Santana leaned forward in an effort to stop the bile rising up her throat, her eyelids clenched shut to stop the tears threatening to break free, She would not let them see that they had broken her, not ever. She was Santana Lopez, Goddamit. Nobody broke her.
"Santana." She heard Sue say calmly. She snapped her eyes up, willing the hate in her eyes to melt the woman where she sat. She pointed up at the ceiling to remind her that they were still being listening to, as if she cared. "I need your answer."
Santana flicked her gaze to the girl slowly making her way from the doorway to join Sue behind her desk. She had never felt so betrayed by anyone in her life, never felt the sheer rage and hatred towards anyone before. This woman had been her confidant, her lifeline after Quinn and Brittany had gone bad, the only one she had trusted, even remotely, with her thoughts, day in, day out, for four years. They had saved each others lives.
She addressed Cara as she gave her response.
"Fuck you." She spat. "Fuck you both."
Cara dropped her eyes to the floor as she took up her position next to Sue, her arms crossed defensively in front of her. Santana clenched her fists and as her whole body began to shake, dangerously close to a complete meltdown.
"I have hated you for as long as I have known you," She snapped her head to Sue, her words almost a growl. "And nothing you have said in the last ten minutes has changed that. You are a selfish, cold hearted bitch who has always been willing to sacrifice anything and anyone to get what you want. Well I am glad that karma finally got round to biting you in the ass and I hope you spend the rest of your life being shoved around by that piece of shit until he gets bored of you and guts you like a fish. I will never join you, Sue, do you hear me? I would rather deal with anything and everything that he can think up for me than spend one more minute with you. There is nothing he can do to me now that could be worse than what you have put me through." She flicked her eyes back to Cara. "I hope it was worth it."
Sue let out a sigh and leaned forward to press a button on her desk.
"I'm sorry you feel that way, Sandbags. We would have made a great team."
The three of them sat there in loaded silence until Karofsky came back in to collect her. Santana held herself as tightly as possible until he unlocked her cuffs and then shot out of her chair before he had a chance to react. She vaulted up onto the desk and swung her leg round, catching Sue square in the jaw and knocking her backwards out of her chair. She followed through with her kick and dropped down over the older woman, her fists ready to barrel down on her face until there was nothing left of her but suddenly all the air was knocked from her lungs and pain shot through her battered body. She tried to sit up and work out what was going on but couldn't move, Cara having knocked her down and was now straddling her, holding her arms in position above her head.
"Get the fuck off me!" She screamed in her face, bucking wildly, rage pushing the pain back down. "Get the fuck off me right now, you fucking lying piece of shit!"
"Santana, please just listen to me…" Cara begged, desperately trying to keep her pinned down.
"The next time I listen to you will be when I hear your dying screams, you fucking devious cunt." Santana hissed in her face, bringing her own as close as she was able. Cara looked as shocked and hurt as if she had been slapped and her grip loosened just the tiniest bit. It was all Santana needed and she threw the girl off her, swapping their positions and raining punch after punch into any and every part of her body Cara was not quick enough to protect before she was hauled off her by Karofsky and two other guards who had been called in. She kicked out with her legs as she was pulled away, one of them managing to connect quite satisfyingly with her former friend's groin, before she felt a sharp pain and everything went black.
When she came to she was back on the damp floor of her dark cell, a new and exciting head wound to add to her collection. She tried to sit up and was immediately overcome with nausea, retching up bile as the room span and her vision darkened. As the feeling began to recede she backed away slowly and carefully, curling up into a ball with her back against the wall, tears pouring down her face.
She didn't understand, she really didn't. Sure, she had been a bitch in high school, she had made a lot of bad decisions since then, but what had she done that would make her deserve this? When Sue had put them into position as "Peacekeepers" in Lima Santana had laughed about it, actually doubled over, crying with hysterical laughter, with Quinn. It was so ironic, given that they were usually the ones starting all the problems with their scheming and backstabbing, that they couldn't help but laugh. And they figured that nothing much would change, they would just live in a big house and do what they normally did on a larger scale.
But everything changed. Sue moved away and suddenly Santana was taking orders from a decidedly not amused Quinn. She didn't understand it back then. The change came over her best friend so fast she got whiplash, and not just metaphorically. When Quinn came back from her first solo visit to "Sue" Santana had behaved the same way she always did with the blonde, as in she mocked and insulted her, and was rewarded with the tip of a whip slicing through her neck so fast she couldn't make sense of it at first. If it wasn't for the look in Quinn's eyes and the rest of the group backing away from her she honestly wouldn't have believed that it had actually happened. Until Quinn made two of the Cheerios tie her to the wall in the basement, ripped her shirt off and whipped her in front of them all whilst she gave her speech about how she was not going to be disrespected anymore, by anyone. It certainly worked. Making an example by ripping your best friend's back to shreds for calling you a miserable bitch will certainly show people not to fuck with you.
Of course, now Santana understood a lot better the last five minutes of the "example", the part that had done the most damage, when Quinn had lost it and started screaming that "you always thought you could do whatever you wanted to me and just get away with it, you always thought I was so weak! Well I'm not and I never was and you can't do this to me anymore!"
Santana had never thought Quinn was weak, not once. She had always respected and envied her best friend's strength and quiet dignity, especially knowing what her home life was like, but she had never known exactly how strong the girl had been until today. Finding out that your abusive father had kidnapped your daughter and was threatening to do God knows what to her unless you did exactly what he said? She was less surprised that Quinn had eventually snapped completely than she was it hadn't happened sooner.
Santana swiped uselessly at her face. She missed Quinn so much in this moment and she would have given anything if the girl could just have trusted her enough to confide in her and let her help. But then trust was in short supply in the Cheerio's camp, and with good cause it appeared. Cara was the mole. Cara was the fucking mole and Santana had saved her fucking life. And what about Devon? How could Cara have just let her die like that, knowing that she was innocent? They were together, for God's sake! Even if they weren't in love, how could you just let someone you cared about die like that? And how had she not seen it? How was it that Cara had been able to make her believe that she could trust her, that they were friends? She was Santana Lopez, she didn't let people in. But this girl… how could she have been so stupid. She had trusted her with everything. She had trusted her with Rachel.
Fuck.
Santana sat up quickly. Cara and Rachel had escaped down the tunnel. Together. And now Cara was here. Where was Rachel? Had Cara killed her? Was she locked up somewhere? Was she in on it?
Santana's blood ran cold. She couldn't allow herself to think like this. If Rachel had been playing her too...
She leaned forward, retching again but bringing up nothing. She started to shake, her breath coming in fits and starts. She could barely breathe, barely see, her ears were ringing, and she couldn't calm herself down.
"Rachel…" She gasped out as she slumped forward.
Santana could hear a soft voice. She felt the hair being pushed softly off her face and something pressing to her lips.
"Rachel?" She tried to say. Her eyes were struggling to open but she could hear the voice telling her to drink and her head was gently lifted. She felt the water spilling into her mouth and coughed as it caught in her throat.
"Careful." The voice whispered. "Slowly."
She tried to drink again, careful not to swallow it as greedily as she wanted to. She brought her hands up to take hold of the bottle as her eyes began to open and she started to take in her surroundings. Someone was holding her up. Someone she knew. Someone whose voice she recognised. Someone definitely not Rachel. Someone…
She whipped around and swung out with her left fist. Cara blocked it easily and scooted away.
"Please stop trying to hit me and just listen!" She begged as she retreated out of the cell.
"Fuck you!" Santana yelled after her, slamming into the bars as the redhead hurriedly locked the door. "I swear to God if you ever touch me again I will rip your fucking head off!"
"Santana, please, you need to save your strength so sit down and shut the fuck up!" Cara snapped, anger flashing in her eyes.
"I've got enough strength in me to do what I need to do to you!" She yelled, desperately trying to reach her through the bars.
"This isn't about me!" Cara yelled back. "This is about Puck and Rachel!"
"You don't get to say their names!" Santana screamed back, swinging uselessly against the bars, her strength ebbing away even as her rage burned on. "You don't even get to think about them!"
"Well then will you?" Cara tried. "Puck needs our help, he's running out of time…"
"And who's fault is that?" Santana tried to launch herself through the bars again, murder in her eyes.
"And Rachel is walking into a trap!" Cara shouted over the top of her. "Santana, please just listen to me!"
"Where is Rachel?" She asked, tiredness flooding through her. "What did you do to her?"
"I didn't do anything to her! I got her out, back to the warehouse, but then he was there…"
"Who was there?"
"Sebastian." Cara took advantage of her confusion and took a step forward. "He's working with Shelby and the others."
"Oh my God," Santana laughed bitterly and backed away from the bars. "Has everyone been lying to me? I mean, seriously, name me one person who isn't?"
"I'm not lying to you, Santana, I never did…"
"Don't you fucking dare stand there and say that to me…" She spat out, approaching the bars again.
"I didn't tell you that I was sent in there by Sue because I couldn't, you wouldn't have understood!" Cara held her hands out imploringly. "She sent me there to help you…"
"She sent you there to spy on us!"
"No, I swear, I was there to help!"
"I bet the two of you have been laughing your asses off these last six months, huh?" Santana shook her head and sat down heavily.
"Today is the first time I have spoken to her since Devon."
"Devon." She said the name quietly. "She died for you. Because I trusted you. How could you do that to her? To me?"
"I didn't have a choice, Santana." Cara knelt down sadly on the other side of the bars. "It was her or me and I couldn't tell you."
"You are one selfish fuck, you know that?" She laughed, shaking her head at her in disbelief. "You let your girlfriend be murdered because you were spying on me and you expect me to somehow understand?"
"No, that's not what I meant, Santana." The redhead said with a sigh. "How do you think Russell found out I was there in the first place?"
Santana looked at her blankly for a few seconds before she worked in out. "Okay," She huffed out a laugh. "This is now officially ridiculous. What is this, Macbeth?"
"She...she found my phone." Cara said quietly, finger and thumb pinching the bridge of her nose. In the cellar, right after...well, it must have fallen out of my pocket when we were...well she found it on the floor and opened it up to see whose it was. I couldn't do anything to stop her, it would have looked too suspicious. So she looked through it and saw there was only one number. That got her suspicious and I just played along. She said she was taking it to Quinn. Obviously she didn't."
"How do you figure that? Quinn was the one that told us to start looking."
"Because Quinn wasn't there the night she found it and when she got back you went in to see her straight away."
"Yeah, I remember." Santana snorted out a humourless laugh. "And then came straight out and told my 'friend' the news."
"Come on, Santana. You know I couldn't have told you. We didn't know each other well enough back then."
"We don't know each other now." She pointed out bitterly.
"Yes we do!" Cara sat up and grabbed the bars. "I know you think I betrayed you but I never have and I never will."
Santana just looked at her. She wanted to claw her eyes out through the bars. She wanted to stand up and kick and scream and punch at her until there was nothing left of either of them but she was so tired and everything hurt. So she just looked.
"I know that I can't make you believe me but we have to help them." Cara went on, taking advantage of her silence. "We're running out of time. Will you let me help you? Help them?"
She just stared at her again. She didn't trust her, didn't trust anyone. At this point she wasn't even sure she could trust Rachel, or Puck for that matter, but what choice did she have? And really, what more could they do to her at this point? If she walked out of her cell with Cara right now what was the worst that could happen?