, her book bag, and all the extra uniforms she was given by Coach Sylvester.

Brittany doesn't try to comfort Santana because she can tell that Santana doesn't want to be touched. The Latina wipes her tears away, stands up, and grabs Brittany's suitcase from her. She wordlessly starts rearranging her dresser drawers and unpacking Brittany's suitcase. They spend the night watching Disney movies and dozing off for increments of thirty to forty minutes.

Weeks pass and things don't get much better. Santana still refuses to talk and people at school start to get used to a silent Santana. The glee club stops surrounding her in the hallways and escorting her to her classes, although Brittany is always by her side holding her hand tightly and it isn't unusual for Mercedes or Kurt to walk to class with them on occasion.

Then Miss Pillsbury calls Santana to her office in the middle of class. Both Brittany and Santana stand, but the teacher says the note is just for Santana. Santana sits back down and Brittany refuses to sit. The teacher finally relents and both Brittany and Santana walk to Miss Pillsbury's office hand-in-hand.

"Hi, girls, how are you doing?" Miss Pillsbury asks as they walk in.

Brittany closes the door behind them and they sit down in the two chairs setting in front of Miss Pillsbury's desk.

"Santana, I've held off on calling you to my office because of recent events," Miss Pillsbury says slowly, carefully.

Brittany's eyes flash in anger and Miss Pillsbury pauses fearfully. In recent weeks, Brittany and Santana's roles have switched. Santana is the quiet one who doesn't point out the flaws of other people while Brittany has become more aggressive in order to protect Santana.

"But I was wondering if you've thought about college at all. And you, too, Brittany. You're both juniors and it's coming to the end of the year now. I see you both took the SATs in March and scored relatively well," Miss Pillsbury says, looking down at the papers on her desk. "You both have very good grades and are extremely talented. Nationals is coming up for both glee and Cheerios and there's a chance you'll place, and even win, at both competitions."

Santana is surprised by Miss Pillsbury's choice of topic. She expected the redhead to try to delve into her mind about… it. But college? It was something she hadn't been thinking about recently. Ever since it happened, she hadn't been thinking about much at all.

And the surprise forces Santana to do something she hasn't done for weeks.

"I want to go to college with Brittany."

She can see the astonished looks on Brittany and Miss Pillsbury's faces as she speaks her first words in weeks and she promptly breaks down. Miss Pillsbury looks like she doesn't know what to do, but Brittany quickly gets out of her chair and kneels in front of her, her eyes wide with understanding.

"You can talk about it here," Brittany whispers. "It's okay. You can talk about it now. Miss Pillsbury can help and so can I."

Santana's tears disappear and she realizes that is why she hasn't been talking since it happened. Because she's wanted to talk about it and she wasn't sure if anyone wanted to listen. But here is Brittany and Miss Pillsbury, both willing and kind and understanding and able to help her, so why shouldn't she take advantage of the opportunity?

So she opens her mouth and begins to speak. At first she stutters a lot and keeps her eyes trained on her knees because she's not used to people listening. But she grows more confident with every word and is gradually able to look Miss Pillsbury and Brittany in the eye.

She explains how she had sent Brittany out to wait in the car while she went to her locker to get her forgotten English book. He had been waiting there for her, as if He knew she would be coming back for something. She had ignored him at first, just going to her locker and pulling her English book out while He watched. Just as she closed her locker, He had grabbed her from behind and pulled her into the Cheerios' locker room.

That was one of the detrimental things about being captain of the Cheerios because she's always the last one out of the locker room, even after Coach Sylvester. He told her she was a whore, that she was a filthy dyke for walking around with Brittany the way she did, that she was nothing but a piece of Mexican filth. But she was stronger and fought back, slammed Him into the lockers and slapped Him across the face.

But then He said something that stopped her in her tracks.

"If you don't do as I say, I'm going to do this to your little dyke friend. And she won't know to fight. We both know that. Sure, she'll cry and she'll beg for you to save her, but I'll get her when you aren't there for her. And I'll break her and you won't ever be able to fix her."

After that, Santana hadn't fought. She had just lain there, letting Him do whatever He wanted to her body. She had let Him use her, take everything from her, because she couldn't stand the thought of Him doing the same thing to her Brittany.

After He was finished, he had kicked her in the side and left her, a fearful expression on His face. Because underneath all the bravado, He was just a coward. Brittany had found her twenty minutes later cowering in the last row of the locker room and they know the rest of the story.

Brittany's face is sad and there are tears streaming down her cheeks. She apologizes over and over against, her voice pitiful and broken.

"Listen, mi dulce. This isn't your fault," she whispers, cradling Brittany's face in her hands and wiping her tears away with her thumbs. "If it's your fault, that means it's my fault, in part. And we both know that's not true. The only person to blame is him."

They embrace each other as Miss Pillsbury babbles away about some therapist she can see three times a week after school. Santana knows she's not fully healed, that telling two people about what happened to her isn't enough to make her completely okay again. But it's a start and, at that moment, that's all that matters.

It's summer and Santana is lying out in the sun on a towel by the edge of Brittany's new in ground swimming pool. Loud music is playing and Santana smiles as she hears a shriek and a splash from the pool, letting her know that Quinn had once again managed to push Brittany off Puck's shoulders in their game of Chicken.

She can hear Rachel, Mercedes, Kurt, and Tina poring over some fashion magazines to her right and Mike, Sam, and Artie are tossing a football around as they talk about their senior year football team. Mr. Schuester is supposed to drop by later and there are a couple parents gathered inside talking with Mr. and Mrs. Pierce.

A shadow falls on Santana's face and she opens her eyes to see Bethany standing over her, a small smile on her face. Santana sits up and moves over on her towel so Bethany won't be forced to sit on the burning-hot cement. Bethany gratefully takes the seat and looks Santana over. Santana blushes and ducks her head, this being the first time she's worn a bikini since it happened.

"You're doing better," Bethany observes.

"Yeah, it helps to talk about it."

Bethany nods and shifts her gaze from Santana to the quartet swimming in the pool. Brittany waves to them and Bethany and Santana wave back, smiles appearing on both of their faces as Finn dunks her under the water and Brittany flips them over, sitting on Finn's shoulders as he comes up for air.

"Do you know where you want to go to school yet?" Bethany asks, and Santana is reminded of the meeting with Miss Pillsbury and Brittany a few months back.

"Well Britt wants to go to school in New York," she answers slowly, keeping her eyes on Brittany's slippery form as the blonde is dumped into the water and cuts through the liquid like a fish. Her blonde head comes up to the surface for air and she has a look of revenge on her face. "I think she's trying for Juilliard. So I'm going to check out NYU, Columbia, whatever other schools they have there. Maybe I'll look at a few in LA, as well. UCLA has a pretty good law school."

"Law school?"

Santana nods. "Yeah, I think that's where I want to go," she says quietly. "Or maybe psychology. Something where I can help other people who have been through the same stuff I've been through."

"Rainbow chalupa!" Brittany screams, and Santana looks at the pool to see Brittany and Quinn climbing out and running toward her. She looks back at Bethany, who has a regretful smile on her face.

"Sorry, but I promised," she says, and Santana realizes exactly what's going on. Her eyes widen and she scrambles to get to her feet, but Bethany is faster and holds her arm as Brittany and Quinn approach her, giggles escaping them as they also grab Santana and walk her towards the pool.

"Please, no, don't do it!" Santana screams, but there's a smile on her face and the trio just laughs at her and throws her in.

As she surfaces, Brittany jumps into the pool and she's once again doused with water from the large splash. Brittany surfaces next to her and Santana pulls her in, dunking her under the water and pushing away victoriously. The blonde follows her, coming up beneath her and tugs her under. They stare at each other underneath the water before Brittany propels them toward the surface.

"As much fun as that was, you completely ruined my tanning," Santana said, tapping Brittany on the nose.

"I love you," Brittany murmurs sweetly. Santana knows she's just trying to be forgiven and laughs as she shakes her head.

"I love you, too," she whispers seriously before capturing Brittany's mouth in a kiss.

There are sounds of adoration from the girls and cheers from the guys, but Santana can't bring herself to care as she pulls away from Brittany and looks into her eyes. The sparkling blue of Brittany's eyes calms and comforts her, just as they always have, and she grips the blonde tighter as she leans in for another kiss.

It's summer, she's with her friends, she has Brittany for a girlfriend, and, for once, Santana doesn't have a reason to hide her fear because she's with people who understand. Life couldn't get much better.