This chapter is to provide a little clarity as to how Brittany got her scar. If you remember from the Sam chapter, he pulls up to the lot and all the group members have been injured and Brittany is bleeding from her abdomen. Here's a look at what happened. Hope you all enjoy and please review!

fic 3 chap 8

Santana followed Puck closely into his house, followed by Brittany and Artie just behind. She could smell the smoke and they set about the house, searching for the source. Brittany and Santana took towards the kitchen while Puck headed for the basement and Artie to the bedroom. Sinister thoughts still whirled in Santana's mind. Where is she? Where is Sam? Where could Finn have taken her? Will she come back? Sam will be crushed. How do I even look at Sam after this? The thoughts fired through her head a mile a minute, and with each new and terrifying one she squeezed Brittany's hand a little bit tighter. As they quickly realized there was no fire in the kitchen, the pair made their way back towards the living room. As Santana rounded the corner and saw Artie sprawled unconscious on the floor and Puck locked in a heated grapple with a man twice his size, Santana realized what was happening: another set up. Santana spun on her heels to tell Brittany to find cover, but her arms were firmly seized by two hulking henchmen. The red headed beast on her left nodded to his blonde, mo-hawked partner that had her right arm,
"Hold tight," he growled, "she's not going to like this." And Santana quickly realized what his words had foreshadowed as Brittany was sent cartwheeling into view as the elbow of a hefty bald man collided sharply with her cheekbone. Spry as ever, Brittany sprang to her feet and turned to face her attacker, but before she could let fly with a fist, the giant that had been wrestling Puck locked his meaty hands firmly around her wrists and cranked them behind her back. Santana's panicked eyes flitted to where Puck had been battling only moments ago to see him now bloodied and blacked out on the floor near Artie. When Santana returned her gaze to Brittany, the mammoth holding her had turned them so the blonde faced her lover, and her worried blue eyes were locked on Santana's face. Santana held her gaze, never letting her steel facade break; she had to be strong for Brittany.
"Isn't that just touching?" Santana heard the lazy voice emanating from the entryway to the kitchen. Finn Hudson walked lazily toward them, an apple in one hand and a large, glinting knife in the other. He sliced off a large chunk of fruit and popped it into his mouth, chewing slowly and smiling contently as he appraised the two women.
"Look at how much they love each other. Melts your heart, doesn't it boys?" the two holding Santana and the brute chaining Brittany smirked and chuckled. "Speaking of hearts," he continued, setting the apple down on a coffee table as he walked past it, closer to the two struggling women, "I've heard that Brittany has a pretty big one. An assassin with a heart. Just doesn't make sense to me." Finn circled in front of Brittany, and Santana could see the blonde set her jaw and stare daggers at Finn as he gazed at her. As she watched, Santana realized she was sweating. At first she thought it was from fear, but she soon realized that the heat was radiating out from her feet. The fire is in the basement. She had no sooner thought then she heard floorboards begin to moan and hiss under the fiery assault beneath them. We've got to get out of here. This whole place is going to come in on itself.
"I just can't seem to believe, that someone that does the work that you do, can have a heart as kind, and pure as they say you do." Finn mocked, prodding his index finger into Brittany's sternum. "So, I decided i wanted to see for myself." He continued. Upon these words, he moved his hand down Brittany's front to the bottom of her shirt. Grabbing the hem, he lifted upward, rolling the fabric up and positioning it atop the ridge of Brittany's breasts, so that it wouldn't fall down.
"Get away from her!" Santana screamed, and immediately began to struggle against her captors' hands. She pulled with all her might, every muscle in her body revealing itself in her strain, but the two men only gripped tighter. As Santana lunged and jerked, the floor beneath her made its protests known with a loud "pop" and Finn snapped towards her.
"Sit tight, Santana. It won't take long. Don't want to be here when this place comes down, after all." With that, Finn drew the flank of his knife over Brittany's chest, down between her breasts, and Santana watched as she shivered against the cool, smooth metal and the way her ribcage expanded and died rapidly with her panicked breathing.
"Well, lets see..." Finn contemplated, "I don't want to ruin this perfect chest. Congrats on that, Santana, by the way. So, I'll go in here." He placed the point of his knife on the soft flesh just below Brittany's left ribcage. "Now, just hold still for me." And he pressed down.
"NOOOO! NO!" Santana's screams were ear piercing and her voice ripped and rattled in her throat. Brittany's screams matched her own as Finn dragged the knife across the protesting and spasming abdominal muscles, towards the center of her stomach and a thin, crimson line began to form in its wake. With all the fury of Hell, Santana raged against the henchmen. She gave one swift pull of her left hand, and was miraculously freed. The heat radiating from beneath the floor had caused her captors hands to sweat, and her skin slipped from his grasp. Without missing a beat, Santana's arm continued its forward motion and she stiffened her hand, fingers straight and together, leading with the heel of her palm. She thrust forward and up, sending the splintering bones of the bulky red head's nose rocketing up into his brain and he was dead before he hit the floor. Out of pure instinct, she ducked, and was glad she did upon seeing the other man's large fist barely skim over her head. Wasting no time, she swept her leg, bringing him crashing to the ground, and in one smooth swipe she had unsheathed the knife from her left boot and buried it in his forehead.
And then the screaming came back to her ears.
She turned, and the guard holding Brittany now had one hand holding her wrists together and the other wrapped firmly around her upper torso, trying to hold her still as her body wrenched against Finn. He continued to cut, paying no attention to Santana, and the wound was growing deep, as he restarted his incision, worming the blade into the already open wound, wriggling it deeper, Brittany's animal screams becoming louder and more uncontrolled with each vicious stroke.
Santana rocketed herself towards Finn, fists clenched, ready to destroy. And at the last second, his knife clattered to the floor and he spun, and his fist collided directly with her mouth. She felt herself fall backwards and her collision with the floor knocked the wind out of her, but she immediately began to scramble to her feet. However, she hadn't gotten far when Finn's sneering face loomed over her body, foot on her chest, and his fist plummeted towards her, connecting with her cheekbone and sending her world into an explosion of light.
Santana could smell the smoke. She could feel the heat hot on her back. She could taste the bitter, rusty taste of blood pooled in her mouth. But she could hear Brittany's voice. Though it was ragged, and hollow, she could hear it.
"Santana...San-ugh." She heard brittle, whining breaths, squeaking near her ear, and she smelled Brittany's familiar, blossomy scent mixed with the smoke. It was like standing near a burning bed of lilies. She felt the hands on her shoulders,
"Santana. Wake up. Santana." Her eyes opened and the bleary figure before her was all blonde hair and blue eyes.
"B..." She muttered, not sure if it was only in her head or if she had managed to gurgle something intelligable around the thick, crimson swamp in her mouth.
But the yelling got louder all the same.
"Santana! Wake up!"

"SANTANA!" Brittany hollered, playfully peering into Santana's face as she shook the sleeping brunette's shoulders.
"San, wake up! You fell asleep on me, and I think my vagina has gone to sleep. I love you, but pleeeaaasseee move!" Brittany giggled as she looked down at the baffled Latina. Santana felt the smooth skin of Brittany against her own body. The blossomy smell was there, but there was no smoke. The heat was there, but it was the gentle warmth from Brittany's body. The scar was there, but there was no blood. But Finn Hudson was still there. He was in the cruel edges of that scar. He was in the way Brittany jerked and whimpered in her sleep. He was in the way she winced when she stretched or took a deep breath. And he was in every one of Santana's deepest, darkest nightmares.