Again, thanks to mamatots for all her great advice and help with this story. I'm having fun brainstorming ideas and writing this! Please leave me a review telling me what you think! Thanks for reading.

Chapter 2 – The Regret

Santana didn't know how many days she'd been in captivity, or what time of day it was, because they were underground. She had been moved to another room with a cot and a desk and chair. She woke up from her skewed form of sleep and started to yawn, but winced when a sharp pain spread from her cheek. She brought her hand up to touch the bruise that resided there. Her dulled eyes closed again for a moment before she slowly sat up, pain coursing through every inch of her body. She wanted to stand up, but her legs wouldn't allow her to do so. The pain in her groin was too much. She wanted to cry but she had lost all her tears after her mother had been killed.

She regretted many things now that she was alone in the world. There were so many things she wished she could have told her parents before the world ended and certainly before her mother's murder. She put her face in her hands and breathed slowly.

- Flashback –

"Wanna play some pool?" Asked a girl with long brown hair and brown eyes.

Santana blushed and looked down. Why was she blushing in front of a girl? "Um, I don't really play much…I'm not too great."

The girl shrugged, "I'll help you. C'mon, it'll be fun!"

"I don't even know you," Santana laughed. The girl offered her hand.

"Zoe," the brown-eyed girl smiled warmly, "and you are?"

"Santana," the Latina said cautiously, feeling her stomach flutter.

"So, are we playing or what?" Zoe offered her a pool cue. Santana took the cue and stood off to the side and Zoe set up the balls in their triangular form on one end of the table. When she was done, she looked back to Santana. "Do you want to break?"

"I don't think I can…" Santana shook her head with a chuckle.

Zoe motioned her over to the opposite end of the table where the white cue ball sat. Santana slowly moved to that end and stood at the edge of the table. Zoe set her own cue aside and moved to stand behind Santana's small frame. Santana shivered when the brunette pressed against her.

"Here, hold the cue like this," Zoe wrapped her arms around Santana and positioned her hands properly. "And make sure you stay low…so you have a good line to the tip of the triangle," Zoe said into her ear.

Santana couldn't focus on what Zoe was saying, she only knew that Zoe was whispering in her ear. What was she doing? "Like this?"

"Like that," Zoe nodded. "Now, all you have to do is draw back, and shoot hard."

Santana did so and the white ball shot over and broke apart the fifteen colored balls, spreading them throughout the table.

"You did it!" Zoe smiled, puling back as Santana grinned with pride.

"Thanks! I couldn't have done it without you."

Zoe smiled and shook her head, "Nah, that was all you. You're awesome."

Was Santana really flirting with a girl?

- End Flashback –

Oh, how she wished she could have told her mother and father about her sexuality. That was her biggest regret. And even though she didn't know if her father was dead, he might as well have been, with the war, and all. She didn't have much hope left to give. She just wished now that she could have sat them down together and told them how much she loved them. They were all she had.

Her head shot up towards the door when she heard a fist knock loudly on it a couple of times.

"Hey sweet cheeks, you awake in there?" She recognized the voice as one of the men who had taken her and her mother from their car. He unlocked the door and strode inside, his usual nasty grin on his face.

"Hugo wants to see you," he chuckled darkly. She knew what he wanted. She remained still, fear filling her eyes. "Are you deaf? Get up!" He ordered. She slowly stood, her legs stinging with pain, and walked towards him. He pushed her out into the hall first before following her towards Hugo's room. They walked through the hall and through the main area of the basement. Thugs from the gang hung about, playing cards, smoking, drinking, and drooling over Santana as she was led through. They whistled and hollered at her as the man pushed her through a large door and down another hall. One she had been down several times before.

They reached the end of the dim-lit hall and the man stopped Santana at the door. He knocked before speaking.

"I got her boss."

"Send her in!" Hugo called.

The man opened the door and pushed Santana inside before shutting the door behind her. Hugo's room was much nicer than the rest of the building. He sat behind a mahogany desk, the ever present cigar in his mouth, smiling creepily at her. The rest of the room was lavish with a nice couch and chair set, a mini bar, fully stocked, and a large bed, covered by a soft red comforter with black sheets. He stood up from his desk and walked over to her, leaving his half-smoked cigar burning in the ash tray. He cupped her cheek and stroked the bruise left from the day before.

"Have my men been a little rough with you?" He asked, a taunting sound in his voice. She avoided his green eyes at all costs, not saying anything. She closed her eyes as he inched closer, his unfamiliar hands grabbing her waist and pulling her in. He kissed her roughly, his tongue invading her mouth. She felt numb, powerless, and dead as he pushed her forcefully to the nearest wall. The pain in her body was enough to distract from what was really happening. She wanted to cry, she wanted to scream, but something was hindering her from doing anything.

Hugo pulled back and tugged off her shirt. Her body wasn't its usual tan glow, but a dull shade of olive grey. Not to mention her lack of proper nutrition had her looking much thinner as well. He kissed down her neck, biting roughly over her previous hickeys and bruises left from himself and the other men in the gang. His hands pulled at the clasp of her bra and tossed it away. She felt violated and exposed. Then again, with men, she always did. Her mind left the moment and went back to when things were almost normal.

- Flashback –

"Hey sexy," asked a mowhawked guy, a cocky smirk on his face.

"What do you want, Puckerman?" She asked, sipping the mixed beverage in her hand.

"You," he said into her ear over the blaring music. "I heard you play for the other team."

Her eyes flashed to his, "Who would tell you something crazy like that?"

He chuckled, "Is it true?"

Santana let out a fake laugh, taking a drink to mask her nervousness, "You're fucking joking right? You really think that I'm a lesbo?"

He smirked again and stepped closer, "Then why don't you prove me wrong?"

Santana looked up at him and licked her lips, her eyes darting between his eyes and his mouth. Then she pulled him in for a kiss. She could feel him smiling, but for her it felt fake. Phony.

He took her drink from her hand and placed it on the counter before dragging her towards the spare bedroom down the hall.

- End Flashback –

By now, Hugo had her naked and his pants were down. She was on her back on the bed and he was hovering over her. She felt him enter her roughly, causing her to wince in pain.

"Lucky for you, I'm sterile," he grunted in her ear as he thrust roughly in and out. At that moment she didn't want to live any more. She knew the rest of her life would consist of miserable fucking nights and days filled with unfamiliar faces and nobody to talk to. This was it. This is what it came to. She let her mind wander away as he continued, but he was interrupted by a tremor. Hugo stopped and looked around, "What the hell?"

The tremor grew and the room started shaking. Objects fell from his desk, bottles fell and broke off the shelf behind the bar. Hugo pulled out and zipped up his pants, hearing his men in a frenzy outside the door.

"Boss!" One man called, "There's aftershocks coming in from the bombings in Philadelphia!"

"Get dressed. And don't try anything." Hugo pointed at her as he moved for the door. The room continued to shake as Santana tried to process what was going on. Once she was alone she got up and, with much difficulty, redressed herself. Something in her mind was telling her to try and escape, but she knew that if she failed, she would die. One of the cabinets in the room fell and its contents fell to the floor. Among those contents, something that caught Santana's attention.

A gun.

Santana moved to pick it up and checked the ammo in the handgun. It had a full clip. She pursed her lips, remembering that her father had taught her how to use a gun when she was younger. He had let her come with him to the firing range one time, and she had asked him to teach her.

- Flashback –

"Papi, can I try?" A young Santana asked as she sat behind her father as he stood in the booth of the firing range, sound cancelling headphones over both of their ears.

The man turned around, pistol still in hand, and chuckled, "You want to learn?"

The 10 year old nodded giddily, "So some day I can protect myself from bad guys!"

The man set the gun down and walked over to sit by his daughter, removing both his and her ear protection. He put his arm around her, "That's my job!"

"Well what happens when I'm a grown up, and you aren't there?"

The question took Andre by surprise, then he smiled and patted her shoulder. "Okay," he stood up and put offered his hand, "You want to learn? I'll show you sweetheart."

- End Flashback –

Santana cocked the gun just as her father had taught her eight years ago. She moved for the door and listened for any voices. She heard voices in the distance, but none close by. Cautiously, she cracked open the door and slipped out into the hall. She hurried down towards the main room, trying to formulate a plan as she went. She cracked open the door to the main room and saw the area in a panic. Men rushed everywhere, trying to calm themselves as tremors came and went. Santana also knew she needed a vehicle. She looked around carefully through the crack in the door for any sign of car keys with any of the thugs in the room.

Then she saw it them, on the poker table in the middle of the room, the keys to one of two cars she had heard them talking about one day. She would have to find a way to get the keys and get out. A younger guy with blonde hair was standing near the door, trying to remain calm, he looked frightened. She recognized him as one of the new members of the gang. All the times she had seen him he had looked nervous and out of place and he had never taken advantage of her like the other animals who were there. Deciding he was her only chance, she made up her mind. She opened the door just enough to grab him and pull him inside, putting the gun to his head.

"What the fuck!" He started to shout. She hissed in his ear.

"Shut up and do what I say or I'll shoot you. There's a couple cars here, right?" She asked as another tremor shook the building.

"Y-yeah…a sedan and a Jeep. Both fully loaded…" His voice cracked in fear. She knew he would obey.

"Good. Are those the keys on the poker table out there?"

"Yes."

"I need you to get them for me. If you do, I'll get you out of here and take you with me. If you try anything, I'll kill you. And I have good aim too," Santana said, pressing the barrel of the gun into is temple.

"O-okay…I'll do it," he held his hands up in defense, "Just don't kill me!"

"Do you have any weapons on you?" She asked.

"No, check me if you want."

"I believe you. Is there any way to the other side of the main room without crossing?" She asked.

"Yes. I'll show you."

Gun still pointed, she watched him walk to another door in the hallway which led to a small staircase.

"If you go up you can go over on the main floor and back down on the other side," he said.

"You know where they're keeping me?" She asked, her adrenaline taking over.

"Yeah," he nodded.

"Meet me there with the keys in three minutes. I swear if you bring anyone or say anything, you're dead," she shook the gun at him.

"I won't. I'll be there." Something about him was honest. And she knew when someone was telling the truth or not. She nodded.

"Let's do this."