Author's Note: Thanks for alerting my story and putting it on your favourites list. You guys are all kinds of , I should warn you that there's some offensive language and slurs this chapter so I'm sorry if that makes you uncomfortable.
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or the characters used.
Santana decided to make her way home after the blonde stranger had left the park. She was lost in her thoughts, thinking about the blonde and her bright smile and those eyes—those damn beautiful, clear blue eyes. She was thinking about how someone she didn't even know could lift up her spirits a little. The world can be pleasantly surprisingly sometimes.
Before she knew it, she was walking up the path to the front door of her large house. She had always loved her house and not only because the size thanks to her father's pay checks that he gets from being one of Lima's respected doctors.
The house is where she doesn't have to face any societal pressures. It's a place where she could be (mostly) herself. Here she's not co-captain of the Cheerios, one of the popular people and where popularity isn't important- here, she's just Santana. It's where she likes to curl up on the couch in front of the fire during the winter and where she can lie in her daggy, old sweatpants and sweatshirt while watching Jersey Shore or yelling at the t.v. during sports games with her dad.
It's home.
But now? Now the size is nothing but daunting. Instead of the comfort she normally feels when she pulls into the driveway after school, she feels dread. She's dreading seeing her parents, dreading what they might possibly say to her and most of all… dreading the moment they push her out of the only home she's ever known aside from her grandmother's.
Taking a shaky breath, she opens her door and takes a tentative step into the foyer. Before she could even close the door fully and take off her shoes, she hears her mother calling out to her.
"Mija?"
She could hear her mother's soft-padded footsteps on the carpet, coming toward her before she fully saw her from the lounge room doorway.
"Mija, thank goodness you're okay," her mother then quickly stepped forward to wrap Santana up in a warm embrace.
"Where have you been? You had me so worried!" she said as she pulled Santana back to check her body for any physical damage as if she had just come back from battling the wild.
"Mami, I'm fine, don't worry… I'm sorry for worrying you."
"Oh honey, it's okay, you're here now," she said as she pulled Santana back in for another hug before taking her into the lounge room. "Come, let's sit down and talk."
"Please don't hate me," Santana blurted out as they sat down.
Her mother looked shocked to hear those words come out of her daughter's mouth.
"What, why? What makes you think that? Why would I hate you?"
"Well, you didn't say anything when I told you and dad that I was… gay," she trailed off softly and stared at her hands in her lap.
Her mother's heart broke at her daughter's dejected voice. Had their stunned silence really made her doubt their love for her?
"Santana, no. I don't hate you—we don't hate you, we could never hate our daughter."
"Then why? Why didn't you say anything? Why did papi just dismiss me and lock himself in the study?"
Her mother sighed, "It's complica—"
"How is it complicated?" Santana said, cutting her off and getting frustrated. "Are you going to kick me out because I'm gay? Are you guys afraid of me now like I'm carrying some sort of disease?" she said, her voice rising.
"Santana, you will lower your voice," her mother said sternly. "I know you misunderstood our reaction earlier but you need to calm down and let me talk."
Santana took a breath and nodded. "I'm sorry, you're right," she said softly.
Her mother just put an arm around her shoulder and pulled her into her side. "It's okay mija, you're just upset," she said as she rubbed her arm. After being silent for a minute or two, her mother spoke, "Let me tell you a story," she said.
"A story? About what?" Santana asked.
"It'll help you understand why your father and I reacted the way we did, just remember that we don't hate you and that we very much still love you, okay?"
"Okay, mami," she relented.
"Good," her mother replied as she started absently stroking her hair. "You already know that your father and I grew up together, yes?"
"Si, mami."
"Well, there was this boy that grew up on the same street that your father and I lived on, he was younger than us by a year or two," she continued. "Neither of us knew him well but he often watched us play games with other neighborhood kids."
"Your father and I were walking home one day from school and there was this shortcut through an alleyway that we'd always take. On that particular day when we turned into alleyway, we saw what it seemed to be a group of boys involved in a scuffle but as we walked closer we realised it was actually a group of boys ganging up on that same boy from our neighborhood."
"When we realised what was happening, your father decided to run towards the group and try to get them to back off..."
"Hey! Get off him! What the hell do you guys think you're doing?" A young Federico Lopez yelled as he grabbed for flailing arms and pulled them off the beaten boy before standing protectively in front of him and staring down the three assailants as a young Maribel crouched down beside the battered boy, checking if he was okay.
Federico could tell that they weren't that much younger than him, maybe grade or two below him. Federico was a high school sophomore and was good enough to be on the varsity football team because of his build and speed. He was slightly taller than the average sophomore, naturally lean although recent football practices and training added a bit of extra muscle. He wasn't a fighter but he figured they would back off and leave if he looked intimidating enough.
"Who the hell are you?" one of the guys spat. "What we do isn't any of your business so fuck off!"
"Not any of my business? You three were ganging up on him!" he growled back.
"So what? He deserves it!" this time a different guy shouted, taking a step forward.
"What did he do to deserve getting beat up, huh?" Federico questioned as he assumed a defensive stance in case one of them made a move.
"He's a fucking faggot, that's what! He has what's coming to him!" the last guy spoke up and he, too, stepped forward.
Realising that this could get out of hand really fast, Federico needed to diffuse the situation or at least avoid it somehow.
"Believe what you want but I suggest you guys back off and leave," he said calmly as he could.
"Why are you even sticking up for the little fag?" the first boy asked angrily.
"I'm sticking up for him because I'm not closed minded like you assholes, outnumbering him," he said evenly as he took a step towards the trio. "You better leave him alone and back off before I get angry and make you regret you were born," he said, taking another slow step forward as his expression hardened.
At this point Federico was having a glaring match with the boys as they stood there, unsure but unwilling to move and give up.
"Leave," he said again "Now!" he bellowed in their faces when they refused to leave.
Startled by the loud yell, the boys look at each other. "Let's go, the fag isn't worth it anyway," one of them said, nudging the other two to start walking and shot Federico and the boy a sneer.
When he saw them turn the corner and leave the alleyway, Federico let his shoulders relax as he breathed a sigh of relief, "Dios mio, that was close." Remembering Maribel and the boy, he turned around and crouched down beside them to check on him.
"Is he okay?" Federico asked Maribel as he nodded towards the boy.
"He's a little roughed up and in shock but he has some scratches, a few bruises and a split lip from what I can see but he should be fine," she answered.
"Alright, let's help him up and get him home," he said while grabbing one of the boy's arms and putting it around his shoulders as he gently picked the boy up to support him against his side.
They started making their way towards the exit of the alleyway by their street albeit slowly with the young boy being unable to walk at a normal pace due to his injuries. They were making their way down the street when the boy finally spoke up.
"Thank you, you didn't have to do that you know," he said softly.
"I know but it was wrong, what they were doing; they shouldn't beat someone up just because they're gay," Federico replied. "I was taught not to judge and that God loves his children, it's a shame that they weren't taught that." He looked down to the boy looking back up at him, tears in his eyes.
When they arrived at the boy's house, Federico made sure he could stand before letting him go.
"Thank you again, for stopping them. I don't want to think of what could have happened if you two hadn't shown up…"
"You're welcome and don't worry about it. Just let me know if they bother you again, okay?" Federico replied as he turned and took Maribel's hand to leave.
"Wait! What are your names?" he called out.
Federico turned around and smiled. "Federico, Federico Lopez and she's Maribel," he said nodding to the girl beside him.
"I'm Hiram Berry, thank you again Federico and Maribel," he waved goodbye.
"You're welcome, kid," Federico grinned as he took Maribel's hand. "Come join in the games the next time you see us."
"Wait, wait," Santana interrupted. "Did you say Berry? The boy papi saved was named Berry?"
"Hiram Berry, yes, he works with your father now at the hospital," Maribel confirmed. "Why do you ask?"
"Cause I know someone with the last name Berry and she goes to my school," Santana said.
"Your father did tell me Hiram married a nice man and had a daughter about your age," her mother said thoughtfully.
Now this just made Santana feel guilty. Her father stood up for Rachel Berry's dad against bullies and she partakes in the bullying against her everyday. Even though most of her cruel jokes and names were tailored more to Rachel's fashion sense and her attitude, it was still bullying and Santana was starting to feel bad.
"So what I'm trying to say mija," her mother continued. "We're not afraid of you but we're afraid for you," she said. "We know what could happen if people aren't accepting like us. We just don't want you to get hurt. You're growing up but you're still our little girl," she finished as she pulled Santana into a hug.
"I'll be okay, mami. I know Lima isn't very accepting but I'll be okay," Santana said. "I can take care of myself because I'm from Lima Heights Adjacent, no one messes with Santana Lopez," She said haughtily.
Maribel sighed. "Santana, we don't live in Lima Heights Adjacent, your abuela does. Stop trying to be thug."
"Details, details," Santana said with a wave of her hand. "I spend so much time at abuela's house that it's like a second home to me. I'm badass either way, mami," Santana said with a smirk.
"Whatever you say mija," her mother chuckled. "It's getting late, why don't you head up to bed; don't you have plans with Quinn tomorrow?" she asked.
Oh crap. Santana had forgotten all about her plans to hang out with Quinn, she hadn't made up her mind about her coming out to Quinn or not. She sighed. She'll figure it out tomorrow, she was tired after being worn out emotionally from the day's dramas.
"Oh, yeah I do," Santana said to her mother. "I'll head up to bed now… thanks mami, for you know, accepting me and still loving me," she said sheepishly as she hugged the older Lopez.
"Always, mija. We'll always love you," her mother hugged her back and kissed the side of her head.
After getting ready and slipping into her bed, she just laid on her back staring at her ceiling in the dark reflecting on her day. All in all, her coming out went well. She didn't have a chance to talk to her dad yet as his study room door was still closed and she didn't want to bother him, she just decided to talk to him before she headed to Quinn's tomorrow.
Speaking of her dad, she was reminded of how badass he was when protecting Hiram Berry. She really did feel bad about picking on Rachel Berry now that she knew about this. She wonders how her dad would react if he found out she was doing the same thing those boys were- picking on someone because they were different, because of who they were. He would be disappointed in her. Santana sighed, she'll have to make amends somehow... which would be kind of hard considering how annoying she found Rachel Berry sometimes- actually, a lot of the time.
Closing her eyes and rolling onto her side, slowly succumbing to sleep; her last conscious, fleeting thought was of a certain blonde haired stranger with clear, ocean-blue eyes.
Author's Note: Review and let me know how I'm doing and all that jazz.
Thanks for reading, Grilled Cheesus out.
