For the next week, it was constant preparation. Santana, though more prepared then before, was still extremely nervous. Who wouldn't be? At school, things were going as well as they could be going- that is, not very well. Santana was still putting up with people making fun of her trauma, while Quinn was dealing with pissed off Cheerios. In addition to that, they were both still getting homophobic comments getting thrown their way. It was a lot to put up with, but at least they had each other.
Soon enough, it was the day of the trial. Santana woke up at 4:00 am- she couldn't sleep. Sitting up, she walked groggily into the kitchen. Maybe a little snack would help her sleep. Opening the fridge, she heard a voice from behind her. "Hey, watcha doing?" Santana let out a soft scream of surprise before realizing it was just Quinn. "Oh god, sorry." Santana let out a shaky breath and smiled weakly.
"Nah, you're good." She looked through the fridge. "What are you doing up?" Quinn shrugged.
"I could ask you the same thing," Quinn replied. Sighing, she sat down on a nearby chair. "Couldn't sleep." Santana nodded in understanding. "Well, now that we're both up, we might as well do something before we go back to sleep."
Santana suddenly got a completely random thought. "Hey... we're dating, right?" Quinn nodded. "And... we've never gone on a proper date." Quinn raised her eyebrows at the realization. "Do you wanna... go on a date?"
Quinn laughed. "You want to go out to a fancy restaurant at 4:00 am on a weekday?" Santana shook her head quickly and rolled her eyes.
"No, obviously. But maybe we can create our own romantic date here in your apartment." She smiled. "It might help us de-stress a bit too."
Quinn thought for a moment, then shrugged. "Why the heck not," she said. "Okay, so you're in charge of the food, and I'll help create a romantic vibe." Recognizing how ridiculous this was, she couldn't help but be excited as she walked into her little storage closet to try and find something to use.
She came out soon after holding what looked like candles. Santana raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure candles are allowed in this apartment?" Quinn smirked. She pressed a button on the bottom of one of them, and it flickered on.
"Electric," she explained. "They were for a school project a while ago." She placed them around the table, turning them all on. "What did you find for the food?" Santana grinned and showed Quinn what she had pulled out of the fridge. "Pizza rolls? Really San?"
Santana placed her hand on her heart dramatically. "Wow, Q, I'm offended. Personally, I believe pizza rolls are perfect for creating a relaxed and amorous atmosphere." She took out a couple and placed them on a plate. "What's more romantic than artificial cheese and questionably fresh tomato sauce wrapped in fried dough?" Quinn snorted.
"Geez, what's with you talking all fancy? Is Berry rubbing off on you?" Santana laughed as she put the rolls in the microwave.
"No, I think it's just how I act at 4:00 am in the morning." Soon, the rolls were cooked. Santana placed the plate on the table, and pulled out a chair. "Please sit, mademoiselle." Quinn rolled her eyes, but smiled and sat down. Santana pulled out her own chair across the table and settled down. "Well, I don't know about you, but I think this is the perfect date."
Quinn smiled warmly. "Yeah, I agree." Taking a bite of one of the pizza rolls, she wrinkled her nose. "Yum, tastes like burnt cheese." Despite this, she took another bite. Santana started eating the other roll, and took Quinn's hand from across the table.
"You look beautiful," Santana said softly. She was only half joking- even though Quinn had bedhead and was in her pajamas, she still had those same hazel eyes and that same enrapturing smile.
Quinn was glad that it was pretty dark, because her face turned red. "I, uh, you look beautiful too." Santana smirked at Quinn's flustered response. She leaned over and gently took the blonde's face in her hands, kissing her on the lips. Quinn allowed herself to relax, and sides of her mouth turned up in a smile. After she pulled away, she absentmindedly played with Santana's fingers. "That was great, but kind of random." Santana shrugged.
"Yeah. It's just... so much is going to happen later today. I want this moment to just be about us." Quinn didn't reply, just nodded in understanding. So, they made it about them. They talked about how they were doing, how their grades were, and other inconsequential topics. To anyone else, it might have looked like casual small talk. For them, it was a temporary escape from reality.
Unfortunately, it was soon time for their "date" to end. Quinn yawned. "We should probably try and get a little more sleep. Big day." Santana's lips formed into a small pout, and Quinn brushed her shoulder with her hand. "Hey, you don't want to fall asleep in the middle of the trial, do you?" Santana reluctantly agreed, and suddenly realized that she was feeling pretty drowsy.
They got into Quinn's bed, and Santana nestled into the blonde's body. They fit together like a pair of puzzle pieces, and once again fell asleep in each other's arms.
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"Come on San, we have to get ready!" Quinn called. The trial was in the morning, and Santana wanted to sleep in. "Angel, wake up please." Using her nickname got the girl's attention.
"Five more minutes," Santana mumbled. Quinn groaned, and walked over to the bed. She yanked of the covers, causing a wave of cold air to hit Santana. "Gah, Quinn!" Santana sighed, but grumpily stood up. "Fine, fine, I'm getting ready." Quinn smirked, and gestured towards her closet.
"Feel free to wear whatever in there you want, I already took out the clothes I need." Santana looked through the closet, took out a few items, and went into the bathroom to change.
After Santana was done, she opened the door to see Quinn in a suit. It was different, but Santana loved it. The suit was a dark gray, with a white shirt, and she had matching dark gray pants. Quinn looked slightly nervous. "Is it a bit weird? You know, too boyish-" She was cut off when Santana ran forward and kissed her.
"It looks perfect," Santana promised. Blushing, Quinn took in Santana's outfit. She was wearing a beige sweater with a medium-length white skirt. "How do I look?"
Quinn neatened up her suit collar and smiled. "You look ready for a trial." Seeing Santana's expectant expression, she rolled her eyes. "Fine, you look hot too." Santana smirked in satisfaction. "Ugh, come on, let's go to the trial."
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As they neared the courtroom, Santana's heart raced faster and faster. The best thing she could compare the feeling to was stepping onstage in Nationals, except for a million times worse. Once she reached the doors of the building, she paused, taking it in. Quinn walked up to stand next to her.
"Your hands are shaking," Quinn murmured. She took Santana's hands, and held them until they stopped. "Are you ready?"
Santana took a deep breath, stood up straighter, and tried to calm her nerves. "Honestly, it doesn't matter if I'm ready or not. It's happening." She took Quinn's hand. "Let's get this over with."
The courtroom was big- well, at least it felt big. It occurred to Santana that this room of old, adult, strangers were about to know all her darkest secrets. Looking around desperately for a familiar face, she was relieved when she saw Tim. He smiled and walked over to them.
"Hey, nice to see you two." He flashed Santana a look of sympathy. "I know it can be kind of overwhelming, but try not to worry too much." He noticed that some people were staring at them. "Quinn, you should probably go sit down now. Santana, you can come with me." Quinn gave Santana one last hug, and hurried over to a seat.
Santana sat down nervously next to Stan at one of the two tables in the front. At the moment, the other table was empty. Just as she noticed this, she saw two men sit down at it. One of them was a stuffy looking man in a suit- probably an attorney- and the other was her father. As their eyes met, she saw that his eyes were gleaming with hatred. Santana looked away, but she could feel his gaze burning into her back.
"The court is now in session," a voice called out. The judge was a scrawny man sitting in the front of the room. After a few more words, the real trial started. "Santana Lopez is accusing her father, Xavier Lopez, of domestic abuse and sexual assault." The words were met with a tense silence. "Ms. Lopez, would you mind telling the court about your experiences in more detail?" Santana stood up, feeling a bit unsteady on her feet. She couldn't do this. She couldn't. Glancing back, she saw Quinn giving her an encouraging and comforting look. Closing her eyes for a moment, Santana faced the judge and nodded.
"Yeah. He started out by being more verbally abusive, by screaming at me and calling me things." She paused. "Then, he started hitting me. He would punch, kick, and slap me, among other things. He would also lock me in closets, put emetics in my food, tape me to the wall, and throw objects at me." She clenched her fists. "And... he raped me." She realized her nails were starting to draw blood from her palms, and she made herself relax. "That's not all he did, but it's most of it." She glared at her father, who's expression was unreadable now. "He made me a scared person. He never did anything that a father should do- to me, he was just a monster." She sat down, and Tim gave her a quick thumbs up.
The judge cleared his throat. "Okay, thank you. The defense may now speak." Her father's lawyer stood up.
"Thank you Your Honor." He turned to Santana. "Your mother passed away a year ago, correct?"
"Yes."
"And would you say that you were closer to your mom than your dad?" Santana narrowed her eyes.
"Yes..."
"So by that logic, after her death, you could have harbored some anger towards your father." There were murmurs of confusion and surprise. Were they trying to make her out to be the villain here?
"I... what?" She shook her head. "No, I don't see why I would be mad at him."
The attorney raised an eyebrow. "Mhm." He continued. "And you have a history of self-harm?" Santana suppressed a groan. Of course they would go there.
"Yes. But-" She was cut off.
"So, in theory, you could have harmed yourself in your grief, and to avoid explaining, you blamed your father." There was more shocked chattering, and Santana lost her temper a little.
"What- that's stupid! How the hell-" Tim gave her a look of warning, and Santana bit her tongue. "I'm sorry. No, that's not plausible at all."
There was more chaos in the courtroom, and the judge raised his voice. "Order!" Everyone immediately fell silent. "Prosecution, your response?" Tim stood up and adjusted his bow tie.
"Thanks, Your Honor." He clasped his hands together. "First off, let me get one thing out of the way- the defense's case is utterly ridiculous." He turned to the defense attorney. "So you're saying that Santana blamed her father for her mother's death, harmed herself, many times in places that would be close to impossible for her to reach, and blamed it on him?" He didn't stop talking. "And not only that, but she ran to her friend's house when she, by your explanation, hurts herself too much?"
Tim took a breath. "I'm sorry for that tangent. Anyways, let me get rid of any remaining doubt that Xavier is innocent. For one thing, according to reports from teachers, Santana gets tense and fearful whenever her father is present. We also have images that Santana herself had taken whenever she got an injury from her father. If she had truly been hurting herself, what reason would she have had to do that?" He let that information sink in for a moment.
"Finally, the main reason Santana's injuries could not have been self-inflicted. From the hospital reports, we know that when she was admitted, she had a variety of cuts and bruises all over her body. However, in addition to this, she had one injury that shocked the doctors- a word cut into her back." Santana tensed- this was bringing back some bad memories. "The word... dyke." The judge's eyes widened. "The word was written with such precision and control that it obviously could not have been her." Tim sat down. "With that, I hope I have thoroughly convinced you that Santana is not lying. This is a sad and horrible case of child abuse."
The judge appeared to have been enraptured by Tim's speech, and blinked. "Thank you, Mr. Reynolds. The jury will now discuss, and we will resume as soon as possible." A group of older men gathered together, and left the room. After they were gone, the remaining people started to mingle. Quinn ran up to her and almost knocked her over with an embrace.
"You did amazing," Quinn said. She nodded to Tim. "You did great too. Thank you so much." Tim smiled. "We're winning this case for sure." For once, Santana was reassured.
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Soon, the judge came back along with the older men. "We have debated, and have come to a unanimous decision." The air was thick in the room, and Santana found herself gripping Tim's hand. "We have decided...
That Xavier Lopez is found guilty of domestic abuse and rape, and will face 25 years in prison."
Once she heard those words, Santana felt as if she could breathe properly for the first time since he started abusing her. It was really happening- he was going to prison. He would be out of her life.
Suddenly, she heard someone slow clapping.
Turning, she saw her father sitting back in his chair, his face surprisingly relaxed. "Well, Santana, you did it. You've officially destroyed the life of your last remaining family." She felt her chest grow tight once again. "Congratulations." The judge banged his gavel.
"Mr. Lopez, it is not your time to talk." He sighed. "Court is now adjourned." Quinn ran up to Santana once again, and gave her a concerned glance.
"Are you..." She stopped when Santana's father practically lunged up to her. She yelled in surprise, and he gripped her shoulders.
"You know, since I'm going to be off to prison soon, I have to tell you something." He leaned in close, as if he was going to whisper, but he didn't lower his voice. "I never loved you. I didn't suddenly start hating you after your mother died- who you are responsible for- I always hated you. Your mother, too- I never loved her either." Santana felt like she was about to faint, and men were starting to pull him away. "Oh, and one more thing. Valeria? I wasn't joking." To anyone else, that would have sounded confusing and out of place. But to Santana, that meant so many things.
Valeria was a family friend- a pretty young woman who would come to visit occasionally. Her father would always joke, saying to her mom, "Be careful Maria, I might just decide to have some fun with Valeria." In hindsight, it was a creepy joke. But if he wasn't lying... that meant... that he had cheated on her mother.
"No, you're lying." Santana stammered. He smirked.
"Ha, if you want to believe that, so be it." He shrugged. "She was a very beautiful woman, what can I say." He was pulled away, leaving Santana standing there, frozen. Broken. She knew that her father was a flawed man- probably the most flawed man she had ever encountered- but she knew that what he had just said wasn't a lie. He had never loved them. Never.
Before Santana knew what she was doing, she was running out of the courtroom. She heard Quinn calling out to her, but she didn't come back. She ran. She ran until she reached the building she was looking for- the practically abandoned hardware store. She ran through the doors, then ran up the stairs. All the way up to the roof.
As she stood there, on the roof of the building, looking over the railing, she almost laughed. There she was, running away from her problems once again. Like a coward. She was a coward. Her thoughts were frenzied, irrational. She believed this was the only solution.
She had told herself that her father was hitting her because he was "oh so broken by grief". But no. Maybe she was just so damn easy to hate. Her mother- her wonderful mother- had been lied to by her asshole father.
She climbed up onto the railing, and a single tear fell down her cheek. "I'm sorry Quinn," she said softly, her voice cracking. "I'm sorry Glee club." She closed her eyes tight. This was what was best for everyone. If her father had never loved her, who else could? She leaned over the side, lifted up one foot-
And jumped.