You said you'd always need me there by your side

Santana recalled when they had to choose between Glee and cheerleading, the time Brittany was going to be shot out of the rocket. Yeah, Quinn had been the one to officially make the choice, but Santana had seen look in Britt's eyes and wondered what she was thinking. Later, on the bus to the Glee competition,she had explained.

"I need you, San. I need you right by my side. I don't cheer as well when we're far apart, and you couldn't be there with me in the cannon. You're happier in Glee, and I want to be right by your side for that, because I alway need you there by my side."

But now I'm just along for the ride

Now they were on their way to yet another Glee competition, but this time Santana sat all alone. Brittany was over near Artie, in his special place on the bus. Santana knew the team needed her, but that didn't make her feel any better. She wanted Brittany to need her the way she used to. She just felt like she was along for the ride, she wasn't really essential to the action anymore. Life was going by without her, and all she could do was sit and watch.

You said you'd always be my shoulder to cry on

Santana remembered the day she realized she was gay, the panic in her throat. It was the summer before freshman year, and they were at one of the 'cool kid' parties. Being Cheerios, they were now expected to have a little too much to drink and flirt with all the new football boys there. Santana didn't know why, but she didn't want to. She hadn't had that much to drink, accidentally 'forgetting' her drinks in different places to make it seem like she'd drank the full cups. She watched from afar as Britt and Quinn danced together, a little too together for Santana's liking. As she was making her way over to dance with them (in between them), Noah Puckerman grabbed her ass. Spinning around, she was prepared to bite his head off, before seeing who it was. She simply smiled and said "Congrats on making the team, Noah."

"It's Puck now," he said, a little too much venom in his voice. Clearly, he'd had too much to drink already. Grabbing Santana's wrist, he pulled her in close to him. She could smell the alcohol on his breath as he ran his hands up her sides. Before she knew what was happening, he pulled her roughly against him by her waist and was kissing, attempting to shove his tongue down her throat. She wanted to scream, but the sound got caught in her throat, causing her to choke. Thankfully, before things could go any further, Britt came bounding over with a light comment. She wanted to know if they could leave now so they could go to the park and feed the ducks before they were all asleep.

Taking the excuse, Santana walked away from Puck without a backward glance, feeling shaken and disgusted. They hopped in Santana's car and drove to the pond. Santana had a loaf of bread in her backseat for situations just like these, as they were more frequent than you might think. As Brittany crouched near the waterfront and broke off bits of bread to lure ducks in, Santana took a seat on a nearby bench and stared out over the water. Suddenly, Brittany heard a sob break free from her best friend's chest. Pushing through the crowd of ducks around her, she rushed to Santana's side, pulling her against her in a tight embrace.

"What's wrong, Sanny? What is it?" Brittany asked, confused and concerned.

"I'm gay," muttered Santana brokenly, as fresh sobs racked her body.

"So?" Brittany asked, genuinely perplexed. Santana laughed and just gave her a look, attempting to convey that being gay meant losing friends, family, and popularity. Being gay meant being ridiculed, mocked, harassed. Sometimes even beaten, raped, or killed. Being gay meant being miserable, as Santana saw it.

"You love women; I love ducks. Why does it even matter?" Brittany asked, a large grin on her face. Santana couldn't fight the smile forming on her lips. She wiped away her tears and pulled Brittany in close, truly lucky to have such an open-hearted best friend. "By the way, I may love ducks, and men, but I certainly love women as well," Brittany whispered, with a hint of mischief in her voice.

That night was their first kiss.

But now I don't know who to rely on

Now Santana was in tears again, and again it could be blamed on her deviant sexuality. This time, though, she didn't have Brittany there to hold her close and tell her that it was okay. Brittany had chosen Artie over her. The cripple!

It was her own fault, she knew. That didn't make it any easier, or hurt any worse. As soon as Brittany had left to join the others in the auditorium, she had run. Literally, run. She just confessed all of her true feelings and the woman she was in love with had rejected her for a stupid boy! She ran all the way home, fighting off the tears with the pumping of her legs. It was the best she knew how to do. However, once she arrived home and stopped to unlock the door, it all caught up with her. The tears started streaming down her face, her thighs burned, her lungs heaved for air.

She managed to make it to the couch in her living room, her legs shaking so bad they could barely support her. She didn't know what to do. Her parents were gone for the weekend, Brittany was with Artie, Quinn would want to do emotional shit... Puck! She called Puck, asking him to come over. He knew she was upset, could sense the urgency and desperation behind her words. It had been almost a year since they had done this; she had been trying to be better. Without Brittany, all of that hard work was lost…

Puck showed up half an hour later with a six-pack of cheap beer and a small plastic bag in his back pocket. After downing a beer each and commiserating on how difficult women are to understand or to please, Puck finally showed Santana the marijuana. She was hesitant at first - Britt didn't like it when she smoked. Fuck it! she thought, realizing that Brittany wasn't around and was the reason she was in this mess in the first place, so why did it even matter?

She smoked it. She clung to it as if it were the oxygen keeping her alive. Puck might have been concerned on a different night, but Lauren had been giving him hell lately too, so he was a bit too horny to care. When Santana was flying high as a kite, he made his move. He kissed her. Not just an innocent kiss though, he grabbed her by the back of the neck and pulled her to him, tangling his hand in her long black hair. She was too high to mind much. She didn't respond, didn't kiss him back; she didn't fight him off either. She let him continue; a kiss led to making out, led to his hands exploring her body. By the time she was coming down from her high, their clothes were on the floor and he was pumping inside her. She attempted to push him off, but found that she had no strength in her muscles from the run earlier. She tried to say no, to convey to him what she wanted, but he just shoved his tongue in her mouth and interpreted her attempts at speech as groans of pleasure. Eventually, he finished and pulled out, getting off the bed to get dressed.

That's the thing about Puck: For hook-ups, he fucked and left. Santana just lay on the bed, tears in her eyes, feeling dirty and used. She didn't want to have sex with Puck; that wasn't why she called him. She was done lying about who she was or about her true feelings. That's what today was supposed to be about. What just happened only proved to her that she needed to be honest with the outside world as well, not just Britt. Maybe then, she'd have somebody to turn to now. Maybe then, this wouldn't have happened; she wouldn't feel violated and defiled and used and dirty.

She was alone now, completely and utterly. She had pushed away anyone who could come and save her. Sore, dirty, and exhausted, she curled up in a ball and cried herself into a fitful sleep.