A/N: I got the idea for this fic from a monologue Santana had in chapter four of my other fic Shattered Heart. It isn't necessary to read Shattered Heart to 'get' this. I will paste the excerpt that inspired this, below. Feedback is greatly appreciated!
Toffee Colored Eyes and the Secrets of the Universe
Excerpt
"Girls.". Emma smiled as she greeted the Cheerios, her smile turning into a slight frown as Brittany desperately exclaimed that she was no longer keeping birds in her locker. "No, sweetie, that's not what this is about. I wanted to talked to you about Puck."
Tears instantly welled up in Brittany's eyes. "I've never known anybody dead before."
Santana narrowed her eyes at Emma, she had spent all weekend comforting her friend, and she didn't like that the guidance counselor was upsetting Brittany all over again. "Is this really necessary?"
"Well, Santana, why don't you tell me what happened, sometimes it helps." Emma tried to hide how obviously intimidated she was by the head cheerio.
"Tell you what happened? Puck died, he's dead, that's what happened; rehashing every single detail about the night he died will not bring him back." Santana's voice cracked as she fought back any kind of emotion. "People die every day. Life goes on, people move on. The seasons will change, Quinn will have her baby, we will leave this hell hole that is Lima Ohio and somehow we will move on. And then there will be days that pass without thoughts of Puck running through our minds, those days will turn into weeks, maybe even months. Then we won't remember what his voice sounded like, struggle to picture his face in our minds. Eventually it will take us a few minutes to remember when his birthday was. We will have to think for a few seconds to remember the date he died, we will ask ourselves "was it a Friday? Maybe it was a Saturday." Over time we won't remember what we wore that night or the way the breeze in the air seemed to sting our wet cheeks, despite it being spring. The sounds of him dying, Quinn screaming, and the ambulance wailing in the background will move to the back of our minds, always there, but filed away. We won't know how we did it, but we will all find a way to be okay." Santana quickly blinked away the tears in her eyes, squeezing Brittany's hand for support "Listen, Ms. Pillsbury, I watched both my parents die, you never get over it and you will never be the same again but you manage to move forward and somehow your life starts to make sense again, they don't know it now but one day we will walk into the choir room and our focus will be on set lists and whatever obnoxious thing Rachel Berry happens to be doing that day and not on his empty chair and abandoned guitar, the glee club will move on, we will perform again with smiles on our faces. But talking about his death incessantly is not going to make it happen, time will." Santana stood up, motioning for Brittany to follow her, linking arms with the girl as they exited the office.
Emma sat back in her chair, not expecting to hear so much from the Cheerio. She thought about what she said and wondered if she was right, maybe she was just wasting all of these kids' time and making things worse for them.
"Santana Noelle Lopez!" Santana's sister, Natalia, shouts as she walks through the front door of the house the two shared.
Santana groaned as her sister's shrill voice traveled up to her room, she rolls her eyes before slowly going downstairs. "What?" She asks, her voice cold and void of emotion, already knowing what her sister wanted.
"Care to explain why you felt the need to verbally attack freshman Cheerios in the cafeteria today?" Natalia placed her hands on her hips, her dark brown eyes filled with anger and frustration. "Your principal called me at work! At work Santana! I cannot have those kinds of distractions, if I lose this job, we wont be able to stay in this house, and I know how much staying here means to."
"Stop patronizing me. You are not my mother." Santana scoffed before turning back towards the stairs.
"You are right. I'm not. But what do you think Mama and Papi would think of this? What do you think they would think of who you've become?" Natalia realized she had begun to yell and lowered her voice considerably. "I miss my sister. I miss her smile and her laugh. I don't even recognize you anymore, San."
Santana refused to turn around and face her sister, not wanting the presence of the tears falling from her eyes and down her cheeks to be known to the older girl. "Maybe your sister died that afternoon too." Santana walked up the stairs, not daring to look back, not wanting to see the look of disappointment and hurt she knew would be on Natalia's face. It was a look Santana knew well, one she caused more than she ever wanted to.
Once in her room she locked the door before grabbing a framed photograph off her bedside table. Slowly, she traced the faces of her parents with her finger, the hurt in her heart growing as she stared down at the happy carefree smiles on her and Natalia's faces. She was shocked at how much could change in three years, hell she was shocked at how much could change in a second. One second, one second was all it took for her entire world to come crashing down. She closed her eyes, giving into the memory which refused to be suppressed.
"Now Mija, please listen to your sister." Santana's mother, Rosa pleaded with her then thirteen year old.
"I will Mama!" Santana promised as she wrapped her arms around her mother's neck, inhaling the clean, fresh scent of her shampoo, having no way of knowing it would be for the last time. Smiling as she pulled back to gaze into her mother's eyes, she always thought they looked like the color of toffee, her favorite treat.
"Oh I am going to miss you girls so much!" Rosa exclaimed as she moved over to hug Natalia, who had just turned nineteen.
Santana's father, Carlos let out a loud booming laugh, Santana loved her Papi's laugh, it always sounded as if it came from deep inside his soul, and it was nothing if not infectious. "Oh Rosa, always so dramatic! We will only be gone for one night." He wrapped his arms around Santana's shoulders. "Our girls will be just fine without us."
Santana pulled herself out of the memory, thinking about her father's words. Wondering how the man who she thought knew everything could be so very wrong. Her father was the smartest man she knew, she swore he held all the secrets of the universe somewhere inside of him.
Santana thought back to what Natalia had said. What would they think of her? Would they be proud of her? She had kept her grades up, only because she remembered the numerous times her mother had stressed the importance of education. Would they come to her Cheerios competitions, and watch proudly in the audience, cheering their mija on? Santana sighed, she wasn't sure what she believed as far as the afterlife, or lack there of, but she knew if her parents were watching over her they were most likely not impressed with the cold, hard exterior she had developed and the way she pushed everyone away. She was too scared to let anybody in, afraid they would be ripped away from her, just like her parents were. Santana smiled as she thought about the exception to her rule, Brittany.
Rosa had home-schooled Santana, so naturally the girl didn't have very many friends; except for the blue eyed blonde who lived across the street. Brittany knew Santana before she became cold, and seemingly heartless. Brittany knew the girl who loved butterflies, the color pink, and ice cream sundaes. She knew the Santana whose laugh was just as infectious as her father's. Santana knew Brittany missed that girl, the girl she used to be; and truth be told, Santana missed that girl too.
Some days she wanted to scream, the facade she had built up, was exhausting. She hated all the effort it took to put on a mean, cold face and act as if she did not care about anything. She hated not being able to recognize herself in the mirror. But at the same time, she loved it. The walls she built up around her heart and emotions made the pain stop. She was getting to the point where she felt nothing at all, and while it was not desirable, it was better than the pain. The familiar numbness is part of the reason she gave herself to so many guys. Sex made her feel something; it made her feel alive. When she was with a man, it was almost as if all the best parts of herself did not die along with her parents that afternoon in the driveway.
She wondered if anyone, besides Brittany, could see how dissatisfied she was with herself. She wondered if anyone could tell her perverse, callous attitude was nothing but a wall; and behind that wall was a scared, vulnerable little girl who wanted nothing more than to smell the crisp, clean scent of her Mama's shampoo, while looking into toffee colored eyes and hear the loud booming laughter of her Papi, while he shared all the secrets of the universe with her.
The sound of tires screeching outside her window caused her mind to go back to that day, that afternoon, that second, which shaped the last three years of her life.
Santana and Natalia waved as their parents backed the hunter green minivan out of the driveway; Santana smiled brightly as her mother blew her a kiss. Her smile quickly faded from her lips as she saw the truck speeding down the street. She waited for him to stop, he had to stop. He had to stop, but he did not. He did not notice the van carrying the toffee eyed woman with crisp, clean smelling hair and the man who held all the secrets of the universe. He did not notice them until it was too late. The sound of the tires screeching and the metal coming together, twisting into unrecognizable shapes was sickening.
Santana's tears splashed against the glass of the picture frame, as they had done many times before. She thought back to a conversation she had with Ms. Pillsbury a few weeks prior. She had told the woman how everyone eventually moves on after the death of a loved one, that life eventually begins to make sense again, she had told Ms. Pillsbury that with passion, as if she really meant it. But the truth was, everything she said was a lie. Nothing in her life made sense, it hadn't for three years. Santana was not sure why she lied to Ms. Pillsbury, she's not even sure where her speech came from, she didn't believe a single word out of her mouth. Perhaps she did it to to soothe an upset Brittany, or to make Ms. Pillsbury feel as if she was doing a halfway decent job, or maybe she did it for herself, maybe if she said it, it would come true. Maybe one day she could move forward, maybe her life could make since again someday.
Santana kissed the photograph in her hands before turning out the light. As much as she wanted to wake up in the morning as the girl who loved butterflies, the color pink, and ice cream sundaes, she knew she would wake up as the head bitch in charge who verbally assaulted other students, pretended to hate Glee Club, and always hid her true self behind a wall she built three years ago, after one second changed everything.