(no subject)
Title: Love Will Tear Us Apart
Chapter: 2/?
Fandom: Glee
Characters: Santana L, Brittany S, Quinn F, Noah P, Mike C, Rachel B
Genre: Crime, Mystery, Friendship, Romance
Rated: M
Word Count: 3800
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any its characters etc.
Summary: Some memories are best left forgotten, but what happens when they come back to haunt us?
Part 1
L.A., Seven years ago.
"I don't care what you say about the name, those bitches in Valerie's totally loved it." Puck said triumphantly, cracking open a beer and lying back against Santana's legs.
"Whatever, Bacon In My Locker Anytime is the worst name for an opening song in the history of music." Santana complained, draining her glass of jagermeister and reaching for the bottle to pour another.
"To be fair, pleasing the regulars of a club like Valerie's is hardly a huge achievement." Quinn pointed out, nursing a gin and tonic.
"It's a huge achievement when the synth player can't even handle four beers and trips on to stage." Pucked sneered, Quinn scowled and threw an empty beer can at him. Santana giggled deliriously at her friends before standing up to check on Brittany and Mike in the kitchen.
When she entered the dank room she noticed straight away that Brittany had built Mike another of her flawless pipe which he was inhaling deeply from as Brittany held a lighter to the cannabis burning brightly in the socket.
"Can you remember to open a fucking window when you do that shit in here at least?" Santana asked crossly, striding over to the window above the sink and swinging it open. She turned to Brittany and noticed the blonde was pouting with a nervous glint in her eye. Softening immediately under her gaze Santana encircled an arm round her waist and pressed a gentle kiss to the other girl's lips.
Brittany grinned lazily in to the kiss and Santana could taste the intoxicants on her breath. "You want me to make it up to you?" Brittany whispered seductively. Santana almost let out a whimper, post-gig sex was probably her favourite kind after make-up sex. Mike coughed uncomfortably behind them and Brittany giggled, pulling Santana to their tiny bedroom and pushing her forcefully down on the bare mattress.
Half an hour later the two girls lay entangled in each other, Santana stroking Brittany's hair and Brittany drawing shapes on Santana's bare stomach with her fingers.
"San?" Brittany whispered apprehensively, breaking the comfortable and exhausted silence between them.
"Yeah Britt?"
"Can we stay like this forever?"
"Fuck no, once Plates' gets a shit hot record deal we'll be doing it in kingsize beds every night." Santana replied, teasing a strand of blonde hair between her fingers. Brittany poked her stomach playfully,
"Hey! I'm being serious. You and me, forever. Right?"
"Right Britt." Santana said happily, kissing the top of her girlfriend's head before dozing in to a contented slumber.
That weekend Santana, Quinn, Puck and Mike played another set in another seedy club while Brittany kept her eyes locked adoringly on Santana from the bar the entire time. After the band had finished their set and packed away their instruments they made their way over to join Brittany and order their usuals.
As Puck was draining his first beer a pair of strong hands placed themselves over his eyes and a young woman's voice cried out over the rabble of the crowd.
"Guess who!" To his right Santana spat out her first gulp of jagermeister and yelled "Well if it isn't Rachel fuckin' Berry!"
Puck spun round and took in the sight of the ever vertically-challenged Rachel Berry and whooped, picking her up and whirling her around. "I'm not a doll Noah!" she yelped but she was clearly enjoying the attention.
Mike and the two blondes had by now noticed the arrival of their old high school friend and embraced her tightly.
"How did you even know to be here?" Puck yelled over the noise of the club.
"Birthday! Tomorrow!" she yelled back, pointing at Santana, whom thankfully for Puck was facing the bar and ordering a second jagermeister.
"Brittany called me." Rachel continued and Puck nodded in understanding, at the same time mentally kicking himself for forgetting. Brittany was kissing her girlfriend's ear playfully, Santana giggled and turned round to meet the blonde's lips with her own. Puck however smirked at the mischievous look on Brittany's face which clearly said she had been making it as difficult for Santana to overhear as possible.
"Actually it's in half an hour." Quinn interjected, suddenly at Puck's elbow and jerking her thumb towards the clock above the bar which said 11:32pm. Puck swallowed, his throat was suddenly as dry as sandpaper and he ordered another drink.
"What am I gonna do? She'll kill me!" He gasped.
"We knew you'd forget, we have it all figured out." Quinn reassured him with a wink and to the surprise of everyone around them Puck leant down and kissed her full on the lips.
"Did I ever tell you that I love you Fabray?" he yelled over the loud music. Quinn blushed and hit him round the side of the head.
"No, it's about fucking time!"
After they'd all had a couple of drinks they made to return to the apartment in time for midnight. As they were leaving they had to stop outside the club for a moment so Brittany could throw up, not being on stage like the others she'd already been drinking steadily over the course of the evening.
She leant against the concrete wall for support and Santana held her hair back, whispering soothing words of comfort in her hair whilst rubbing her other hand gently up and down Brittany's back.
"Shhh, don't cry babe, it happens to the best of us." the band's lead guitarist and vocalist was saying. Brittany only sobbed harder as she wiped her mouth, "But I'm spoiling your birthday!" she cried. Santana cupped Brittany's face in her hands so that she was forced to look her in the eye.
"Hey." she said seriously.
"You're the best damn thing that ever happened to me, when my watch tells me it's midnight I'll be thanking my lucky stars I'm looking at another year with the most beautiful girl in the world. Got that?" Brittany stopped crying and gave a small smile that still made Santana's heart feel like it was going to punch its way out of her ribcage even after all the years they'd known each other.
As they were waiting to hail down a cab Rachel noticed a pair of girls teetering in high heels outside the club taking pictures of the group of six friends. She felt uneasy, she didn't like the way they were pointing at Brittany leaning weakly against Santana at the side of the road.
"Noah." she whispered, nudging him discreetly. He swept his eyes along the road for a cab once more before training them on Rachel.
"What is it?" he grunted.
"Look at those girls." she replied quietly. By then Quinn had also noticed the faint clicking of their camera and squinted through the dim light of a flickering streetlamp at them. "What are they doing?" she asked, pulling her coat up around her ears anxiously. Puck on the other hand chuckled and smirked.
"They're obviously fans who couldn't get in, look at the size of 'em! Clearly not even legal yet." he observed.
"Neither are any of us." Rachel pointed out.
"We have fake IDs though." Puck countered with a smug grin. Quinn took a step backward and slipped her hand in to Puck's.
"I don't like it, not with Brittany like that." she whispered, nodding behind her at the other blonde who still had her head buried in to Santana's neck.
"If Santana sees them taking pictures, she'll freak." she continued nervously.
Sure enough when the girls saw Puck giving them an encouraging smile (Quinn punched him, hard) they took a few steps closer, continuing with their picture taking and alerting Santana to their presence.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" she snapped, protectively tightening her grip on Brittany. One of the girls backpedalled immediately, dropping her trapper cap and biting her lip. Her companion however, swung the camera towards Santana and Brittany and began chattering excitedly. "You're Spinning Plates!" she exclaimed, her hands visibly shaking. "No shit. What do you want?" Santana snarled.
"We're like, your biggest fans."
"Congrats, you can like, fuck off." Santana said wearily, but the girl took another step forward, unperturbed.
"Is your name really Satan?" she asked, practically spraying Santana as she waited for a reply.
"My name is really shut-that-damn-camera-off-before-I-acquaint-it-with-YOUR-face." she said, her breath rattling in the cold air as she tried simultaneously to both support Brittany's swaying form and shield her from the lens of the camera.
"Santana calm down." Rachel said with as much authority as she could muster under the present circumstances and how much alcohol she had consumed.
"Your real name is Santana? That's like so totally cool, a guitarist named after a guitarist!" the young girl was now saying, raising her camera again. Santana looked like she was about to fly for the girl but Mike stepped forward, holding a roll-up between his fingers.
"Hey girls, you wanna give the camera a rest and relax a little?" he said, giving them his best imitation of a Puck-wink.
"Dude what are you doing?" Puck whispered apprehensively as the girl nodded and even her friend took an uncertain step forward.
"It's the strongest stuff I have, a few puffs of this and we'll be able to shove them in a cab with no trouble whatsoever." Mike whispered back, pulling out his lighter. Puck didn't look convinced but it was definitely a better idea than Santana dealing with them.
While Mike chatted to the girls Puck approached Santana who was glaring at them venomously.
"What the fuck is Mike doing?" she snapped at him.
"Getting them high so we can lose them." Puck explained, looking nervously up and down the road. Santana sighed dramatically and gave Brittany a gentle shake so that she was almost fully supported by Santana.
"We're not getting a cab then?" she asked after a pause.
"I guess not, we'd never get one that will fit all of us and the gear anyway." Quinn said, coming to stand with them while Rachel stood with Mike and the fan girls.
"It's locked in Puck's fucking truck round the corner, which we'd be taking if any of us were sober enough to drive." Santana replied irritably. Puck sighed and put an arm round Quinn.
"Right, so let's walk. Do you need a hand?" he asked, indicating the half-conscious blonde draped across Santana's shoulder.
"I got this thanks." she replied icily. With amazing strength for someone of her height and build Santana nudged Brittany in the ribs and hoisted her up on to her back, whispering for her to hold on tight. Just conscious enough to clasp her hands around Santana's neck Brittany gave a contented sigh and closed her eyes again.
Santana whistled sharply and Mike whipped his head round immediately, "Sup?"
"Let's move, these losers don't want to wait on a cab." she croaked with some difficulty. Carrying Brittany wasn't an impossible feat nor new experience to Santana but it definitely wasn't the easiest task in the world. Mike nodded and gestured to the two girls who looked as though they would wet themselves any second, one out of fear and the other from sheer excitement.
As the eight teens walked through the rapidly darkening streets Santana led them deeper and deeper in to the maze of alleyways which were infamous in their end of the city. Quinn grew uneasy and tightened her icy fingers around Puck's hand. Her eyes darted around constantly and she strained her ears listening for any sounds present other than the incessant giggling of the two strange girls and Mike's lame jokes.
"Santana, I don't like this." she began, catching up with Santana at the front of the group.
"Neither do I, do girls their age ever shut the fuck up?" the livid brunette replied breathlessly.
"They're not that much younger than us, and I meant the way you're taking us back to the apartment, couldn't we have gone closer to a main road?" Quinn asked. Santana looked at Quinn as though she was stupid.
"Are you kidding Fabray? Mike is funnelling marijuana fumes in to their little schoolgirl lungs, you do know that's 'frowned upon' by most cops around at this time of night don't you?" She said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. Quinn considered the point, biting her lip.
"I know but, it can be really dangerous back here."
"I hear it's really dangerous in jail too Quinny, they'll fuck you in the showers whether you're queer or not." Santana shot back, keeping her eyes ahead of her.
"Shut up, can we please just get out this fucking alley? It's giving me the creeps." Quinn pleaded. Santana stopped and everyone behind her crashed in to Puck. "What the fuck San? Keep walking maybe?" he whined, rubbing his backside where Rachel had careered headfirst in to it.
Before Santana could answer however they were surrounded by four men in balaclavas and hoods. Two of them were carrying led pipes and the one nearest Mike and the two girls grinned as the moonlight glinted on the polished barrel of a revolver.
"Good evening ladies." he sneered, starting to pace up and down as the group backed slowly in to the brick wall behind them.
"I fucking told you." Quinn whispered angrily to Santana who looked as though she was about to throw up.
"You got something to say blondie?" the gangleader cooed at her. Puck's fist clenched but Quinn squeezed his arm as a way of warning and he did his best to relax.
"What do you want?" Rachel said out of nowhere, standing up as straight as she could and fighting back the petrified tears at the back of her throat.
"Everything. Your wallets, your keys, your drugs... your whore." he said trailing off and looking pointedly at the unconscious Brittany slumped on Santana's back. Until he said that Santana had been in full survival mode, utterly terrified for no one but the girl she was carrying, wanting nothing more than to be out the stupid fucking alley and away from that gun.
But when he made the mistake of calling Brittany a whore Santana saw red and Brittany slipped off her back in to Quinn's arms and she launched herself forward at the gangleader. Luckily Puck had turned to her the moment the word "whore" left the thug's mouth and thrown his strong arms around Santana's arms and torso, rendering her unable to do nothing but spit and spew a stream of Spanish expletives.
"Back the fuck up you stupid bitch or I'll blow her fucking brains out." the man snarls. Santana stopped moving entirely, as though she were solid ice or petrified wood. The man took a step towards Santana, his gun hanging by his side, and he brought his face right up to hers.
She could feel his beer-stained breath washing over her skin and a new wave of nausea pulsed through her system. All she can think about is how much she hates herself for bringing her friends. For bringing Brittany, down this fucking alley.
The silence was sharp enough to cut glass as the man grabbed Santana's chin in his hand, squeezing her jaw firmly. For a moment it looks as though Puck is going to take a swing but the pleading look in Santana's eyes stops him.
"You know what boys, blondes are pretty boring these days. What do you say we take this little bitch for a test run instead?" the man wondered aloud, causing his companions to snigger and take a step closer.
As Quinn watches the scene unfold before her movement to her right catches her eye and everything seems to fall in to slow motion. Turning her head she sees the girl with the camera moving, not running away, not ducking down, twisting her body past Mike, towards Santana and the man with the gun.
Don't be a hero for your hero. Quinn pleads inside her head. Don't be a fucking hero for us.
But it's too late and her hand is flying towards the man's stomach. It's too late and the startled thug is throwing Santana to the ground. It's too late and a single gunshot can be heard faintly a few blocks away by the regulars smoking outside Valerie's.
Brittany could hear screaming, angry yelling, and she could smell blood. Lots of blood. Opening her eyes she saw Santana grabbing her and pulling in to an embrace so tight she could barely breathe. Opening her eyes properly she took in the scene around her.
Three strange men seem to have rounded on a fourth and were pushing him furiously in the direction of a fire escape. Looking to her left she saw Puck slowly picking up a discarded item on the blood spattered ground. A gun.
"Puck what the fuck are you doing!?" Mike was shouting, Puck didn't seem to be listening though, they'd threatened Santana. The one girl he'd been able to trust more than anyone in the entire freakin' planet since she squeezed out his juice box in to the sandpit in first grade. After taking aim a bullet left the gun for the second time that night.
"Put the fucking gun down!" Quinn was screaming as the shot richotted off the fire escape and went skittering in to the darkness behind them. Brittany closed her eyes again. Even though she wasn't thinking about anything other than the fact one of her best friends was firing a fucking gun, Santana took Brittany's hands in her own and kissed her shoulder.
Rachel was trying to quell the cries of the hysterical fan girl, crouching down by her bleeding friend. Nothing seemed to work though as even Rachel was hyperventilating at the sight of so much blood.
"Noah!" she yelled. Hearing his first name somehow brought him back to reality and he swung round to look at Rachel. His eyes darted to the girl lying on the ground, then to the gun in his hands. The girl, and back to the gun.
He felt Quinn's hand on his shoulder and he finally came to his senses, dropping the gun to the stone floor with a clatter.
"We have to go, now." a voice was saying in his ear. He turned to face his companions and remembered there was a girl lying on the ground in her own blood, probably dying.
Rachel had already dialled 911 and thrust the phone in to the hands of the girl's friend.
"Rachel, seriously? You're fucking making her take the call?" Quinn asked incredulously. Rachel looked up at them all with dark eyes before dragging herself to her feet and whispering to her friends.
"If we get involved in this it's over for all of us."
"Are you fucking crazy Berry? We ARE involved, that girl just got shot and it's our fucking fault." Quinn replied in a low yet furious voice. Rachel glared at her before bending down and gingerly picking up the still-warm revolver with her sleeve.
"Yeah, she's just been shot with the gun Puck's just fucking fired."
"So we're just gonna run?"
"What other choice do we have? Even without the gun I know Mike and Santana will be carrying at least ten grams of coke between the pair of them, it is a gig night after all." Rachel was saying. Santana clenched her fist, reluctantly absorbing the information and realizing that Rachel was right.
"Berry's right, if we stick around for the cops showing up we're all screwed." she said through gritted teeth. Quinn stared at her as though she'd gone crazy.
"Are you serious Santana?"
"Deadly, pull yourselves together and take the next left, Mike knows the way from there." she replied, jerking her head to the alley behind them. Nudging Brittany again she looked pointedly at Mike who took her from Santana in his arms like an exhausted toddler and nodded for the rest to follow him.
"What are you doing Santana?" Quinn asked as Santana pushed her towards Mike.
"Cleaning up this mess, I won't be far behind."
"Don't do anything stupid." she warned. Santana simply swallowed and jerked her head towards Mike again. Reluctantly Quinn followed and Santana was left with the sobbing girl still clutching Rachel's cellphone whilst vainly attempting to the stem the flow of blood.
"I'll need that back." Santana said quietly. Seemingly noticing that she was very much alone with her wounded friend and Santana, the girl looked up with fear scarred in to her features and shakily held the phone out to her.
Santana pocketed it then knelt down on the other side of the girl lying on the floor.
"What's your name?" she asked softly.
"S-Sophia." the girl said as though she thought Santana were crazy for asking that question in their current situation.
"Sophia, pretty." Santana murmured, then picking up the gun which lay only a foot away she suddenly slammed Sophia in to the brick wall behind her, pressing the barrel of the gun under the petrified girl's chin.
"Here's the deal, Sophia. You're gonna get in that ambulance when it gets here, you're gonna go with your friend to the hospital. When you get there there's gonna be police swarming round you, they're gonna be asking you questions. Know what you're gonna tell 'em?" Santana said this all very carefully so that Sophia couldn't possibly have missed a word. The girl shook her head and Santana pressed the barrel further in to the girl's jaw and she gagged slightly.
"Wrong answer. You're gonna tell 'em about those fucking assholes that just shot your friend. You're gonna tell them you were on the way to the subway station, you're gonna tell them you've never even fuckin' heard of Spinning Plates, let alone seen them. And the same goes for our two friends. With me so far?" Santana growled. The girl nodded this time and Santana gave her an encouraging smile.
"Good, because if you ever tell anyone. And I mean anyone, that you saw us tonight." Santana paused for a moment, her finger stroking the trigger of the gun in such a way that Sophia's eyes followed the movement, mesmerized. Then Santana put her face so close to the girl's their eyelashes were almost touching, and whispered chillingly
"I'll kill you with my bare fucking hands."
With that Santana dropped the girl and pocketed the gun, before running faster than she'd ever run in her life.
Chapter: 2/?
Fandom: Glee
Characters: Santana L, Brittany S, Quinn F, Noah P, Mike C, Rachel B
Genre: Crime, Mystery, Friendship, Romance
Rated: M
Word Count: 3800
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any its characters etc.
Summary: Some memories are best left forgotten, but what happens when they come back to haunt us?
Part 1
L.A., Seven years ago.
"I don't care what you say about the name, those bitches in Valerie's totally loved it." Puck said triumphantly, cracking open a beer and lying back against Santana's legs.
"Whatever, Bacon In My Locker Anytime is the worst name for an opening song in the history of music." Santana complained, draining her glass of jagermeister and reaching for the bottle to pour another.
"To be fair, pleasing the regulars of a club like Valerie's is hardly a huge achievement." Quinn pointed out, nursing a gin and tonic.
"It's a huge achievement when the synth player can't even handle four beers and trips on to stage." Pucked sneered, Quinn scowled and threw an empty beer can at him. Santana giggled deliriously at her friends before standing up to check on Brittany and Mike in the kitchen.
When she entered the dank room she noticed straight away that Brittany had built Mike another of her flawless pipe which he was inhaling deeply from as Brittany held a lighter to the cannabis burning brightly in the socket.
"Can you remember to open a fucking window when you do that shit in here at least?" Santana asked crossly, striding over to the window above the sink and swinging it open. She turned to Brittany and noticed the blonde was pouting with a nervous glint in her eye. Softening immediately under her gaze Santana encircled an arm round her waist and pressed a gentle kiss to the other girl's lips.
Brittany grinned lazily in to the kiss and Santana could taste the intoxicants on her breath. "You want me to make it up to you?" Brittany whispered seductively. Santana almost let out a whimper, post-gig sex was probably her favourite kind after make-up sex. Mike coughed uncomfortably behind them and Brittany giggled, pulling Santana to their tiny bedroom and pushing her forcefully down on the bare mattress.
Half an hour later the two girls lay entangled in each other, Santana stroking Brittany's hair and Brittany drawing shapes on Santana's bare stomach with her fingers.
"San?" Brittany whispered apprehensively, breaking the comfortable and exhausted silence between them.
"Yeah Britt?"
"Can we stay like this forever?"
"Fuck no, once Plates' gets a shit hot record deal we'll be doing it in kingsize beds every night." Santana replied, teasing a strand of blonde hair between her fingers. Brittany poked her stomach playfully,
"Hey! I'm being serious. You and me, forever. Right?"
"Right Britt." Santana said happily, kissing the top of her girlfriend's head before dozing in to a contented slumber.
That weekend Santana, Quinn, Puck and Mike played another set in another seedy club while Brittany kept her eyes locked adoringly on Santana from the bar the entire time. After the band had finished their set and packed away their instruments they made their way over to join Brittany and order their usuals.
As Puck was draining his first beer a pair of strong hands placed themselves over his eyes and a young woman's voice cried out over the rabble of the crowd.
"Guess who!" To his right Santana spat out her first gulp of jagermeister and yelled "Well if it isn't Rachel fuckin' Berry!"
Puck spun round and took in the sight of the ever vertically-challenged Rachel Berry and whooped, picking her up and whirling her around. "I'm not a doll Noah!" she yelped but she was clearly enjoying the attention.
Mike and the two blondes had by now noticed the arrival of their old high school friend and embraced her tightly.
"How did you even know to be here?" Puck yelled over the noise of the club.
"Birthday! Tomorrow!" she yelled back, pointing at Santana, whom thankfully for Puck was facing the bar and ordering a second jagermeister.
"Brittany called me." Rachel continued and Puck nodded in understanding, at the same time mentally kicking himself for forgetting. Brittany was kissing her girlfriend's ear playfully, Santana giggled and turned round to meet the blonde's lips with her own. Puck however smirked at the mischievous look on Brittany's face which clearly said she had been making it as difficult for Santana to overhear as possible.
"Actually it's in half an hour." Quinn interjected, suddenly at Puck's elbow and jerking her thumb towards the clock above the bar which said 11:32pm. Puck swallowed, his throat was suddenly as dry as sandpaper and he ordered another drink.
"What am I gonna do? She'll kill me!" He gasped.
"We knew you'd forget, we have it all figured out." Quinn reassured him with a wink and to the surprise of everyone around them Puck leant down and kissed her full on the lips.
"Did I ever tell you that I love you Fabray?" he yelled over the loud music. Quinn blushed and hit him round the side of the head.
"No, it's about fucking time!"
After they'd all had a couple of drinks they made to return to the apartment in time for midnight. As they were leaving they had to stop outside the club for a moment so Brittany could throw up, not being on stage like the others she'd already been drinking steadily over the course of the evening.
She leant against the concrete wall for support and Santana held her hair back, whispering soothing words of comfort in her hair whilst rubbing her other hand gently up and down Brittany's back.
"Shhh, don't cry babe, it happens to the best of us." the band's lead guitarist and vocalist was saying. Brittany only sobbed harder as she wiped her mouth, "But I'm spoiling your birthday!" she cried. Santana cupped Brittany's face in her hands so that she was forced to look her in the eye.
"Hey." she said seriously.
"You're the best damn thing that ever happened to me, when my watch tells me it's midnight I'll be thanking my lucky stars I'm looking at another year with the most beautiful girl in the world. Got that?" Brittany stopped crying and gave a small smile that still made Santana's heart feel like it was going to punch its way out of her ribcage even after all the years they'd known each other.
As they were waiting to hail down a cab Rachel noticed a pair of girls teetering in high heels outside the club taking pictures of the group of six friends. She felt uneasy, she didn't like the way they were pointing at Brittany leaning weakly against Santana at the side of the road.
"Noah." she whispered, nudging him discreetly. He swept his eyes along the road for a cab once more before training them on Rachel.
"What is it?" he grunted.
"Look at those girls." she replied quietly. By then Quinn had also noticed the faint clicking of their camera and squinted through the dim light of a flickering streetlamp at them. "What are they doing?" she asked, pulling her coat up around her ears anxiously. Puck on the other hand chuckled and smirked.
"They're obviously fans who couldn't get in, look at the size of 'em! Clearly not even legal yet." he observed.
"Neither are any of us." Rachel pointed out.
"We have fake IDs though." Puck countered with a smug grin. Quinn took a step backward and slipped her hand in to Puck's.
"I don't like it, not with Brittany like that." she whispered, nodding behind her at the other blonde who still had her head buried in to Santana's neck.
"If Santana sees them taking pictures, she'll freak." she continued nervously.
Sure enough when the girls saw Puck giving them an encouraging smile (Quinn punched him, hard) they took a few steps closer, continuing with their picture taking and alerting Santana to their presence.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" she snapped, protectively tightening her grip on Brittany. One of the girls backpedalled immediately, dropping her trapper cap and biting her lip. Her companion however, swung the camera towards Santana and Brittany and began chattering excitedly. "You're Spinning Plates!" she exclaimed, her hands visibly shaking. "No shit. What do you want?" Santana snarled.
"We're like, your biggest fans."
"Congrats, you can like, fuck off." Santana said wearily, but the girl took another step forward, unperturbed.
"Is your name really Satan?" she asked, practically spraying Santana as she waited for a reply.
"My name is really shut-that-damn-camera-off-before-I-acquaint-it-with-YOUR-face." she said, her breath rattling in the cold air as she tried simultaneously to both support Brittany's swaying form and shield her from the lens of the camera.
"Santana calm down." Rachel said with as much authority as she could muster under the present circumstances and how much alcohol she had consumed.
"Your real name is Santana? That's like so totally cool, a guitarist named after a guitarist!" the young girl was now saying, raising her camera again. Santana looked like she was about to fly for the girl but Mike stepped forward, holding a roll-up between his fingers.
"Hey girls, you wanna give the camera a rest and relax a little?" he said, giving them his best imitation of a Puck-wink.
"Dude what are you doing?" Puck whispered apprehensively as the girl nodded and even her friend took an uncertain step forward.
"It's the strongest stuff I have, a few puffs of this and we'll be able to shove them in a cab with no trouble whatsoever." Mike whispered back, pulling out his lighter. Puck didn't look convinced but it was definitely a better idea than Santana dealing with them.
While Mike chatted to the girls Puck approached Santana who was glaring at them venomously.
"What the fuck is Mike doing?" she snapped at him.
"Getting them high so we can lose them." Puck explained, looking nervously up and down the road. Santana sighed dramatically and gave Brittany a gentle shake so that she was almost fully supported by Santana.
"We're not getting a cab then?" she asked after a pause.
"I guess not, we'd never get one that will fit all of us and the gear anyway." Quinn said, coming to stand with them while Rachel stood with Mike and the fan girls.
"It's locked in Puck's fucking truck round the corner, which we'd be taking if any of us were sober enough to drive." Santana replied irritably. Puck sighed and put an arm round Quinn.
"Right, so let's walk. Do you need a hand?" he asked, indicating the half-conscious blonde draped across Santana's shoulder.
"I got this thanks." she replied icily. With amazing strength for someone of her height and build Santana nudged Brittany in the ribs and hoisted her up on to her back, whispering for her to hold on tight. Just conscious enough to clasp her hands around Santana's neck Brittany gave a contented sigh and closed her eyes again.
Santana whistled sharply and Mike whipped his head round immediately, "Sup?"
"Let's move, these losers don't want to wait on a cab." she croaked with some difficulty. Carrying Brittany wasn't an impossible feat nor new experience to Santana but it definitely wasn't the easiest task in the world. Mike nodded and gestured to the two girls who looked as though they would wet themselves any second, one out of fear and the other from sheer excitement.
As the eight teens walked through the rapidly darkening streets Santana led them deeper and deeper in to the maze of alleyways which were infamous in their end of the city. Quinn grew uneasy and tightened her icy fingers around Puck's hand. Her eyes darted around constantly and she strained her ears listening for any sounds present other than the incessant giggling of the two strange girls and Mike's lame jokes.
"Santana, I don't like this." she began, catching up with Santana at the front of the group.
"Neither do I, do girls their age ever shut the fuck up?" the livid brunette replied breathlessly.
"They're not that much younger than us, and I meant the way you're taking us back to the apartment, couldn't we have gone closer to a main road?" Quinn asked. Santana looked at Quinn as though she was stupid.
"Are you kidding Fabray? Mike is funnelling marijuana fumes in to their little schoolgirl lungs, you do know that's 'frowned upon' by most cops around at this time of night don't you?" She said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. Quinn considered the point, biting her lip.
"I know but, it can be really dangerous back here."
"I hear it's really dangerous in jail too Quinny, they'll fuck you in the showers whether you're queer or not." Santana shot back, keeping her eyes ahead of her.
"Shut up, can we please just get out this fucking alley? It's giving me the creeps." Quinn pleaded. Santana stopped and everyone behind her crashed in to Puck. "What the fuck San? Keep walking maybe?" he whined, rubbing his backside where Rachel had careered headfirst in to it.
Before Santana could answer however they were surrounded by four men in balaclavas and hoods. Two of them were carrying led pipes and the one nearest Mike and the two girls grinned as the moonlight glinted on the polished barrel of a revolver.
"Good evening ladies." he sneered, starting to pace up and down as the group backed slowly in to the brick wall behind them.
"I fucking told you." Quinn whispered angrily to Santana who looked as though she was about to throw up.
"You got something to say blondie?" the gangleader cooed at her. Puck's fist clenched but Quinn squeezed his arm as a way of warning and he did his best to relax.
"What do you want?" Rachel said out of nowhere, standing up as straight as she could and fighting back the petrified tears at the back of her throat.
"Everything. Your wallets, your keys, your drugs... your whore." he said trailing off and looking pointedly at the unconscious Brittany slumped on Santana's back. Until he said that Santana had been in full survival mode, utterly terrified for no one but the girl she was carrying, wanting nothing more than to be out the stupid fucking alley and away from that gun.
But when he made the mistake of calling Brittany a whore Santana saw red and Brittany slipped off her back in to Quinn's arms and she launched herself forward at the gangleader. Luckily Puck had turned to her the moment the word "whore" left the thug's mouth and thrown his strong arms around Santana's arms and torso, rendering her unable to do nothing but spit and spew a stream of Spanish expletives.
"Back the fuck up you stupid bitch or I'll blow her fucking brains out." the man snarls. Santana stopped moving entirely, as though she were solid ice or petrified wood. The man took a step towards Santana, his gun hanging by his side, and he brought his face right up to hers.
She could feel his beer-stained breath washing over her skin and a new wave of nausea pulsed through her system. All she can think about is how much she hates herself for bringing her friends. For bringing Brittany, down this fucking alley.
The silence was sharp enough to cut glass as the man grabbed Santana's chin in his hand, squeezing her jaw firmly. For a moment it looks as though Puck is going to take a swing but the pleading look in Santana's eyes stops him.
"You know what boys, blondes are pretty boring these days. What do you say we take this little bitch for a test run instead?" the man wondered aloud, causing his companions to snigger and take a step closer.
As Quinn watches the scene unfold before her movement to her right catches her eye and everything seems to fall in to slow motion. Turning her head she sees the girl with the camera moving, not running away, not ducking down, twisting her body past Mike, towards Santana and the man with the gun.
Don't be a hero for your hero. Quinn pleads inside her head. Don't be a fucking hero for us.
But it's too late and her hand is flying towards the man's stomach. It's too late and the startled thug is throwing Santana to the ground. It's too late and a single gunshot can be heard faintly a few blocks away by the regulars smoking outside Valerie's.
Brittany could hear screaming, angry yelling, and she could smell blood. Lots of blood. Opening her eyes she saw Santana grabbing her and pulling in to an embrace so tight she could barely breathe. Opening her eyes properly she took in the scene around her.
Three strange men seem to have rounded on a fourth and were pushing him furiously in the direction of a fire escape. Looking to her left she saw Puck slowly picking up a discarded item on the blood spattered ground. A gun.
"Puck what the fuck are you doing!?" Mike was shouting, Puck didn't seem to be listening though, they'd threatened Santana. The one girl he'd been able to trust more than anyone in the entire freakin' planet since she squeezed out his juice box in to the sandpit in first grade. After taking aim a bullet left the gun for the second time that night.
"Put the fucking gun down!" Quinn was screaming as the shot richotted off the fire escape and went skittering in to the darkness behind them. Brittany closed her eyes again. Even though she wasn't thinking about anything other than the fact one of her best friends was firing a fucking gun, Santana took Brittany's hands in her own and kissed her shoulder.
Rachel was trying to quell the cries of the hysterical fan girl, crouching down by her bleeding friend. Nothing seemed to work though as even Rachel was hyperventilating at the sight of so much blood.
"Noah!" she yelled. Hearing his first name somehow brought him back to reality and he swung round to look at Rachel. His eyes darted to the girl lying on the ground, then to the gun in his hands. The girl, and back to the gun.
He felt Quinn's hand on his shoulder and he finally came to his senses, dropping the gun to the stone floor with a clatter.
"We have to go, now." a voice was saying in his ear. He turned to face his companions and remembered there was a girl lying on the ground in her own blood, probably dying.
Rachel had already dialled 911 and thrust the phone in to the hands of the girl's friend.
"Rachel, seriously? You're fucking making her take the call?" Quinn asked incredulously. Rachel looked up at them all with dark eyes before dragging herself to her feet and whispering to her friends.
"If we get involved in this it's over for all of us."
"Are you fucking crazy Berry? We ARE involved, that girl just got shot and it's our fucking fault." Quinn replied in a low yet furious voice. Rachel glared at her before bending down and gingerly picking up the still-warm revolver with her sleeve.
"Yeah, she's just been shot with the gun Puck's just fucking fired."
"So we're just gonna run?"
"What other choice do we have? Even without the gun I know Mike and Santana will be carrying at least ten grams of coke between the pair of them, it is a gig night after all." Rachel was saying. Santana clenched her fist, reluctantly absorbing the information and realizing that Rachel was right.
"Berry's right, if we stick around for the cops showing up we're all screwed." she said through gritted teeth. Quinn stared at her as though she'd gone crazy.
"Are you serious Santana?"
"Deadly, pull yourselves together and take the next left, Mike knows the way from there." she replied, jerking her head to the alley behind them. Nudging Brittany again she looked pointedly at Mike who took her from Santana in his arms like an exhausted toddler and nodded for the rest to follow him.
"What are you doing Santana?" Quinn asked as Santana pushed her towards Mike.
"Cleaning up this mess, I won't be far behind."
"Don't do anything stupid." she warned. Santana simply swallowed and jerked her head towards Mike again. Reluctantly Quinn followed and Santana was left with the sobbing girl still clutching Rachel's cellphone whilst vainly attempting to the stem the flow of blood.
"I'll need that back." Santana said quietly. Seemingly noticing that she was very much alone with her wounded friend and Santana, the girl looked up with fear scarred in to her features and shakily held the phone out to her.
Santana pocketed it then knelt down on the other side of the girl lying on the floor.
"What's your name?" she asked softly.
"S-Sophia." the girl said as though she thought Santana were crazy for asking that question in their current situation.
"Sophia, pretty." Santana murmured, then picking up the gun which lay only a foot away she suddenly slammed Sophia in to the brick wall behind her, pressing the barrel of the gun under the petrified girl's chin.
"Here's the deal, Sophia. You're gonna get in that ambulance when it gets here, you're gonna go with your friend to the hospital. When you get there there's gonna be police swarming round you, they're gonna be asking you questions. Know what you're gonna tell 'em?" Santana said this all very carefully so that Sophia couldn't possibly have missed a word. The girl shook her head and Santana pressed the barrel further in to the girl's jaw and she gagged slightly.
"Wrong answer. You're gonna tell 'em about those fucking assholes that just shot your friend. You're gonna tell them you were on the way to the subway station, you're gonna tell them you've never even fuckin' heard of Spinning Plates, let alone seen them. And the same goes for our two friends. With me so far?" Santana growled. The girl nodded this time and Santana gave her an encouraging smile.
"Good, because if you ever tell anyone. And I mean anyone, that you saw us tonight." Santana paused for a moment, her finger stroking the trigger of the gun in such a way that Sophia's eyes followed the movement, mesmerized. Then Santana put her face so close to the girl's their eyelashes were almost touching, and whispered chillingly
"I'll kill you with my bare fucking hands."
With that Santana dropped the girl and pocketed the gun, before running faster than she'd ever run in her life.