Sweetest Downfall

Ships: quinntana some mentions fuinn, quick and fabrevans

Rating: M to be safe

Genre: angst, romance

This is based off of the props episode with nerdy Santana and bubbly happy Quinn some events changed for story purposes. Nayanna Rivergron really inspired this and they are secretly dating in love okay? I don't own anything related to glee if I did Naya would be the star and it would be quinntana in love with many duets. I need to give a humongous shout out to the best person ever my co-author/beta FairyLies! She is absolutely amazing and I am so happy to have the privilege of writing something with you. Enjoy!

SOPHOMORE YEAR- SANTANA'S POV

You know those typical popular sixteen-year-old girls? The ones that students part for when they pass the halls? The ones who never get slushied? The one who seem to have perfect lives? Yeah... I'm not one of them. Actually I'm the farthest thing from being 'one of them'. My name is Santana Lopez and I'm a loner. I'm the odd one out, the one who is conversely ridiculed by majority of the student population. Oh and to top it all off I am gay, yeah I've known that for a while.

I really didn't want to admit it at first, living in the pseudo Bible belt known as Lima, Ohio made me want to try my best to conform with what is considered to be "right and good". To be a 'normal' girl who wasn't attracted to other girls but someone flipped my world upside down and changed everything. It all happened in sophomore year but I will get back to that later...

My parents and other homophobic people insist that being gay is just a lifestyle choice but it really isn't. From as far back as I can remember, I was the prince or Ken saving Barbie, I wanted to save the princess not become the damsel in distress. I watched TV and movies for my favorite female characters and I protected all the girls in the playground from the nasty boys who had cooties. The point is I love girls well not really if I am being completely honest I am just in love with one girl, the "it" girl, the queen bee, the most desired girl in McKinley high.

Imagine, the nameless girl in the hallway, the smart girl in class, the girl who dresses like a man who everyone fondly dubbed 'insert cruel names here'; urkel, spic, man, dyke etc. is in love with the most popular girl in school. Ridiculous, huh?

I know I'm not an average teenage girl, I don't look or act like one which is probably why I am constantly the slushie target of the popular kids. Well they do scrutinize and reject anything that is unknown to them that can possibly disrupt the social schema that has been established. It's almost natural for those who feel scared and threatened, the ignorant, lash out i.e. the fate of Galileo and Salem witch trials. But I am not equating my life to history's cruelest times but it seems as if human nature darkness and ignorance has not changed over time but has shifted to other issues like homophobia.

I have an affinity for academia it comes easy to me I am good at everything related to it. I have been a National merit scholar, on honor roll, aced the duke test in eighth grade, had an almost perfect SAT score, been to top universities for summer programs like Duke University of Pennsylvania and maybe this year Harvard. It's a fact that I am good in academics and like every other aspect in my life, being intelligent had both positive and negative implications. Life is sometimes too eerily close to Macroeconomics and the free market economy, competition although fruitful at times can still topple a nation. The population of McKinley high does not appreciate me at all because I am the competition, being the smartest girl in school.

Unfortunately for me, both my parents are board certified doctors, one is a trauma surgeon and the other one is in Pediatrics. Expect nothing but superiority from me. It is in my blood, in my genes and also in the way I was brought up. My father raised me on IQ tests, rapid-fire game show type questioning during dinner and other brain training methods that he saw fitting.

When I do see my parents they use our time together to discuss medical procedures with me and prep me for Med school. My household and my future is a non-negotiable contract. The benefit to having career obsessed professional parents is a lot of solitary time. My parents are hardly ever at home. They are just usually present when there are family gatherings, which we really just use to go over and remind our relatives of all our accomplishments, and during their mandatory vacations once a year.

I actually enjoy being alone sometimes because I am given the freedom to immerse myself in topics and paraphernalia that would usually be taboo, forbidden because my father believes that they are a complete waste of time and useless for my education. I am talking about music and my love of singing. I have done it for years in the privacy of my own home listening to old soul records like Etta James, Aretha Franklin the greats. Jazz legends to now almost anything I can get my hands on and of course my abuela, when she used to talk and associate with me, would play all types of latin music around the house. I loved those days dancing and singing with her, the woman who was closest to me, but she disowned me after I came out.

I taught myself how to read sheet music and pursued singing by joining our school's glee club and I love it, it's the best part of my day. Though singing and music aren't enough to make use of all of my spare time, reading, watching television and a lot of sci-fi, fills the gaps. My room is decorated with a mixture of music legends and my favorite cult TV shows like Buffy and Angel posters, lost girl posters, Firefly and so much more.

Martial arts was another hobby of mine, I have taken numerous self-defense classes in the past but they weren't much help with my high school situation. At least they helped with keeping me lean and in shape. My father deemed martial arts worthy of time and effort because you develop character and discipline through martial arts, like I really need more discipline in my life.

I am well disciplined, too well disciplined, I would never use my knowledge in self-defense against anyone. It's not in my nature to retaliate after being attacked. I would never use violence on whoever it was shoving me into a locker, splashing a slushie on me, throwing me into a dumpster or calling me mean names. I'm too disciplined for that.

In McKinley, otherwise known as my personal hell, I keep a change of clothes maybe even two... Just in case one or more of the aforementioned things happen. Speaking of clothes, I have a style. To my mother's dismay my wardrobe consists mostly of button-up shirts, khakis, men's jeans, hoodies, sweater sets and a few ties. I am also partial to boots, converse and basketball shoes. My fashion sense was a bit controversial in school... The lack of outfits consisting of dresses, skirts and tank tops made me different.

I don't care if I'm different though, this is me and I like it. Gone were the days where I had to be uncomfortable and force myself to wear revealing feminine clothing. Now I happily cover my body with clothes of my choosing which often results to my peers scrutinizing me. Oh well...

All of freshmen year I was the geek that blended in with the general population. I wore the tops my mother bought me, the revealing skirts that made me cringe when I saw myself in the mirror. Even when I dressed that way things were still far from being good, I was still invisible and ridiculed for being a geek, I was still a loser. The mask I used to cover the real me, the lies I used to hide who I really was, weren't really helpful when it came to popularity.

I changed sophomore year and it just so happened that, that was the same year the girl of my dreams moved to McKinley high. I accepted my sexuality told my parents, my family and did what I needed to do. My parents sort of just ignore it and focus on pushing for my education, that way I won't be a total embarrassment. The rest of the family though has blotted out my existence.

Coming out was worth it though, I really hated the way guys treated me when I was pretending to be perfectly straight. I could rationalize my change in that I chose to not contribute in the overt sexualization of the female image, defy the patriarchal influence that has dictated this trend that women have succumbed to in various fashions. Some have turned their sexuality into empowerment but the source of this trends origin indicates the inherent underbellies of our nationalist sexist culture. In reality, this choice to change my style of clothes coincided with me coming out. I wasn't going to pretend to be heterosexual anymore, to continue to grovel at the feet of my oppressor, to just keep skating by, I took a stand and did what I wanted. My decision had benefits but it also had numerous consequences.

It is most disconcerting in the locker room here at McKinley since I don't play a sport I have to take a physical education class for two years. Changing everyday with girls either yelling at me not to look at them or them tormenting me for even being in the girl's locker room. Thankfully, it let up after some time but that was only when my girl got involved. Okay, she is nowhere near mine in my most fanatical dreams she is so if I can't be with her for real I might as well refer to her in my own musings. I give myself that latitude.

When I look in the mirror, I know that I can't really ever have the girl of my dreams. First of all she is straight and I haven't heard anything to combat that. As I sit in my classroom fiddling with my black rimmed glasses that slide across the bridge of my nose, my side-swept bangs messy and unkempt occasionally twirling my slightly curled ink black locks I ponder about my sophomore year at McKinley and the arrival of a hurricane causing irrevocable change otherwise known as Quinn Fabray.

She transferred to our school sophomore year and her very first impression left the student body parting in the wake of her very presence. In retrospect, I really had no chance to not let this girl consume my every waking thought she is that effervescent, beautiful and lit with life. Quinn Fabray walked down the hallway that first day of sophomore year in a baby blue striped dress, a cardigan sweater and cute blue sneakers. I can remember everything. My first impression was; this girl is so beautiful her hair from this far away looks like gold silk expertly styled and tousled shoulder length. I just stayed by my locker and stared at this natural beauty. Her locker is relatively close to me 3 over and I got a close look as she struggled with her combination.

Her slowly approaching form set every single one of my nerve endings on fire, it knotted up my stomach and just completely stunned me. Time stopped, all there was, was a gorgeous blonde new girl that I was already heavily crushing on at first site. It truly was love at first sight upon reflection now but when the girl turned towards me and smiled my mind short circuited all of sudden life's burdens were nonexistent she was happy so I became that way as well.

Her smile left me breathless staring at her beautiful face plump pink lips that looked absolutely maddening, a bone structure that almost seemed sculpted. Graceful was her entire aura her movement fluid like she was constantly dancing. The moment I made eye contact with her, absolutely shook my very foundation, her hazel eyes the most mesmerizing mix of colors as she minutely shifted. The light exposing their fluctuating colors between a mix of green and flecks of gold. All hope of retaining air left my lungs and if I had any semblance of my mind left I would've pulled out my inhaler. But I was frozen, prisoner, completely taken by this ridiculously attractive stranger.

I knew from the first time that I saw her that I wanted her, I also knew that I had no chance of getting her. She was popular, she was going to be prom queen, and she was meant to be the star quarterback's girlfriend. The queen of the social hierarchy... Not the freak's girl, not my girl.

PRESENT- QUINN'S POV

Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep...

The sound of constant beeping from the EKG machine was giving me mixed feelings. I like hearing it because the sound means Santana is still alive but I despised the beeping for being a constant reminder that Santana was currently lying on a hospital bed in front of me, unconscious.

Seeing her once flawless skin covered in bruises and wounds just twists up my insides. I can actually feel my heart breaking whenever my eyes would take in how broken she was. I have been in this hospital room for 2 days, everyone has been trying to get me to leave but I can't. I can't leave Santana here, I need to be here when she opens her eyes. I need to tell her how sorry I am and how I really feel about her.

It isn't too late... She isn't gone. Screw what the doctor said. I refuse to believe that there is a chance that Santana Lopez won't wake up. She's the fucking strongest person I know, she has to wake up. She just has to...

She has to open her eyes so I can tell her those three words I've been struggling to keep in all this time.