Like before you broke up with me so you could fuck Rachel Berry?
The chains tightened around her wrists, burning into her, pulling her body upwards.
I was never weak, Santana…
Bright blue eyes flashed in front of her, pain in her side, nausea building in her stomach.
Is big, bad Santana Lopez scared?
She heard the roar of the flame coming closer to her face, the chains pulling her, twisting her, stretching her body. She tried to move, scream, get free. Sweat was pouring off her. The room smelled like burning flesh and there were people talking, laughing, crying.
I was only playing.
Suddenly the chains were gone. It was dark. Someone was screaming. Her eyes were closed. She opened them.
Sometimes I play up the crazy.
Brittany was chained to the bed beneath her. They were both naked. Santana's hands were locked around her throat. Brittany was writhing around beneath her, hips bucking wildly, rubbing against her. The fear in her eyes was horrifying but Santana could not stop, she could not let go.
I love you.
Santana woke with a start, drenched in sweat and shaking like a leaf. Her head was still full of the dream and she felt sick. She started to cry uncontrollably and wrapped her arms around herself, rocking gently on the bed.
"Baby?" Rachel murmured sleepily.
Santana couldn't answer, just shook her head and carried on rocking.
"Baby, what's wrong?" Rachel sat up in alarm and wrapped her arms around her broken girlfriend.
Santana tried to pull away, the contact too much with the lingering memory of the nightmare still forcing bile up her throat.
"Santana," Rachel said softly, trying to gently pull her back. "Please, baby, let me help you."
The words broke something in her and she collapsed into Rachel's embrace, sobbing loudly, shaking her head to try and clear the memory, her body trembling all over.
"It's okay," Rachel whispered, kissing the top of her head and stroking her back. "It's okay, I've got you."
Santana tried desperately to calm herself down but her mind was not playing, all she could see was Brittany's face as she died, as Santana killed her.
She grabbed at Rachel's back, clinging to her and pressing her face into her girlfriend's chest, desperate sobs wracking her whole body, pleading to herself, to Rachel, to God, to make it stop.
Eventually the image faded and she managed to calm down enough for Rachel to be able to pull her back down into the bed. As she lay there in her embrace, Rachel stroking her hair tenderly, a wave of guilt and sadness washed over her.
"I'm sorry." She whispered.
Grief and exhaustion pulled her back down and she slept for another couple of hours. She woke up still locked in Rachel's embrace and carefully pulled herself out of it, not wanting to wake the other girl for fear that she would want to talk about it. She wasn't ready for that. Not yet.
Santana left the room quietly and went back to the training room, working out her frustration on the punch bag. She had never told Rachel what had happened to her in the basement. Rachel had asked a couple of times but she had never been able to find the words, so she had just given a slight shake of the head and Rachel had understood. None of them knew the full story, not even Cara, who probably knew the most from dealing with the aftermath. She had seen Brittany's body, seen the marks on her neck, but she had never asked, never said anything about it.
The memory of laying Brittany out on the floor next to Quinn flashed across her brain, leaving in it's wake anger, pain and bitterness.
"Fuck!" She yelled, laying punches into the bag as if it was the source of all these memories.
"Easy, Lopez, a replacement won't be easy to come by if you break it." Puck said gently, steadying the bag with one hand and offering her a beer with the other. "You alright?"
"Just dandy, thanks." She replied, breathing hard and taking a long, grateful pull on the beer.
"You want to, ah, talk about it?" He asked hesitantly.
Santana let out a huff of amusement and dropped her head, hand on hip. "You know, one of these days I'm going to say yes when you ask me that question." She looked up at him and smiled wickedly. "My guess is that you'll run screaming from the room."
Puck laughed. "Maybe. But I'll just have gone to get the tequila." He put his arm round her shoulders easily and led her away from the punch bag. "So, what's the plan for tonight?"
"I guess I go in and meet him, you guys find somewhere to keep an eye out for trouble and try to have my back if things go south?"
"You're not going in by yourself."
"Come on, Puck," She stopped in front of the door and faced him. "On a scale of one to bet your sweet ass, how likely is it that this is a trap? The more of us go in, the fewer of us are left to…"
"You are not going in by yourself." Rachel said from behind her.
"Rach…"
"Not a discussion." Rachel shook her head and crossed her arms. "I'm going in with you. If it is a trap, so be it. I am not going to let them separate us again. Puck, Cara, Mike and Tina can watch our backs. We'll head out there now so we can check the layout, see possible ambush sites, escape routes, etc. Are we all ready to go?"
Santana stood there, mouth agape, Puck trying unsuccessfully to stifle a laugh behind her.
"Good. Then let's get on with it." She flipped her hair over her shoulder and turned on her heel, beckoning to the other three as she walked past the kitchen.
"Well," Puck laughed and patted her on the back. "That's you told."
Santana span round and poked him in the chest. "Now you listen to me, Puckerman. If anything happens to her in there, if that slimy little shit pulls anything, I am relying on you to get her out. Do you hear me?"
"Hey, I got your back, you know that." He grabbed her shoulders and locked eyes with her. "I'll get you both out."
"She's the priority." She shrugged him off and walked after Rachel. "Just remember that."
Santana hurried off down the hall to catch Rachel, entering the garage just as she was zipping up her jacket.
"Rachel…" She started.
"Still not a discussion, Santana." Rachel cut her off, pulling her hair out of her coat and tying it up.
"Please just think about this." Santana begged her. "If we both just walk in there and it's a set up, they've won."
"Fine." Rachel folded her arms and looked at her calmly.
"Really?" She smiled in relief.
"Of course." Rachel smiled back. "You're right, we can't both go. I'll go by myself, you stay with Puck and the others."
"Uh-uh. No way." Santana copied her pose, shaking her head violently. "Never going to happen."
"Well, I'm not letting you go in by yourself so I suppose we are at an impasse." She smiled sweetly and grabbed her helmet off the bench. "Shall we go?"
Santana huffed at her in frustration and grabbed her jacket off the hook. "You are a goddamn nightmare sometimes."
Rachel moved slowly towards her. "Speaking of which…"
"Not now, Rachel." She muttered, zipping up her jacket roughly and grabbing her helmet. "Come on, let's just get this over with."
Santana kicked her leg over the bike and started the engine, waiting for Rachel to climb into position before peeling out into the night.