A/N: Just so you know, I didn't have any fun writing this chapter. I don't like seeing my two favorite cheerios in pain. (Sorry, Quinn.) Also, I don't take week long breaks from updating because I'm evil, but every other week I go to a place I like to call my dad's house and there isn't a computer there. Anyways, longer chapter! Yay!

Disclaimer: I've tried negotiating with the writers, but sadly I still don't own Glee.

Get up.

Santana swung open her door, rubbing her head. Her car had swerved into a mailbox, so while there was a huge dent in the side of her car, she had escaped this incident relatively unharmed.

Unfortunately, the police had caught up to her. Two officers steeped out of the police car.

So, to escape getting a ticket, or whatever the police would do to her, she came up with an excuse. The real reason that she had driven so fast to get here would have probably been an acceptable excuse, but that would have taken too long.

But as it turned out, it didn't even matter.

"There's a drug deal going on in that house!" Santana pointed at Brittany's house.

A police officer asked, "And how exactly do you know that?"

Damn it. She knew she could get in a pointless argument explaining that she wasn't a drug dealer, but instead she just fixed the two police officers with a glare that said, If you don't break into that house right now, I just might kill you.

They got the message.

"Stay put," the other officer told her.

Santana decided that later, when the police found out she was lying, she would say that she was a compulsive liar. Which would be a lie, how ironic.

As the police officers walked up to the door, Santana sneaked around the back of Brittany's house.

It was then that it hit her that Brittany could be not just hurt, but dead. She thought back to what had happened only a few days before. Brittany had escaped onto the roof that night, and Santana had a feeling that she had done the same thing this time, too.

Only today… it was raining. And raining made things slippery. And she knew that the word slip was in slippery.

You know what I'm talking about.

Santana wished more than anything that she were wrong.

But of course, she wasn't.

And as she stared at the blonde-haired, lifeless body on the ground, Santana knew she had failed her friend. She thought back to the promise she had made Brittany years ago.

"Santana, I don't want to die," Brittany told her friend. "Ever. Death is so scary." The girls were only eight, but of course they both knew that they would die someday.

"I'll tell you what," Santana said. "We can die when we're both really old. And we'll die together. We'll even hold pinkies while we die, and then we're going to go to heaven together and be best friends forever."

"You promise?" Brittany asked.

"I promise. I'll protect you and I'll never let you die until we're old."

"Pinky promise?"

"Pinky promise." And with that, the two young girls linked pinkies.

Santana was shaken back into the present when the police arrived at the back of the house. One of the police officers was dragging a handcuffed Mr. Pierce along. She heard him arguing with the officer that he wasn't a drug dealer.

"She's dead," Santana said hollowly.

"Are you sure? Did you check her pulse?" Santana shook her head.

"No. But I know she's dead."

"She's lying, I tell you. I'm telling you, I'm not trying to smuggle drugs across the border of Mexico! Besides, we're not even anywhere near Mexico!" Brittany's father was explaining.

"Will you please shut up about yourself for once? Your daughter is lying dead on the ground with her skull cracked open and you're just…" Santana was losing her temper with this man. "How about you crawl into a little hole in the ground and die, because nobody fucking cares about you!"

"Wait… is he a drug dealer or not?" one of the police officers asked.

"No… well, I don't think he is, at least… but that's beside the point."

"Miss, would you please explain what is going on here?"

"Like… child abuse or something… I don't know what to call it, okay? Brittany didn't tell me much," Santana snapped.

"Mr. Pierce, would you like to tell us what's been going on between you and your daughter?" the cop continued.

"He's just going to lie," Santana interrupted. The police officer shot her a look not to interrupt.

"A couple of times… I might have disciplined her. She was being a brat, and I needed to smack some sense into her," Mr. Pierce shrugged.

Santana laughed. "Oh yes, she's such a bad kid, sitting in her room minding her own business! I mean, what kind of awful person does that?"

"I was drunk! The I couldn't help it!" Mr. Pierce shouted. Santana flinched at this.

"And how many times has that happened?" one of the cops asked.

Jonathan Pierce didn't answer that.

The two cops nodded at each other. "I think we've heard enough," one said, grabbing Mr. Pierce by his arm and walking towards the police car.

Santana heard Mr. Pierce say a few words that made her blood go cold. Not literally, but still.

"I didn't mean to kill you," Mr. Pierce mumbled to the body of his daughter.

She really wanted to kill that man. And she would mean it.

One of the police officers turned towards Santana. "We would give you a ticket, but seeing as how-," the officer looked sympathetically at Brittany lying limply on the ground. "Well, I think you've paid well over the price."

Santana thought it was funny how nobody had mentioned that her car was wrecked. Though frankly, she didn't give a shit about that.

And then she was left alone with Brittany. Santana couldn't bring herself to look at her best friend, or rather her only real friend's body.

She knew that she would never be able find someone like Brittany. Someone who could look past her cold, unfriendly exterior and make her smile, laugh, actually feel things. Would they have ever become more than friends if Brittany was still alive? Maybe. Maybe not. I didn't matter which one, because more important than sweet lady kisses was having someone who would always have your back, who would always make you feel better, and would never leave you if they had the choice.

But you don't get a choice on when you die.

Santana heard a car door slam shut, and the sound of someone running towards her. She thought it was just her mom, but instead she turned around and saw Mr. Schuester and a few of the glee kids walking towards her.

"Hey, did you guys ditch school too?" she asked, trying to keep her voice from shaking.

"We heard about it," Mr. Schue said. He didn't have to explain. Santana knew exactly what he was talking about. "I'm just so, so sorry."

And that was when Santana finally broke down and cried.

Once again, lots of commas and italics! And I know there wasn't some big huge death scene, but the thing is that sometimes people just die, and you never get to say goodbye. Now I'm sad. I think I'm going to write some Brittana fluff after this.

Up next: Kind of a flashback to what happened what happened that led to Brittany falling off her roof, from Brittany's POV.