AN: So this is primarily a Brittana story (because they own my soul), and I'll probably throw in some side pairings along the way. Probably a little Quick implications and some Faberry (not a fanatic shipper of them, but heh, why not), or maybe some Finchel. I'm just gonna go with the flow, so stay tuned, haha.

Also, this is my first multi-chap Brittana story and I'm not really used to writing from a Santana-like POV. Normally I'm more of a Brittany, but I felt as though this story would be better told through Santana's eyes. So bear with me if I don't always get it right (:

Disclaimer: I own nothing glee related, yada yada….

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Seventeen years ago today, my mother died.

Growing up without a mom was difficult. I'm not going to sugar coat it for you. I don't have any brothers or sisters. It's just me and my dad in this great big house. Most people call it a mansion, but let's be real here. It's a fucking castle. Ridiculous, in my opinion. Far too large for a family of two, and no, I don't count our twenty-some servants. If we had a smaller home, we wouldn't even need them.

But the house had been passed down through generations and generations… On my mom's side. He'd never sell it. He'd never live anywhere else. Everything in it reminded him of her. The dining table, where they used to sit across from each other. The grand staircase, where he'd knelt down on one knee and proposed, all those years ago. The garden out back, where (supposedly) I was conceived. She was everywhere in this house. The only thing that kept her close. The only tie that managed to keep them tethered even after all these years.

It was sad, really, but I could never tell him to move on. He'd lost his wife. His soul mate. His greatest love. I'd never been in love, myself, but I couldn't blame him.

The other half of your heart must have been a terrible thing to lose.

I sat at the top of the stairwell, where I did every year, just waiting for him to get home. Tears burned against my brown eyes. My mother's eyes. It was like this every year. Always one distraction or another, without fail. Last year, he came home with a speedboat. The year before that, it was a parakeet. My papi, with a fucking parakeet. I was as stunned as the servants.

The parakeet didn't last two weeks.

Always one distraction or another, and as I sat sadly at the top of the stairs, waiting for him, I wondered what he would bring home this year. A new car, maybe. Or perhaps a puppy. One thing after another that would entertain him for just a little while before he got bored and even angrier than he had been before.

My phone suddenly vibrated inside the front pocket of my denim shorts, drawing me from my thoughts. I quickly pulled the too-large device from my clothing and swiped my thumb across the screen.

Come over tonight, babe. I'll invite only the coolest and we'll celebrate the right way.

It was from Noah Puckerman. My oldest friend. His dad was my dad's best friend. I always said I didn't have siblings, but really, Puck was more of a brother than anything else. For a couple years after he hit puberty, he tried his best to get in my pants, but I wasn't interested. Too weird. And the mohawk was such a turn-off. But it was nice to have someone to get close to. I'd never really had that before.

Thanks Puck. I'll let you know. –S

It depended on my father more than it did on me. Of course, getting out of this house would be a blessing. He didn't let me do it enough, and I resented him for it. He even hired me several private tutors so I never had to leave. It was torturous, really, and I hated the thought of him constantly watching me. Always having one eye peeled for his pretty little mistake.

It's not like I did it on purpose.

Our gigantic front door suddenly burst open and startled me from my thoughts. I quickly pocketed my cell phone and made to stand, ready to run down and greet my father like the obedient little daughter I'd been conditioned to be. My brown eyes, similar to his own but identical to my mother's, locked on his stalking figure. I hadn't even taken one step before I noticed what he was dragging behind him.

His new distraction.

His new pet.

Tall. Blonde. Beautiful.

And she looked petrified.

"Please," I heard her beg, practically digging her heels into our marble floor as my father just continued to pull her along forcefully by her wrist. He either didn't hear her plea, or he simply didn't care. My bet was with the latter.

"I beg you, Sir," the girl continued as they made their way across our grand foyer. I was frozen at the top of the stairs, my gaze glued to the crying blonde. "Please, let me go."

My father continued to ignore her, just gave a sharp yank to the girl's wrist that had her stumbling forward to the floor at his heels. Papi almost seemed offended at this and all I could do was watch, horrified, as he pulled the blonde to her feet and backhanded her swiftly across the face.

My gut wrenched and I visibly flinched before tearing my eyes away. I could hear pathetic pleas and whimpers as they disappeared into the depths of our home, an uncomfortable weight settling in the pit of my stomach.

I'd known Diego Lopez to do some stupid things in his life, but I never would have expected him to do something like this.

A girl. He'd brought home some random young girl to act as his personal servant. No, no servant wasn't the right word. We had plenty of those, and my father treated them decently enough. Our servants were paid. Ones that lived in the mansion had proper bedrooms and their jobs consisted of things like guarding the entrances, cleaning, and cooking.

This girl wasn't to be a servant. A twisting suspicion told me that he hadn't taken her to the East wing of the mansion, where the in-house servants resided. A twisting suspicion told me that he'd taken her down to the cellar.

She was to be his personal slave.

I felt tears pricking at my eyes before I could even think to bite them back. I was a bitch. Lord knew – and everyone else for that matter – that Santana Lopez was as fierce and ruthless as her infamous father. But I would never do something like this. I could barely fathom the idea of it. When did he sink this low? When had his agony become so unbearable that he felt the need to take it out on another human being? Did he honestly think that girl could replace my mother? Did he truly believe that she could give him what he needed?

Again, my phone buzzed within the depths of my jeans and I jumped, sniffling loudly before scurrying to my feet and rushing to my bedroom. My body sank onto the foot of my bed, so large no ordinary set of sheets could properly fit the mattress. All my life, we'd had servants make the custom bedding by hand, tailored specifically to the size of the mattress and to my own preferences. I'd assured my father that I had no need for such a large bed, but he'd insisted.

My fingers fumbled embarrassingly so as they tugged my phone from my pocket. It was another text message, this one from Quinn.

You going to Puck's tonight? He's throwing this party just for you, you know.

I groaned. I'd been upset at first that my father wasn't even going to acknowledge me today without me acknowledging him first. But what with the new addition to our household, I'd completely forgotten myself. Puck's party was the last thing on my mind right now.

I don't know, Q. Something just came up. Not so sure I want to leave tonight… -S

Quinn wouldn't like that. We hadn't been friends for long, but we'd clicked pretty instantaneously. She could keep up with my verbal abuse and shoot it back just as easily. She should have driven me batshit crazy, but surprisingly, I rather enjoyed our bitchy bantering. In the last couple years, we'd become each other's security blankets, and I knew she wouldn't be happy about having to attend Puck's party alone.

I couldn't help that I was far more interested in what was happening in my own home than in another one of Puck's silly parties.

Bitch.

I smiled at the insult. Quinn Fabray never swore, let alone used a curse in reference to another human being. I felt honored.

Skank. Shut up and go snatch that sparkle. I'll try to make it later. –S

I was pretty sure Puck would always put up an effort to hook up with me, but I was even more sure that he was getting his kicks somewhere else in the mean time. I was only a little sure that those kicks were found in my wholesome blonde friend, but it was fun to tease her anyway.

You shut up. I don't know what you're talking about… All joking aside, S, I want to see you at some point today. You need some lovin' and we all know you won't get it from your dad.

My lip curled in the smallest of snarls, and if I wasn't so annoyed, I might have actually appreciated Quinn's ability to take my mind off the little gift my father had purchased for himself, even if only momentarily. But she struck a nerve. Everyone knew my relationship with my dad was one of pure obligation. He gave me what I wanted, he gave me what he thought I wanted, and in turn, I was the doting, obedient daughter. There was nothing loving or affectionate about it. That wasn't my choice, and Quinn knew that.

No offense Quinn, but I'm not that into that. Zip your lips and go get your drink on. Like I said, I'll see what I can do. –S

With that, I flipped my phone onto silent and carelessly threw it to the head of my bed. It became lost somewhere in the thrall of pillows and I sighed, relieved. Normally, my phone was my lifeline, but right now, it was nothing but a nuisance.

In the heavy silence of my bedroom, I stared up at the ceiling and let my mind wander back to the unfortunate blonde who was now in the possession of Diego A. Lopez. I wondered where he found her, by what means the girl had found herself in a position to even become somebody else's property. I wondered if she had a family, and if they would miss her. I wondered what she was doing now, what she was thinking. I wondered if she would last as long as my father's parakeet, or if she would give up, as the bird had.

I entertained the thought of going down to the cellar. I wondered if anyone was guarding the door. But then, why would they? It was a cellar, after all. Multiple barred cells had laid empty down there for decades, but I was perfectly certain that my dad had always known the whereabouts of the keys to each of the cell doors. Just in case. If that was, in fact, where he'd taken her, then there would be no need for someone to guard the cellar door. She wouldn't be able to get out. And it wasn't like anyone would come looking for her here.

At least, I figured no one would.

Suddenly, my eyes flicked over to my own bedroom door, seriously contemplating my options. I could simply ignore her. I could pretend she didn't exist and continue living my dull life until I turned eighteen and would be legally allowed to leave. That would have been the easier route, no question.

But somewhere down beneath my feet sat a scared girl. An innocent human being who probably didn't deserve the fate she'd been dealt. Yes, I was a bitch, but even I wasn't that heartless. My stomach clenched with sympathy for her, knowing that if my assumptions about my father's intentions were correct, she would endure the worst kind of turmoil.

Could I really just sit back and act like I knew nothing of it?

I hadn't even realized that, during my ponderings, I'd practically chewed a hole through my bottom lip.

No, I couldn't just sit here and do nothing.

If nothing else, I at least needed to satisfy my own curiosity and go down there. I at least needed to find out who she was, where she'd come from. How she'd ended up here.

And maybe I was wrong. Maybe she wasn't in the cellar. Perhaps my father had simply taken her to the kitchen, or perhaps the garden, before escorting her to the East wing. Maybe she really would just become a regular, boring servant, just like all the others.

My hopes that this was true were really quite minimal as I stood from my bed and slowly made my way back to the grand staircase.

I'd been enough of a rude hellion to all my father's servants throughout my years that most of them didn't bother me when we passed each other in the halls. They merely dropped their gazes and kept walking. Some were brave enough to nod politely in my direction before going about their business. But I certainly liked it this way. There was only so much I could talk about to a person who had been serving in my household for more years than I could count on my fingers.

I made it through the kitchen easily enough, grabbing an apple along the way to make myself look as though I had a purpose other than the real one. Back behind the kitchen was what was now used as a servant's corridor. I hadn't been back here in probably ten years. It had been Puck's idea, to explore parts of the mansion that we'd never really bothered with before. It hadn't changed much at all. A little dustier, but just as drab.

I paused when I realized that there was, in fact, someone standing guard in front of the cellar door. I cursed beneath my breath, turning the ripe red apple between my fingers as I wondered how best to proceed. I recognized the man immediately as William. One of my father's newer servants, but notably loyal. I figured he wouldn't be too hard to dupe.

"Will, right?" I asked with confidence as I approached him, even though I already knew.

He looked startled to see me, or perhaps he was just astounded that I was addressing him personally. It was a rare occurrence, after all. It took him a few seconds to recompose himself and I had to fight the urge to scoff at his incompetence.

"Yes, Miss. What can I do for you?"

"Listen, Will. Did Papi bring a girl down here?" I asked casually, as if I really didn't care either way. "About yay high-" I gestured accordingly with my hand. "Blonde hair. Legs for days."

William nodded, but didn't say anything.

"Right, about that," I spoke, dropping my voice as if I were getting ready to divulge secret information. "Papi wants to see you. Says he has some specific requests. But Berry was supposed to deliver the message and she got intercepted by that airhead, Pils-something, so I told her I'd tell you. So whatever you do, don't tell Papi I gave you this message, okay? We wouldn't want Berry getting in trouble."

William looked utterly confused but nodded his head eagerly. I figured he'd understood enough to realize that he wasn't supposed to include my name in anything, and that was all that mattered. Sure, that annoying little Rachel girl would probably get a scathing lecture in obedience, but I didn't really mind. She talked too much anyway.

When William failed to move, I raised my eyebrows expectantly at him.

"Well? You're not going to keep Papi waiting, are you?"

This seemed to jerk the man to his senses, and without a word, he dashed off in the direction of the kitchen.

I waited a minute or two, glancing carefully down both ends of the hallway to make sure no one was coming before I reached for the knob on the cellar door.

As soon as the old wood creaked open, the smell hit my nostrils and I cringed. It wasn't an outright gross smell. It wasn't like there were rotting corpses down there. But it was certainly dank. It simply smelled old, and dusty. I imagined no one had been down here in years. It was an old house, built during the time of the Civil War. Most sections of the mansion had been restored, but of course, what with the end of slavery and all, there had been no reason to renovate the cellar. We had no use for it.

At least, not until now.

I quietly closed the door behind me, before descending the stone steps carefully and with a silent precision. That same heaviness from before settled into the pit of my abdomen, had the hairs on my arms rising. I hated this feeling. Like I was walking into some cheesy horror film. But unfortunately, this was real. This dark, awful dungeon was real, and it was a part of my home. And somewhere down here sat a girl.

A girl whose quiet cries were already meeting my sensitive ears.

Most of the light in the cellar came from the barred holes at the top of the farthest wall. One above each cell. I'd never noticed them from the outside before, but now I was curious. I'd definitely have to go looking for them later. They were too high to reach from in here, though, and I was a little surprised by how big it actually was down here. The walls were made of dark, old bricks, the ceilings vaulted, but not in that fancy, expensive way. On the wall opposite the cells hung several lanterns. Fucking lanterns. It was like walking down those stairs had transported me to whole different time period. One where cell phones and mohawks and fruity alcohol didn't exist.

My steps were cautious now and I wondered why I felt the need to be silent. There were no more servants down here. No more guards to hide from. Just the steady sounds of the girl's sniffles and whimpers. She wasn't in the first cell, nor the second. I inched closer to the third and recognized the long blonde curls, the lithe body that was curled up against the back wall of her cell. Her knees were drawn up to her chest, her arms wrapped around them and her face buried in her arms. She couldn't see me. She hadn't even realized she was no longer alone.

And as she continued to cry in the silence, I felt my heart shatter inside my chest.

I realized then that I would do anything I could to help her, even if I knew it wouldn't be much.

It would never be enough.

"Hello," I said softly, standing there in front of her cell, my hands hanging useless at my sides.

The girl gasped, startled by the single word and her head snapped up.

I saw, for the first time, how beautiful and broken her glistening blue eyes were.

Seventeen years ago today, my mother died. This quivering girl was my father's sympathy gift to himself.

Suddenly, the fact that my father had forgotten to wish me a "happy birthday" seemed like the least important thing in the world.