High-pitched crying jolted her from her deep slumber. Santana pushed herself off the bed and rubbed her eyes tiredly as she walked to Bella's crib. Her five-month old looked up at her with dark eyes and a slightly trembling lower lip.

"What's wrong, baby girl?" Santana whispered, trailing her finger over Bella's forehead. It was something she'd done since her daughter had been born, and it always seemed to soothe her.

Bella's tears ceased, and she smiled up at her mother. Santana rolled her eyes and smiled back.

"You manipulate me, baby girl," she teased, reaching down to pick up her daughter. "You already know I can't resist that beautiful smile."

Emitting a small gurgle, Bella reached for Santana's face. The Latina giggled at her daughter's clumsy movements.

"Come on, let's go to bed," she said tiredly. "Mama's got work in the morning." She nuzzled her nose against Bella's soft neck. "But I really don't want to leave you."

Santana cherished the times when she and Bella would lie on her bed and just look at each other. It was almost like they were having silent conversations. Bella knew every inch of Santana's face and had already started trying to mimic the expressions her mother made. Santana figured it was subconscious, but everything about Bella — the little noises she made, her tiny hands reaching towards her mother's face — made Santana the proudest mom in the world.

They fell asleep looking at each other, Bella gripping Santana's index and middle fingers.

Kurt poked his head in the following morning and smiled at the scene. He resisted the urge to take a photo, because he knew Santana would beat him senseless. Being a mother had definitely tempered the fiery Latina, but away from her daughter, the no-nonsense, tough-talking, confident Santana Lopez was still very much alive.

"How is she?" Finn asked, pouring his stepbrother a cup of coffee.

"I think she's doing okay," Kurt replied. "Thanks," he added, taking the warm cup of caffeine. "I worry that she's working herself too hard though. She's pushing hard at work to finish early so that she can come home to Bella." At that, he paused.

"Kurt," Finn said in a warning tone. "I know that look. Don't interfere too much."

Kurt sighed. "I just…I know they said they wanted nothing to do with her anymore, but I mean, they're her parents. I'm pretty sure that if they took one look at Bella, they'd realize what a mistake they made by cutting her out of their lives."

Finn considered his words. Unlike his wife, whom he still totally loved despite her…eccentricities, Kurt generally didn't just blurt things out for the sake of hearing his voice. Would Santana really hate them for attempting a reconciliation?

"We should talk to Rachel," he finally said. "Maybe we can trick them into coming here with tickets to her show."

Kurt beamed. "Brilliant idea, Finn."

"Morning, guys," Santana said sleepily, walking into the kitchen and pouring herself a cup of coffee. She glanced at the brothers and raised an eyebrow at their guilty faces. "What?"

"Uh, nothing," Kurt said quickly. "We were just talking about what we were going to do for your birthday."

Santana rolled her eyes. "That was last month. And I told you already, I don't want anything. No party, no presents, nothing. You guys have already done so much for me and Bella."

With that, Santana walked back into her room with her coffee and placed it on her bedside table. She wasn't stupid. She knew that they were talking about either her parents or a certain blonde dancer. Santana sighed. She knew that they meant well, and that they worried about her, but she was the only one who could really deal with this. Brittany wasn't coming back, and as much as Santana regretted some of the things she'd said that night, Brittany hadn't made any effort to reconcile.

Bella started to wake up, and Santana immediately recognized the look on her daughter's face. She was hungry. Sitting down on the bed, Santana picked Bella up, cradling her to her breast. She pulled her top down, and Bella latched on eagerly. Santana chuckled and leaned back, just watching her daughter feed. Their eyes met, and Bella gave her a small smile, some milk dribbling out the side of her mouth.

Santana smiled tenderly and wiped the trail away.

10 minutes later, Bella was full, and Santana put her back in her crib after burping her and singing to her softly. Once she saw her baby breathing peacefully, she glanced at the clock.

"Shit!" she exclaimed quietly. ""Shit! Shit! Shit!" She was going to be so late.

"Ms. Lopez, this is the third time in two weeks that you've been late," Mr. Thomas, her boss, scolded her.

"I know, sir," Santana said apologetically. "I'm doing my best to manage everything."

Mr. Thomas sighed. "I like the way you work, Santana. I really do. That's probably the only reason why you haven't been warned several times already. But if this keeps up, I'm not going to be able to ignore it forever."

"Understood, sir," Santana said gratefully. "I give you my word that I won't let you down. Thank you."

She breathed a sigh of relief as she exited her boss's office and took a seat at the desk in front of his door. Sure, being a personal assistant wasn't glamorous, but Santana needed a job, and this one had decent health benefits — something she knew she would need when she discovered she was pregnant. The medical expenses that came with carrying and delivering a baby had pretty much depleted any and all savings that she'd managed to keep since starting her job a month after realizing her impending motherhood.

Shaking herself out of her trip down memory lane, Santana started checking emails. She had to start somewhere, and it didn't matter what she did, as long as she and Bella were safe and she could provide for her daughter.

She ignored the voice in her head that taunted her, saying that her daughter had better get used to secondhand clothes.

Kurt found Santana, curled on her bed, in nothing but a towel. Her pillow was soaked with tears, and her body was freezing.

"Come on, Santana, let's get you dressed," he said soothingly.

"She's gone," Santana sobbed. "She's gone. She doesn't love me."

"I'm sure she does." Kurt tried to comfort her, but he'd never seen the usually strong Latina this vulnerable. He'd received the distressing call and come over straight away, deciding that Rachel would probably say the wrong thing and Finn wouldn't actually do anything. "She's probably realizing what a mistake she made, and she's on her way back right now."

Santana lifted her head and looked at Kurt through bleary eyes. "You think so?"

"I'm sure," Kurt replied, smiling. He hoped that his voice sounded more confident than he felt.

"I love her so much, but she doesn't love me back. Why would she leave?" Santana began again, mumbling as her tears started.

Getting up off the bed, Kurt rummaged through Santana's dresser and pulled out a pair of sweatpants and a shirt. Then, he sat back down on the bed, next to where Santana was holding her pillow for dear life.

"Sit up, Santana," he said gently. "You need to put on clothes before you get sick."

Santana sighed and limply held out one arm. Kurt dressed her carefully, not caring that Santana was naked before him. She didn't seem to care either.

"Are you hungry?" he asked once she was dressed.

"Shit! The dinner!" Santana bolted out of bed and ran into the kitchen. Pulling the oven open, she peered inside. The oven had been turned off, but the mac and cheese was pretty much ruined anyway. Brittany must have turned it off before she left. Her thoughtfulness brought on another bout of tears, and Santana crumpled against the cupboards as she sobbed.

"Shhh," Kurt soothed, pulling the Latina into his arms.

"Kurt, what did I do?" Santana cried, burying her face in his chest. "She's never coming back, and it's all my fault."

"She left, Santana, not you."

"But I made her go," Santana insisted. "I'm not good enough for her. She deserves so much better. She deserves the world, and I told her to stay here with me. And she said no."

Kurt frowned. He was quite certain that the Latina had played a small part in Brittany leaving — they all knew the damage her vicious words could do, especially when she was upset — but he couldn't let go of the fact that Brittany had actually left her, that she hadn't tried to work it out before leaving. Long-distance was an option, wasn't it?

"I think you should come home with me," he said.

"B-but what if she comes back to get her stuff?" Santana asked weakly.

"Santana, look at me," Kurt said firmly, gripping her shoulders. "If Brittany wants to leave, then let her leave. If you mean as much to her as she claims, then she'll come back to you."

"B-but I want her now," Santana sobbed. "I don't care if she goes. She needs to know that I love her."

"Then call her, Santana," he said gently, handing her his phone.

Grabbing it, Santana quickly dialed the number she knew by heart. She listened to it ring before someone picked up.

"Br—"

"Look, Kurt, I know you're probably calling because of Santana, but I've made my decision. She won't support me, and I'm done living my life for her. It's time I follow my own dream. I-I'm sorry that it had to come to this, but if I don't do this now, I'll always regret it, and that's not fair to either of us. Take care of her, okay?"

As a dial tone erupted in her ear, Santana dropped the phone. Kurt clutched her as she trembled, sobs vibrating throughout her entire body. He had no idea what to do. Brittany really wasn't coming back.

Santana didn't get out of bed for a week, despite numerous attempts by Kurt, Rachel, and Finn. She hardly ate, just slept and cried. The sounds coming from the spare room in their apartment worried her three friends to the brink of insanity. They just didn't know what to do anymore. She was almost catatonic.

"Finals are coming up for her. She's worked too hard this year to let it all go to waste. We have to get her back into some kind of a normal routine," Rachel said in exasperation for about the 10th time. "She's going to end up killing herself, and I, for one, don't need a scandal like that this early in my career."

"Seriously, Rachel?" Finn frowned at his fiancée. "This is Santana. She's become one of our best friends. She's heartbroken and about two days away from seriously hurting herself, and all you can think about is your career?"

"We have one option left," Kurt said in resignation. "I really didn't want it to come to this, but we have to break out the tough love. It's not going to be pretty, and she's going to fight it tooth and nail, but it has to be done."

"You're right," Finn said, standing up. "What's the first step?"

Kurt looked at the closed bedroom door. "First, we get her out of bed, into the shower, and into clean clothes. Then, she needs to eat something. We'll see how that goes and take it from there. I have a feeling just getting her to do that will be difficult enough."

Rachel and Finn nodded and followed Kurt to the guest room. They opened the door and heard quiet sniffles coming from inside the dark room. Kurt flicked the light switch on, and Santana moaned, throwing the covers over her head.

"Go away," she muttered. "Just leave me alone."

"I'm afraid the time of leaving you alone is over," Kurt said firmly. "We're done watching you waste your life away."

Finn and Kurt went to the side of the bed that Santana was curled up on, and Rachel gripped the duvet, ready to pull it off. At Kurt's nod, Rachel yanked, exposing Santana's tiny frame huddled in a ball.

"Leave me alone!" she cried, hugging herself tighter.

"Finn, take her shoulders," Kurt instructed.

His brother wrapped his huge arms around the top half of Santana's body and held her so that she couldn't get free. Kurt grabbed her legs and, surprising everyone with his strength, held her thrashing legs firmly against the bed.

"Rachel, the shower," he commanded.

Rachel disappeared into the en suite bathroom while Finn and Kurt struggled with a thrashing Santana. This was the most life they'd seen in her since before Brittany left, so it was already progress.

Santana screamed as Finn and Kurt eventually got her into the shower.

"Rachel, I know you're not going to be happy about what happens next, but suck it up, okay?" Kurt said through gritted teeth.

Rachel frowned and watched as Kurt and Finn began to undress the protesting Latina. It wasn't easy. Finn had to keep ahold of Santana's shoulders, which made it difficult to get her shirt off. Setting her jaw, Rachel stepped forward, grabbed the bottom of Santana's shirt, and lifted it. Decency was not important at this point.

Realizing what was happening, Santana started crying. "Why are you doing this?" she sobbed. "Just leave me alone! She doesn't want me anymore. I don't care about anything anymore. I don't care!" She screamed the last part.

"Santana Lopez, you listen to me! I know that your heart is broken, but it will heal. It's going to take a while, but you have to continue living your life." Santana's sobs quietened at Rachel Berry scolding her like a child. "You're going to end up killing yourself if you continue like this! I know it hurts, trust me, but what about all the people here that still love you? You've got me and Kurt and Finn and your parents, and what about your friends at college?"

Santana sniffed, tear tracks still on her face.

"We're all here to help you get through this. We're not going anywhere, Santana, because this isn't something that you should have to deal with on your own. And that's what we're doing now. We're helping you. You can't let yourself waste away anymore."

The Latina tried to free her arms, but Finn and Kurt just held her tighter.

"Let me go." Her voice was resigned, and Rachel held up a hand in agreement. When the boys released her and she fell into Rachel's waiting arms, they exited the bathroom, closing the door behind them.

"Let's get you washed up," Rachel said gently, pulling back and stroking Santana's hair. "How does that sound?"

Santana nodded slowly, then seemed to suddenly realize that she was naked from her pants upwards.

"Oh shit," she muttered, immediately folding her arms across her breasts.

"Relax, Santana." Rachel rolled her eyes and smiled. "I have a pair of those too. Nothing I haven't seen before."

"Those flea bites don't compare to my rambunctious twins," Santana snipped, sounding very much like her old self. Then, her eyes widened. "Sorry," she muttered.

Rachel laughed. "Santana, it's perfectly alright. I almost started insulting myself, because my day just didn't seem complete without one of your comments."

Santana cracked a small, slightly bemused smile. "I've been horrible to you. Why are you being so nice to me?"

"Well, we're friends. And regardless of the fact that we became friends because of a certain blonde who shall remain nameless, I care for you, and to see you hurt like this hurts me."

"Thank you," Santana whispered. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do now though." Her face scrunched up, like a new set of tears was about to escape.

"Let's start with a shower," Rachel suggested. "It'll make you feel better. And then we'll get some lunch. How does that sound?"

Santana took a deep breath and nodded. "Okay."

It took two days for Santana to go back to class. Her grades were suffering, but after a week of getting back into her routine, she was on her way to getting back on track. Finals were just starting, so she used studying as an excuse to try and forget about Brittany. She still cried every night, but at least she was eating and making conversation with Kurt, Rachel, and Finn again.

Surprisingly, she and Rachel grew much closer. If someone had told her in high school that Rachel frigging Berry would become her lifesaver, she would've kicked their ass six ways from Sunday.

After a month, Santana seemed to be coping. She'd done really well on her finals, her freshman year was almost over, she'd regained the weight she'd lost during her week of self-starvation, and she was even smiling a little. She hadn't been back to the apartment that she'd shared with Brittany. Kurt, Rachel, and Finn had gradually been fetching her clothes and toiletries from the apartment.

On a Friday, Santana woke up, then sat up and frowned, moving her facial muscles. Normally, her skin was dry and her eyes sore and puffy from crying, but she felt neither. She stood up and walked to her dressing table, staring at her reflection in the mirror. She looked fine. For the first time since Brittany had left, she'd managed an entire day without crying.

"This calls for a celebration," Rachel declared when Santana told her.

"Berry, it's not a big deal," Santana replied, rolling her eyes. "Let's just be happy that I seem to be moving on."

"Nonsense," Rachel insisted. "We haven't been out in ages. Finn can be our designated driver, and we're going to hit the town tonight."

Santana smiled. "I'm not sure if I want to experience clingy, drunk Berry."

"I'll cling to Finn," Rachel replied with a wink. "Come on, Santana. It'll be fun!"

Santana sighed dramatically. "Fine," she conceded.

That night, she surprised herself by actually having fun. Granted, that fun came in the form of copious amounts of alcohol — way more than she'd had in a very long time.

She remembered dancing with Rachel and giggling over tequila shots, then nothing. Groaning inwardly, Santana forced her eyes open. The first thing she noticed was that she wasn't in her room. The second thing she noticed was that she was naked.

Crap, crap, crap. Shit. Hoping that she hadn't actually done something so horribly stupid, Santana slowly turned her head, dreading what she might find.

All she could see was a head of short, dark hair and an arm across the pillow next to her face. The arm was big — like, man big. Santana swallowed the sudden rise of bile in her throat that she was pretty sure had nothing to do with the amount of alcohol she'd inhaled.

A guy was in the bed next to her. She'd slept with a guy. She'd had drunk sex with a guy.

Fuck.

She needed to get out of there. Santana sat up slowly, ignoring the pounding in her head. God, she was never drinking again. After managing to locate her clothes and bag, she stumbled quietly towards the door of the mystery guy's room. She opened the door and slipped out, glancing around the empty apartment. She breathed a quiet sigh of relief and tiptoed clumsily to the front door.

Once she was outside, Santana took a deep breath and burst into tears.