Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.

Author's Note(s): Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. I know it's been pretty much forever since I last updated. I blame 'Sexy'. It broke my brain and suddenly fanfiction didn't measure up. I'm back now though.

Thank you to everybody who reviewed the last chapter! It's very much appreciated. I love you all a little bit.

So yes, I'm terribly sorry for the wait. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Put On a Happy Face
Chapter 21

It was like something out of an awful sitcom; except it wasn't comical so much as just…a bad situation. There was a variety of emotions on display, ranging from utter delight on Callie's face to a strange look of betrayal on Christina's that Brittany didn't quite understand.

"Hello again, Brittany," said Dr. Lopez, turning to glance at her briefly. Brittany nodded stiffly in response before they both turned their attention back to a rather sad looking Santana. "How are things?"

Once again, it took Santana a moment to reply. "Things are fine, thank you," she eventually said. Dr. Lopez raised an eyebrow at her and gestured to their surroundings.

"People who are fine don't need to be in a hospital," Lopez pointed out when he received no response.

"We aren't here for me," said Santana tonelessly. She inclined her head towards Christina who shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny.

For a moment, Lopez looked perplexed. "Is this your daughter?" he asked.

Brittany narrowed her eyes. It felt kind of weird because she didn't do it very often. "How old do you think I am?" she asked, feeling rather insulted.

"No, she is not our daughter," Santana snapped. It looked as though Callie wanted to interject at this point, presumably to explain to Lopez that she was their daughter, but she seemed to sense that it probably wasn't the best time to talk. "She's one of my students." Christina nodded almost imperceptibly in agreement.

"One of your students?" Lopez questioned, he seemed to be growing more puzzled by the minute.

With a sigh, Santana rolled her eyes and scowled. "You'd know more about it if you'd answered one of my two hundred phone calls of the last ten years."

An awkward silence fell as Lopez's expression darkened.

Santana was almost thirteen when she first met Daniel Lopez. Up until that point it was pretty much like every other day of Santana's life. She'd gone to school, made out with Noah Puckerman (who was almost as badass as she was), and then she'd gone home with Brittany so they could hang out. Okay, so how they'd ended up bouncing around the kitchen in an attempt to 'bake' something was a bit of a mystery to Santana, but it was making Brittany happy and for some reason Santana couldn't find it in herself to take that away from her.

"Brittany," said Santana in an exasperated voice. "The eggs are supposed to go in the bowl. Not on the counter."

A frown appeared on Brittany's face as she contemplated this new piece of information. "Then why doesn't it say so in the recipe?"

"It does!" replied Santana. Brittany frowned again and looked back at the worn cookbook they were consulting. "Well, okay, no it doesn't," Santana conceded.

With a small look of triumph, Brittany picked up the bowl and scraped the egg into it from the kitchen top. Santana grimaced and decided to limit her cake consumption to a bare minimum; assuming they ever actually got these things to cook. At this point, Santana was doubtful as to how successful they were going to be. Especially since Brittany had decided not to actually weigh the ingredients so much as wantonly tip the bags into the bowl until it 'felt right'. She let out a small sigh and handed Brittany the wooden spoon in her hand so she could mix.

"How many do you think we'll be able to make?" Brittany asked as she looked thoughtfully at their doughy concoction. Santana was pretty sure it was suppose to have a thinner consistency by this point.

"Dunno," she replied, shrugging her shoulders. "Book says twelve."

"Are you sure?" Brittany said rather sceptically. "They don't look like real words to me."

Santana grabbed a pinch of flour and threw it in Brittany's direction. "It's Spanish."

"Oh!" said Brittany with a look of dawning comprehension. "That's why it's so confusing!"

With a short laugh, Santana nodded her head. She probably should have explained that to her friend earlier. No wonder she'd not been putting the right ingredients into their cake mix. Sometimes, Santana forgot that not everyone understood both languages. Brittany usually understood what she was saying regardless of the words she used. It was just one of those best friends forever things the two of them had going on.

She was so engrossed in watching Brittany fail to combine the ingredients to their cake without getting half of it all over the floor that she didn't hear the front door open. Not until she heard her mother's laughter ring out through the house. It took Santana a moment to actually recognise it as her mother because she wasn't really used to the sound of her laughter. She took a sweeping look around the ruined kitchen and a variety of curse words ran through her head; she'd though she'd have more time to clean all this up.

"Santana?" called her mother's distinctive voice.

Santana flinched a little while Brittany smiled. Despite the fact that her mom most certainly wasn't Brittany's biggest fan, for reasons that still remained a mystery to Santana, Brittany was always pleased for the opportunity to catch up with the older version of her friend.

"I'm in the kitchen," she shouted back, a little reluctantly.

For a moment, she entertained the idea of doing a very quick cleanup while her mother was still in the hall, but it only took a quick glance to tell her that there was absolutely no way to salvage the wreck. Naturally, Brittany seemed oblivious to the problem and continued to idly stir what little was left in their mixing bowl.

Her mother said something else that Santana couldn't quite make out and it was quickly followed by the sound of a deep male chortle. Santana furrowed her brows in confusion and Brittany shot her a cautious look; her mom usually didn't bring her boyfriends home, although Santana knew full well that she had them. Sneaking men in and out of the house while Santana was supposed to be sleeping wasn't as effective at keeping them a secret as her mother seemed to believe it was.

Before Santana could contemplate this further, the door swung open and in stepped her mother with a very tall Hispanic man in tow. If she hadn't been so certain that she was about to be grounded for the rest of her natural born life, the look on her mom's face would have amused Santana to no end. She looked around the kitchen with absolute mortification while the man next to her began to chuckle.

"Hi, Eva!" said Brittany, breaking to rising tension in the room.

"Brittany," replied her mother stiffly. She shot Santana an angry look before schooling her features into something more socially acceptable.

"Hi, mom," said Santana meekly. "Um…me and Brittz were just making cakes…"

"So I see," replied her mother, casting a critical eye over the bowl in Brittany's hand.

"I'll clean it up when we're done," Santana promised. Her mother raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Santana assumed she was being saved from a humiliating dressing-down because of the guy stood beside her.

"You'll have to save me a cake when you're finished," said the man finally. Her mother seemed to snap out of her stupor and she positively beamed at him. It made Santana feel a little ill.

"Santana, dear," said her mother in a saccharine voice, "This is Doctor Lopez."

Lopez held out his hand and Santana shook it reluctantly. He struck quite an imposing figure, Santana noticed, and though he smiled at her, through it she could see rather a stern expression on his face. After only that first sentence, Santana already knew what her mother saw in this guy; he clearly had money. She knew her knock-offs, and that Rolex on his wrist was no fake. Nor was the Prada bag her mother was now sporting; a bag that she most certainly hadn't owned earlier than morning.

"It's nice to meet you, Santana," he said. His voice was educated and clear. "I've heard a lot about you."

Before Santana could tell him that she hadn't been granted the same courtesy, her mother shot her a warning glare. "Er yeah…you too," she replied.

All in all, even though she didn't especially like it, Santana rather approved.

After a moment, Lopez shook his head in disappointment. "You're being incredibly rude, Santana. I thought I taught you better than this."

Santana bit back the urge to utter that tired cliché of 'you're not my real dad', and instead chose to fold her arms across her chest. What she wouldn't give for this not to be happening right now…in front of her daughter and one of her students of all places. The guarded but interested look on Christina's face made her want to punch a wall. Not to mention the way she could practically feel Callie itching to ask a million questions beside her. This was all going to be fun to explain away later.

There was a sudden slump in Lopez's shoulders and he glanced away. If Santana didn't know better, she'd think it was a look of defeat.

"Look, Santana," he began in a hesitant voice, "I know things between us have never been what one would call 'happy', but I'm still your stepfather whether you like it or not."

Or not was on the tip of her tongue, but she nodded once and let her eyes drift over to her wife, who shot her an encouraging smile. It was enough to make Santana relax a little at least. Lopez seemed to notice and he pushed his hands into his pockets and gazed at the small group consideringly.

"You're going to be here for hours," he remarked calmly. "Unless you'd like me to take a look at her instead?"

Santana felt her mouth drop open in surprise. She honestly couldn't remember a time when he'd willingly offered to put himself out for her. If anything, he seemed to actively put himself out just to piss her off.

It was the sound of vibrations against hard wood that woke her. She grumbled unhappily into her pillow before blindly reaching out to grasp her phone from the bedside table. It took her a couple of minutes before she could bring herself to actually pry her bleary eyes open. She scanned the small screen as she made a note of the time; six am. Her thumb rose to open the text, but before she could, a second one caused further vibrations against her palm. She let out a small sigh.

Both from Brittany, she observed before opening the first one.

'Let me in!'

Santana frowned and opened the second one.

'It's cold. Hurry up.'

Unwillingly, she rolled out of bed and staggered to her feet. Okay, so she might not want to, but she knew that if she didn't move her ass into gear now she'd never hear the end of it. Brittany could be unbearable when she didn't get her own way; a fact that the rest of the world seemed strangely oblivious to.

When she reached the front door, she could hear a faint tapping sound that alerted her to Brittany's presence. She fumbled with the lock for a moment and then pulled the door open with a scowl firmly on her face.

Then she was hit by something very solid.

A muffled cry of surprise escaped her lips as Brittany practically threw herself into Santana's arms and hugged her tightly.

"Happy Birthday, Santana!" she said cheerfully into Santana's messy black hair.

Santana swallowed against her dry throat and wrapped her arms around her assailant.

"Thanks, Brittz," she said, her voice thick with sleep.

They stood there in silence until Santana began to shiver from the cold air blowing in from outside. She pulled free of her friend and gently closed the door so as not to wake her mother. Her mom had never been a morning person and it was more than Santana's life was worth to risk waking her so early. So, turning back to Brittany, Santana pressed her finger to her lips; the universal sign for quiet. Brittany mimicked her with her free hand and grinned.

Together, they made their way up to Santana's bedroom and then crawled under her rumpled covers.

Santana groaned. "Britt, do you realise what time it is?" she asked, genuinely not sure whether Brittany knew the answer.

"Just after six," replied Brittany promptly. "On your birthday."

"Yeah," said Santana with a snort.

"Do you want your present yet?" said Brittany. She gestured to a small gift bag lying on Santana's floor amongst a pile of clothes.

"Duh," said Santana with a raised eyebrow.

Brittany flashed her a smile and scrambled out of bed to grab the predominantly pink bag. It was exactly the kind of wrapping Santana would expect from Brittany. Bright, gaudy and decorated with a variety of clashing ribbons. It was pretty perfect, really.

"Open it," Brittany said as she thrust the eyesore into Santana's outstretched hands.

Not needing to be told twice, Santana attempted to open the bag. She frowned, for the first time noticing the excessive amount of sticky tape layered over the top.

"Brittany, I've seen banks that are easier to break into than this," said Santana with a bemused look at her friend.

"I didn't want the cricket to steal it," replied Brittany blandly.

Wisely deciding it was better not to ask, Santana nodded and reached over to grab her house key from her bedside table. She congratulated herself on her ingenuity as she used it to saw along the opening of the bag. Beside her, Brittany began to bounce gently up and down in excitement.

Santana forced her hand into the bag and wrapped her fingers around a small box. She grinned and pulled it out to examine it closely.

"Open it," Brittany prompted again.

Santana lifted the lid and felt a wide smile cross her face. She picked up the charm bracelet and looked at it carefully.

"Look," said Brittany. She pulled out a second identical bracelet from her pocket and held it up to Santana. "We'll match!" she said excitedly and Santana chuckled.

"Thanks, Britt," she said fondly.

"You like it?" said Brittany hopefully.

"I love it," Santana confirmed. She leaned over and gave Brittany a quick peck on the cheek. "Thank you."

Santana and Christina walked side by side down a typical hospital corridor behind Dr. Lopez. The strong smell of antiseptic made Santana's nose itch and she glanced around in revulsion. She had kind of hoped she wouldn't be back here this soon after her last visit. Beside her, Christina shoved her hands into the pockets of her jeans and looked down nervously.

"Hey," Santana said softly. Christina tilted her head. "Do you want me to come in or do you want me to stay outside?"

It took a moment, but Christina shrugged her shoulders. "Whatever."

Dismissive though she sounded, Santana picked up on the waver of fear in her voice. So, when Lopez stopped in front of one of the doors and gestured for them to go inside, Santana followed Christina and sat herself down on the chair beside the bed. Ugh. It looked exactly like the one she'd stayed in.

"Right then," said Lopez seriously. "What seems to be the problem?"

Christina shot Santana a worried look and she nodded in what she hoped was an encouraging manner.

Slowly, the girl removed her outer coat to reveal the deep scratches and cuts along her arms. Santana gulped and looked away; they appeared much worse in the cold light of day. Naturally, Lopez showed had no outward reaction. Santana couldn't actually remember a time when he ever had. As a teenager she'd been positive it was because he had some robot ancestry in his family tree. Now that she was an adult, she knew better. She was now only fifty percent sure that was true.

As Lopez advanced on Christina, she flinched away from him. He paused for a moment.

"So, Santana tells me you're one of her students?" he said conversationally. It was a painfully obvious attempt to make her relax a little, but Christina nodded anyway.

"I'm a cheerleader," she replied, sounding rather pleased with herself.

Lopez nodded his head. "Is Sue Sylvester still the coach?"

Santana looked at him curiously. She was genuinely surprised he'd remembered the name. "She is," Santana answered. "She's away on…She's away and I'm her stand-in until she comes back."

"I wish she wouldn't," Christina mumbled.

"Why is that?" Lopez asked, gingerly wrapping his fingers around her wrist so he could examine some of her injuries more closely.

"Just before Christmas she had Fran walking across a tightrope," said Christina dryly. "I bet you can guess how well that turned out."

Santana frowned. "When I was at school, she tried to fire Brittany out of a cannon." She paused thoughtfully. "I'm honestly not sure why she's still allowed around children."

"What happened?" asked Christina with interest, seemingly now oblivious to the way Lopez was twisting her arm around so he could see it from a different angle.

"We quit for the rest of the year," said Santana with a shrug.

A horrified look crossed Christina's face and Santana would be lying if she said she could blame her. She could still remember the sense of impending doom when she'd gone to school the next day without her Cheerios uniform. It felt like she'd been stripped of layers of defences and she had lived on tenterhooks for weeks while she waited for the other shoe to drop. As it turned out, the bullying hadn't been as bad and she'd expected. For a while though, it still felt a little bit like the end of the world. Now, Santana knew better. Looking back on it, her high school worries seemed ridiculous. In the long run it honestly hadn't mattered who was popular and who wasn't, but when she thought about it, Santana wasn't sure if there was anything she'd really change. She liked the idea of making better choices, but would she be the same person she was today if things had been different?

She shook her head a little to try and dispel her thoughts and focussed her attention back on the girl in front of her. Christina seemed to be pressing her back as far into the wall as she possibly could to escape Lopez's close inspection.

"How did this happen?" asked Lopez in a low voice. If Santana didn't know better, she'd say there was a hint of concern somewhere buried in his words.

Christina visibly cringed and looked at Santana pleadingly. Torn between wanting to save her from the obvious distress she was suffering from but also wanting to know the answer, Santana reached out and grasped Christina's hand in her own. She was pretty sure she was breaking one of the many student-teacher boundaries she was supposed to adhere to, but she told herself that it counted as 'special circumstances'. At first, Christina didn't respond, but then she intensified her grip on Santana's hand with almost painful force.

"I smashed one of my dad's whisky bottles and he tried to hit me with it," said Christina quietly. The effort that every word seemed to cost her caused Santana's throat to tighten.

"I'm sorry," said Dr. Lopez after a moment of silence. Santana couldn't help but search his face for insincerity; it really shouldn't have come as a surprise to her when she didn't find any. He'd always been far more interested in his patients than in her.

Christina shrugged but said nothing. Santana got the distinct impression she was trying not to cry.

"Well," said Lopez, clearing his throat. "You could have done with some stitches, but I'm afraid it's too late now. Some of these are probably going to scar I'm sorry to say." Sharp nails began to dig into Santana's hand. "It doesn't look like there's any infection, but you should take a round of antibiotics just in case and I'll get you some antiseptic cream."

"Okay," said Christina. Her voice was small and broken.

"Do you have any other injuries?" asked Dr. Lopez. She shook her head and he nodded rather doubtfully. "Okay," he said, taking a step back and switching his glance to Santana. "Can I speak to you outside for a minute?" he said. It wasn't really a question.

When Santana and Brittany went down to the kitchen for breakfast just before midday (or was it lunch now?), she was only a little surprised to find her mother conveniently absent. She must have gone out sometime after Santana had fallen back to sleep. As it was her birthday, and a Saturday, she'd insisted that Brittany allow her to stay in bed for as long as she wanted. Naturally, Brittany agreed.

"Should I make food?" asked Brittany with an interested look around the kitchen.

Remembering full well what had happened last time Brittany had attempted to cook, Santana shook her head. "I'll do it."

With a pout, Brittany sat down at the table. "But it's your birthday," she pointed out.

"Yeah," said Santana quietly. "Doesn't matter."

In the end, Santana threw a pizza in the oven and she and Brittany sat in the living room and watched re-runs of Friends for most of the day. It was a nice change; she was usually in school on her birthday. A few texts came through from various people wishing her a happy birthday, but she didn't hear anything from her mother until she laughingly stumbled through the front door some time in the early evening.

"Oh, Doctor Lopez," she said in a flirty voice and Santana couldn't help the look of disgust that crossed her face. Brittany reached over and linked their pinkies together without taking her eyes off the TV.

There was the sound of a commotion in the hall and the two adults laughed. Santana made a quiet noise of revulsion and about five seconds later, they wandered into the room.

"Hello, girls," said her mother cheerfully.

"Hi," said Santana.

"Hi, Eva."

"How has your day been?" her mom continued. Santana dimly noted that she had her arm threaded through Lopez's.

"It's been great," said Santana dryly.

An annoyed look flickered in her mother's eyes but it swiftly vanished.

"Happy birthday, Santana," said the man finally. Oh. So she had remembered and just didn't care, thought Santana bitterly.

"Thanks," replied Santana shortly. She turned her attention back to the TV.

"Santana," her mother scolded. She bit back a sigh and Brittany smiled rather blankly at her. Why was it that her own mother had ditched her on her own birthday, and yet she was the one who felt guilty for some reason?

"We've brought you a present," said Lopez, his attempt to lighten the tone obvious.

At the prospect of a gift, Santana instantly perked up. "Oh?"

The look on her mother's face suggested that she'd rather withhold the gift out of spite, but she thrust her hand into her bag and pulled out a box wrapped in a cream plastic bag. Santana recognised it as being from the expensive jewellery shop in town and grinned. Although, she felt like they could have made more of an effort to not make it obvious that they'd only just bought it for her. It's not like her birthday had come as a surprise to, you know…the woman who gave birth to her. She pushed those thoughts aside and accepted the box and quickly unravelled the 'wrapping'. She lifted the lid of the box and gaped.

She took hold of the white gold bangle and ran a delicate finger over what was undoubtedly a real diamond adorning the top. She didn't notice the rather despondent glance that Brittany shot the forgotten charm bracelet dangling from Santana's wrist. This was…well…a lot more than she'd been expecting. Being a single parent meant that Santana's mother wasn't exactly wealthy. For her birthday last year, her mom had bought her a scented candle and a new pair of socks. Not that she hadn't been grateful; because she had. Sort of. It was better than what she'd got when her dad had been around, which was sweet nothing.

"Wow," she said after a full minute of examining her new possession.

"I'm glad you like it," said her mother dryly.

"Thanks, mom," she said happily, even though she knew full well that Doctor Lopez was obviously the benefactor of her shiny new toy. In her delight, the fact that her mother had actively chosen to spend her daughter's birthday hanging out with her new man-friend completely disappeared from Santana's mind. It was probably just a one time thing anyway.

"It's really pretty," Brittany commented softly.

Santana nodded idly and then placed it carefully back in the box. "It's awesome."

There was a pause. "What are your plans for dinner?" asked her mother.

"Huh?" said Santana with confusion. Her mother pursed her lips in disapproval.

"I'm afraid Daniel and I have plans this evening, Santana. You and Brittany are going to have to fend for yourselves," she said.

"Oh," replied Santana. She successfully kept the disappointment from her voice and dimly noted the way Brittany's gaze fell to her knees awkwardly. "Where are you going?"

"Doctor Lopez has an important business dinner," said her mother airily.

"Unavoidable, I'm afraid," Lopez added with faux sympathy.

"Oh," Santana repeated. "We'll just order Chinese then," she said with a disinterested shrug.

Instantly, Lopez's hand shot to his pocket. He pulled out a crisp twenty dollar note and forced it into Santana's hand. "It's your birthday," he said by way of explanation.

"Er…thanks," said Santana, while her mother beamed.

"What the hell is going on, Santana?" Lopez practically hissed at her. He glanced around the corridor to make sure nobody was around.

Santana tried to quell an unexpected surge of fear; old habits died hard, she guessed. "I think it's fairly obvious what's going on," she replied.

Lopez gave her a hard look and pressed his lips into a thin line. It was amazing how a few harsh words and cold glances made her feel like a wayward teenager again. Shoulders slumped of their own volition and Santana had to actively fight to hold her head up high and meet his gaze. She internally cursed her own body for trying to betray her in this way.

"You realise you need to go to the police, I hope?" said Lopez after a moment.

Arms folded, Santana narrowed her eyes. "Of course I do. I'm not stupid."

A noise a disbelief passed Lopez's lips and he looked Santana up and down critically. "I'm glad some things have changed then."

Santana's breath caught in her throat and she began to blink rapidly against a horribly familiar stinging in her eyes. Years of repressed hurt and anger started to rise to the surface as she clenched her hands into tight fists. No, she told herself firmly, this isn't about you. Not without difficulty, Santana swallowed. She pushed back every negative thought and every niggling feeling to the back of her mind and tried to focus on what was important.

"How should I do it?" she said, her voice breaking almost unnoticeably. "Should I just take her to the police station?"

"No," replied Lopez rather grimly. "I'll call social services. Wait here."

Author's Note(s): I can't tell you how much I've ummed and ahhed over this chapter. Sorry for any mistakes; I've only checked it once. Will be back to fix them tomorrow.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it and thanks for reading. Have I mentioned how sorry I am for the delay?

MLE: Even though Valentines has passed, I am still open to being serenaded. Just sayin'.