Hello there! A new fic that has been floating around in my head, while I should be paying attention to my classes. Just to note, I will continue my other story Trigger, I was just sick, than classes started, and than I basically forgot about it. But mark these words, it will be continued...I just don't know when. :) Let me know what you think of this fic, reviews are greatly appreciated. :)
"The truth is Santana, you can dish it out but you can t take it. Ok, maybe you re right, maybe I am destined to play the title role in the Broadway musical version of Willow but the only job you re going to have is working on a pole!" Rachel exclaimed.
The choir room fell silent and filled with disbelieving looks. Rachel Berry, just dissed Santana Lopez? The Santana Lopez? Something like that does not just happen. Santana looked around, waiting for someone to say something, but her ears were met with silence. She felt a sting in her chest. Yes, the comment hurt, but it wasn't the main source of her pain. No one had anything to say to that? Sure, she was a bitch, but its not like she really hated them. She looked at Brittany, who just looked back with sad eyes. Artie seeing the exchange, looked smug. Everyone stared at Santana, waiting for her to lash back at Rachel, but what she did shocked them.
"Fine." Santana grabbed her purse and silently made her way to the door.
"Santana.." Mr. Shuester started, but the brunette already left the room.
Santana walked into the hallway, thankful it was empty. She felt a burning behind her eyes. 'No, not here.' She headed towards the nearest bathroom, and pushed her way in. Taking note the room was void of any other students, she walked to the sink and let out a sob. No one cared enough to defend her. No one wanted to defend her. No one wanted her. Not even her best friend said anything. Santana realized that is what hurt the most.
She looked up at her reflection, taking in her appearance. Mascara started to run down her red rimmed eyes, and her face was becoming red and splotchy. 'Unloved,' Santana thought. It was nearing Valentine's Day, and she had no one. Well in particular, she didn't have a certain someone. No, her best friend was off with Wheels. Even Puck, her last resort, was busy making googly eyes at Lauren. Of all people. She scoffed. She looked down at her hands, gripping the sink tightly as more tears fell. Letting more sobs out, she let her mind wander to Brittany. God, how she missed her. She missed her laugh, her smile, the way her eyes brightened when they talked about ducks. Santana loved her. But she hesitated, and Wheels rolled in and took her. Santana scowled at that thought. Brittany was spending almost all her free time with Artie, and now that they were off the Cheerios, her time with Brittany was even more limited. Artie was so wrong for her in so many ways. Santana felt anger swell inside, mixing with her grief, making her stomach churn. Couldn't Britt see that Santana only wanted to protect her? Keep her safe from the narrow-minded and arrogant population of the McKinley hallways? Or from Santana's own parents? Her family was extremely Catholic, and being gay doesn't exactly sit well with her parents' beliefs. She wouldn't dare subject that kind of pain on Brittany. Never. And now she was with Artie.
She looked at herself in the mirror, her vision clouding with red from the mixed emotions. Her rage lashing out, she slammed her fist into her reflection, shattering the mirror. The glass rained down at her feet, scattering along the floor.
"Fuck." Santana looked at her knuckles, watching blood seep up from the mirror induced cuts. She concentrated on the increasing throb of her hand, it sure as hell felt better than the sting in her heart.
Brittany watched as Santana walked out of the room. She went to stand up, but Artie grasped her hand, holding her down.
"What? I need to see if she's okay!" Brittany said.
"Britt, she's Santana. I'm sure she'll be just fine. In fact I bet she'll just slushy some innocent bystander, feel better, and come back." Artie said in a bored tone.
Brittany yanked her hand and stood up, looking at the faces of the glee club. Her gaze landed upon Rachel's.
"That was a terrible thing to say to her. She is just as insecure as the rest of us." Brittany said in a low tone. "Yeah, she can be a bitch, but she can also be the sweetest person I know. I thought we were a team. Deep down I know she cares about all of you." The club looked down with guilt ridden faces. Brittany made eye contact with Quinn, who also looked uncomfortable.
Brittany turned on her heels, and stormed out of the room in search for the brunette. Santana was uncharacteristically quiet, and that couldn't be a good sign.
Brittany walked through the hallway, looking for a sign of Santana. As she walked by the bathroom, she heard a smash. Pushing the door open quietly, she saw Santana hunched over the sink while reaching for paper towels, and a broken mirror in front of her.
"San?" Brittany started quietly. Santana flinched, and grabbed another paper towel.
"What do you want Brittany?" she said coldly. Brittany frowned, she wasn't used to that tone being used with her.
"Are you okay? That was incredibly mean of them."
Santana gave her a curt answer. "I'm fine."
Brittany took in her appearance, noticing the red rimmed eyes, and mascara tracks. She walked over to her and wrapped her arms around Santana and rested her chin on the shorter girl's shoulder.
"I'm sorry they said those things." Brittany said.
Santana scowled, and shrugged out of her arms. She looked at Brittany sharply. "Well, it's not like you had anything to say. And I'm fine anyways." Santana looked down to her hand, readjusting the paper towels. Brittany followed Santana's movements with her gaze, and noticing the red stains along the towels and the sink. The broken mirror clicked in her head.
"San! Your hand! It's bleeding!" Brittany cried. She reached over to examine the wounded knuckles, but Santana stepped away.
"Don't worry about it. Just go back to Wheels." Saying nothing more, Santana stalked out of the bathroom, leaving Brittany.
Tears began to form in her eyes. She hated seeing her best friend, who she probably loved to much, act like this. She wished Santana would just accept who she was, but she kept pushing away. She was happy with Artie, but only because it was easy. Maybe she could in time learn to love him, but he wasn't Santana. Brittany sighed, wanting to go after her, but knew Santana wanted to be alone. She looked at the sink, examining the blood drops slowly sliding down the sink towards the drain. The door suddenly opened, breaking her thoughts. Quinn appeared, and walked towards Brittany.
"You've been gone a while. Did you find Santana?" Quinn inquired. Quinn looked at what Brittany was staring at, seeing the broken mirror and blood stains.
"Jesus Brit, what the hell happened? Are you okay?"
Brittany just gave Quinn a sad look. "Santana was in here." She turned the sink on, watching the colored water swirl down the drain.
"Is she going to be okay?" Quinn asked quietly.
Santana's broken image flashed through Brittany's mind. "I don't know." She answered honestly.