Brittany rushed through the front door of her and Santana's apartment, closely followed by Sam, Finn and Rachel, who had insisted they come with her, worried about the state she was in, as well as what had happened to Santana. They hadn't gotten much out of Brittany after she hung up her phone. Just the words; 'Ben, Santana, kidnapped..' And they had put the rest together. It wasn't hard to work out what had happened judging by the way Brittany's face morphed into a pained expression- and the mention of Santana's ex made everyone shiver. To say things ended badly between the two would be an understatement. Santana had dated him in high school, when she was going through her 'bitch phase' before she had realised who she was, before she admitted that she was in love with Brittany.

She had met Ben at an overage party, which she had snuck in to with a fake I.D Quinn had gotten her. He was a bad boy, which is what drew the rebellious, young Latina in. He was 21 when she met him, she was 16.

Brittany stopped dead in the door way. The apartment was trashed. Chairs were turned over, plates in the kitchen lay smashed on the ground, photo frames hung crooked on the walls.
"Oh my god" Brittany stuttered, putting her hands up to her mouth. She walked around the apartment, hoping to find Santana somewhere, hoping this was all some sort of sick joke. But she knew she wouldn't find her, she knew it was real. Santana wouldn't have joked about Ben. Not after what had happened.
Not after everything they had been through.

Brittany was finding it hard to stand up. Her legs were shaking, her head was spinning. She felt sick to her stomach. She wanted to throw up and scream and cry, all at the same time.
Instead, she leaned against the wall, putting her head in her hands. She had to think of what to do next, but she couldn't think straight. Sam placed his hand gently, but firmly on her shoulder.

"Brit, we've called the police. They're on their way" he said calmly. "Come sit down" Brittany shook her head. Even if she wanted to sit, her legs wouldn't move her. Finn and Rachel returned from searching the house.

"She defiantly isn't here" Rachel said grimly, proving their suspicions. Brittany closed her eyes, shaking her head slowly.

"This cannot be happening" she whispered to herself, but loud enough for everyone to hear it. There was a knock on the door, startling them all.

"I'll get it" Finn said softly. He left the room, and when he returned he was leading two police officers into the messy lounge room where the others were gathered around Brittany, who was still leaning against the wall looking small and lifeless.

"Brittany Pierce?" The elder police officer asked as he approached the group. He looked as though he was in his early forty's. He had a kind face, with plump, pink cheeks. He took his hat off, his short, black hair was carefully combed back neatly. It reminded Brittany of how Blaine used to wear his hair, full of his strawberry scented hair gel.

"Yes, this is Brittany" Rachel stepped in after a short silence. The policeman nodded, pulling out a note pad from his top pocket.

"I'm going to have to ask you a few Questions Brittany, is that okay?" He had a deep voice, that didn't seem to match his kind face somehow. Brittany nodded, feeling light headed again.

"Maybe we should sit down" The policeman suggested, noticing Brittany didn't seem too stable. He gently put his arm on her forearm and carefully led her to the faded blue sofa which Brittany and Santana shared many memories on. She closed her eyes again, trying to fight back tears and allowed the police officer to lead her there. The others followed in silence, not knowing what to do or say to make Brittany feel better. They knew that nothing would help her unless it was news that Santana was back… Or at least, news as to where she could have gone. But they didn't have any of the answers, so they kept their mouths shut.

"Now Brittany" the elder policeman began after they were settled on the couch. "I'm Constable Adam Cook, and this is Officer Sanchez" he said, nodding towards the female officer standing in front of them. She was younger, maybe in her mid-20's. She had short, dark red hair which hung just above her shoulders.

"Brittany, I know it's hard, but we have to ask you a few questions" the female officer finally spoke. She had a strong British accent which Brittany liked the sound of. Brittany swallowed.

"Okay" she managed to say. Officer Sanchez smiled warmly at her.

"We need you to tell us what happened" Constable Cook resumed. "Every little detail, even if you don't think it's important." He hovered a pen over the note pad he was still holding, waiting for Brittany to talk. She told them about how Santana had been on the phone before she went missing, and what she had said when she called.

"Do you know which room she was in when you were on the phone to her?" Constable Cook asked as Brittany finished talking. Brittany shook her head and the police man scribbled something in his pad. "If you don't mind, Officer Sanchez and I are going to take a quick look around and see what we can find. See if we can find any clues." Brittany opened her mouth to talk, but couldn't find the power to speak the words, so instead she closed her mouth and nodded numbly. The two police officers left the room quietly speaking softly amongst themselves. Rachel took a seat next to Brittany, putting her arm around her broad dancers' shoulders. They sat in silence until the Officers arrived back in the room half an hour or so later.

"Is this Santana's phone?" Officer Sanchez asked, holding up the familiar black flip phone which was usually permanently attached to Santana. Brittany had never known her not to go anywhere without that thing. It was her life line, so to see it in the room without Santana upset Brittany and added to the realisation that something had happened to Santana. Something bad.

"Brittany, we need to know who Ben is" Brittany looked up suddenly at the mention of the name.

"Why?" Her eyebrows furrowed slightly as she remembered Santana's pleading voice on the phone about telling the Police about him.

"Because there are numerous messages and phone calls from him on Santana's phone" the red head said slowly. Brittany looked up, confused.

"There can't be. She would have told me he was talking to her again" she said simply. "I would have known. It cannot be possible. I would have known something was wrong- She wouldn't have lied to me…" Brittany trailed off, and Rachel's arm tightened around her shoulders.

"I'm sorry, but it's true. They date back to several weeks ago. Some of them are quite threatening." A dull silence filled the room. "He could be the link to all of this Brittany" the young Officer added. Brittany nodded. She couldn't keep her mouth shut, especially when she could help find Santana. She had to find Santana.

"Ben is Santana's ex" she started softly, blinking back tears. "She met him when she was 16, at some party. I don't really know what she saw in him. Santana was like that though; you never really knew what she was doing. Which is why she did it, I guess. She liked to keep people guessing…" She paused slightly before continuing.
"He seemed nice to begin with," She admitted reluctantly. "But then he turned… Weird… He started showing up to her house unexpectedly at weird hours of the night, he started being really protective about her. He wouldn't let anyone else hang out with her. He refused to let us be alone together. He took her phone off her so that she couldn't talk to anyone but him… And then he got… Violent. And she stayed with him. I guess she got scared… Which isn't like Santana. So for her to have been scared means it was bad. Like—Really bad. She doesn't really talk about it much. At all infact…" Brittany stopped, looking up and seeing Finn and Sam sitting in the corner quietly. "He threatened her, that if she left he would kill her" she took a big gulp. "And then she got pregnant…" She looked down at her hands in her lap, unable to look anyone in the eye. "And he made her kill it. He gave her drugs to kill it. But she didn't want to, he forced her too. And then she finally realised she had to get away. She moved schools, changed her number, she came to live with me so that he couldn't find her. And for a while it worked—and she got happier. It took a while, but I helped her through it. We all did" she nodded in the general direction of her friends.
Constable Cook put down his pen.

"I think we know enough. We have his number on Santana's phone. We will find him" he said reassuringly. But Brittany didn't real reassured. She felt terrible. She was the only one who knew just how bad Santana had been after the relationship finally ended.
She had been the one who put her to bed every night, who woke up to her screaming in the middle of the night after having one of her nightmares. She was the one who talked her into going to see a councillor and who went with her to every session. She was the one who held her hand on what would have been the anniversary of her unborn baby's birthday. She was the one who picked her up at 3 in the morning after Santana went out drinking with Quinn, and who showered her after she threw up from drinking too much after she had just wanted to forget, for at least a few hours.
She had been there through the lot of it. Through thick and thin, no matter how bad it was. And it got better. It took a while, but it did get better. She soon started sleeping through the whole night, and stopped going out drinking, started going to University, became a nurse. She realised that you only live one, that life is important and that she had so much to prove.
Brittany was proud of her. More proud than Santana would ever know. Santana had always been strong, even at her weakest moment, she was still stronger than anyone Brittany knew.

She couldn't let Santana go through that again.
She had to find her, even if it was the last thing she did. There was no way Santana would make it through that again. She had only just made it through the first time. Brittany could not bear to see it happen again. She could not let it happen again. She loved Santana too much to let her suffer again.
She had to find her.