AN: So, this is like...turning point number one in the story. Thanks for the awesome reviews and favorites! They're always appreciated.
Chapter 9 | Perspectives
"She looks like she hasn't had a proper meal in a week."
"She's hasn't been going to classes either. I don't know what to do with her." I countered. I didn't, honestly. Santana had always been a handful of student.
To see her this raw, sitting there crying into Brittany's shoulder made my heart ache. I had a lot of students, I couldn't keep an eye on all of them. I couldn't be there for all of them no matter how hard I tried and I knew that. But this, this was different. This was Santana from Glee.
The Glee kids were a special case. They were my favorite students, regardless of how bad their Spanish grades were or whatever drama they were sharing each week. They were good. I saw it in every single one of them. They were good and strong and talented.
And I had failed one of them this week.
How had I just let this slip past me? I could always blame it on Santana. She's always been tough, hard to reach, hard to be around. She also never showed any weakness and on the rare occasions she did Brittany seemed to be there for her. Had I just expected Brittany to be there for Santana?
Had I just thought Santana was too much of a handful and too stubborn to approach? We all had seen the changes. Not just me. The kids in Glee. When she got kicked off the Cheerios and started coming to class in those ridiculous glasses the kids wore when they were drinking every night, I thought she was just partying too hard and would straighten out.
The truth of the matter was I needed to be brutally honest with myself. If Finn had come in like that or Rachel or Quinn or Artie, would I have done something?
Yes. I would have. I would have asked about them. Talked to them.
Sure, I had let Santana stay in my office one time but she had been so dismissive afterward. She had skipped class and I just figured she would snap at me and cause me more trouble than I needed. I had Glee and my Spanish classes and Booty camp and Emma and it was a lot of work.
The students came first though. I forgot that.
Now I had to live with this. Santana, this proud, strong individual reduced down to this frail person. She looked small, like a child.
Brittany was whispering to Santana. "She's awake?" I asked. I wanted to know what was wrong with her, what had happened. I wanted to fix what I hadn't fixed before. What I had been too busy to see. Emma, the nurse and I moved closer to her, but she wouldn't meet our eyes. She only had eyes for Brittany.
It wasn't really a secret they were close but lately things were different, they were distant from one another, almost like they were fighting. Whenever Santana was in Glee they didn't talk.
"What happened?" Santana asked quietly. I didn't know if her voice was gone or if she was just scared to talk.
"You fainted, San." Brittany told her about fainting in the choir room. The image of the young girl falling flashed in front of my eyes. It was always scary. As a teacher you do everything you can to make students reach their potential. To see them at their worst is almost too much.
Rachel had told me she saw I bruise. I wasn't sure how to handle it. I had planned on talking to her after class. Waiting for the opportune moment. I didn't know what it meant, honestly. I figured something was wrong, she had been acting strange but I had no idea Santana had become so fragile. She had gone over the deep end. She needed help. Adult help. She had needed my help and I had let her down.
She shot up quickly and all the color drained from her face. I put a firm hand on her and helped lower her back down. The nurse was talking to her but all I could concentrate on was how cold she felt to my touch. Like something had drained out of her.
Emma spoke. "Santana." Her voice was quiet, gentle. "I know that you're afraid right now, but we need to know what's wrong. Has someone been hurting you?" I knew Emma cared for these kids as much as I did.
Brittany and Santana had a connection I didn't fully understand. They were intimate and when Brittany asked Santana to talk to her I honestly felt like I was intruding. I backed away to give the girls room and I listened. Santana seemed to crumble before us. She sobbed hysterically and told us everything.
Her parents had kicked her out for being in love with Brittany. She had been living under the bleachers.
Her words punctured me. They sunk into my heart and sat there, weighing me down.
She had been living outside for a week and I hadn't taken the time to notice. My heart went out to her. She was in so much pain that it moved her physically. I couldn't help but blink away the tears that had formed in my eyes. Brittany held her and I leaned against the counter, looking at my shoes.
I had been so stupid.
"I don't know what to do with this." I said the words quietly to Emma. Santana was too far gone in her moment with Brittany to hear us talking about her.
"I know it's hard, but these are the realities of our world. Santana has been through a lot and we just need to be there for her." Emma was watching me closely.
I met her eyes and I felt my heart beat for her. "How, Em? What do we do here? Her parents don't want her. Do we call social services?" I didn't want social services to pull Santana away from school and Glee and all of her friends. It would be the opposite of what she needed. She needed to be bathed in our warmth and love for her, not moved to another random family.
I had a million thoughts swirling in my head. All I could think is how could someone ever throw their child out onto the streets. If Santana were my daughter...
Emma's hand on my arm pulled me back to our conversation. "Well, Santana is eighteen, but still, she's in school. I don't know what social services would do. Maybe the Pierce family could take her in."
I held Emma's eyes and I knew in that moment what needed to be done.
She had stopped crying. That was a good sign. Maybe she would talk to me now.
"Are you sure you're okay to talk, Santana?" I asked cautiously. I knew she had moved past the point of not being able to talk. She would have to let it out now.
She nodded, barely. It would have to do. Brittany was sitting with her, holding her hand and looking a little lost, as if she was about to lose something. Brittany really should have been in class but Santana was at a stage of great frailty. To send her away could make her panic and that would be detrimental. Brittany could soothe her and I knew she was the only one who could. This was going to be a hard conversation.
"How did you get your bruise?" It looked like it was old, healing, but it was still gruesome to see on such a young face. I had seen abused children before, though.
It never got easier.
I watched her closely. She looked like she was battling with herself internally. "It was my first night here. I couldn't see well and ran into a pole under the bleachers. Hurt like hell."
"Your father never hurt you when he kicked you out?"
Her demeanor changed when I asked the question. She became cold towards me. It was my job to ask these questions though.
"No, my dad didn't lay a hand on me." She locked eyes with me, determined to prove she wasn't lying. I held her gaze but there was something missing from her eyes. Maybe it was the complete lack of love she felt, or the fact she had been homeless for a week, or the fact that she was emotionally drained already, but there was something else there. Something deeper than this sadness.
She broke the contact.
"I just need to make sure I understand that he didn't hurt you."
"He didn't."
I remained silent, watching her. Teenagers thought they knew all the tricks in the book. The truth of the matter was I had spent my entire career watching teenagers lie to me about their problems. About what was happening at home or with other students.
Santana Lopez was lying to me.
Her father hadn't hit her, I believed that. She was far too specific, though. Someone had hurt her.
"Social services aren't going to like, come take Santana away, are they?" Brittany spoke quietly. I turned to her and knew from the pained expression on her face that she was afraid Santana was going to be taken away from her.
"What?" Santana asked turning to look at her.
"I saw on this show these kids were being treated badly and they were taken away. They had to live elsewhere from their friends. They're not going to do that, are they?"
"Well, Brittany," I began gently but Santana cut me off.
"I'm eighteen. What can they do? I'm an adult now."
"That does pose some issues," I began slowly. Will and I had talked about it already. We were in agreement on the matter. "But we don't want to pull you away from everything. Mr. Schuester and I have been talking and we want to speak to your parents and see if they can't be reasoned with. Maybe get some family counseling involved."
She scoffed at the idea. There was the old Santana returning.
"Where does Santana get to live until then?" Brittany asked. She looked at me like I held all the answers, like what I said next would determine her future with Santana. My heart went out to the girl. I looked at Santana who looked like all she wanted to do was be there with Brittany.
These two young girls had nothing but love for each other and it was costing them dearly. I had seen the same type of pain in Kurt's eyes when he had been bullied. All I could do was help the children at McKinley deal with their problems. I never could fix it, they had to, I just had to give them the tools. Sometimes I wish I could just fight their battles for them.
"Well, here's what we think should happen now."
Santana gave me her full attention.
"Mr. Schuester and I have been talking and we think social services would be a bad way to go. Like I said before some family counseling could be really beneficial for your situation, Santana." Her eyes narrowed. I quickly continued. "Until then, you can come stay with us or with the Pierces some nights, I'm sure."
Both girls looked at each other then at me. This was the last thing they had expected.
"Wait, you don't mind if I come and live with you?" Santana looked as if she was on the verge of tears again.
"Oh," I pulled a tissue box from a drawer in my desk and put it on the edge towards Santana. "Mr. Schuester wants to go talk to your parents and see if he can't get them to come around to the idea of seeking some professional help."
Santana was looking at the ground. Tears were falling slowly down her face. I watched as Brittany grabbed a tissue and wiped them away as if it was the easiest thing in the world.
"Santana," I needed her to hear this. She looked at me and for once I didn't see the stubborn person who would take on the world if it tried to mess with her. I saw a scared young girl who looked completely lost. "What they did to you was wrong. Really wrong. I can't even imagine what you're feeling but you have people who love you no matter what. Who don't care who you fall in love with."
She nodded slowly and tried to stop herself from crying harder.
A bell rang.
"I don't want to go around people," Santana said suddenly. Her voice was clenched as if she was terrified.
"It's okay, you can stay here as long as you need to. But Brittany should get back to class."
Santana's other hand instinctively went for the other girls and she lets out a noise that sounded like a whimper. I pretended I didn't hear it for her sake. "But maybe she could go get you some lunch?"
Brittany nods enthusiastically. She looks relieved, like this is something she can finally do.
"I'll be right back," she says to Santana. They hug each other, Santana holding on tightly and then Brittany leaves.
There is so much love between these two girls.
"Santana?" I say it quietly. I need to focus on her anyway, while she's alone.
"Yeah?" Her voice is a croak. She doesn't look up at me. She pulls her legs up into the chair and sits with them crossed, hands in her lap, head down.
"You can talk to me about anything else."
Her body tenses. She's hiding something. "Maybe another day," she says. That's good enough for me for now.
We don't talk. I adjust the pencil holder on my desk until the corner is lined perfectly with the corner of the table.
"What about your sexuality?"
"What about it?" She doesn't put up a fight to the open question.
"You think you're a lesbian. Would you like to talk about that?"
She shrugs and I wait for a response. I want her to open up to me. There's so much she isn't sharing and I can see it eating her alive.
"I'm in love with Brittany." That's all she says.
"She seems to love you too." She does. I can see it on Brittany's face every time she's in a room with Santana.
"She does," Santana says quietly. "But she shouldn't."
The words hit me so hard that I don't have time to react. I don't know what to say to her. I just sit there trying to process her words.
Brittany enters the room and Santana changes completely. They seem to just mesh together. I let them eat while I try to put all of Santana's papers back into her folder.
AN: Really short chapter by my standards. But I felt it needed to happen like this. I hope you liked it. I'm not too pleased with it, actually. I think I'm so used to writing as Santana that I couldn't really capture these characters as well. Also, this was as far as m original outline went so I'm working on that, plus some other ideas I have, plus I'm re-editing some older chapters, plus I work a lot. So, may take a while to upload another chapter. Please review! It's always inspiration to write more!
