Who: Santana, Mr Schue What: He told them to call him, if they needed him. When: Thursday night? After dark. Where: San's treehouse, Lima County General Rating/Warnings: I'm gonna say R, for San's mouth and for San's propensity for the drink. Y'all know how she is.
It didn't matter to Santana how many people said they were on her side, how many people said they still loved her, how many people offered her a place to stay and a shoulder to cry on - they weren't her parents. Her parents had done a terrible thing to her, and she was still kind of numb and disbelieving about the whole situation.
Perhaps it was this disbelief that had her sneaking into her backyard after the sun had set that night. She still had her keys and everything - there was nothing actually keeping her from going inside except the wrath of her mother. She felt like a criminal as she skulked in the bushes, one hand grasping the bottle of Patron she'd conned some old guy into buying for her. Swaying slightly, she peered in the window, and found herself watching her mother playing with Nico on the rug in the living room. Her father wasn't there, but that was nothing new.
Tears filled her eyes as she took another swig and carefully backed away. Well, fuck them. She didn't need to stay in a place where she was so obviously hated, especially when there were so many places she could go that would welcome her with open arms. But first, she wanted to grab a few things out of the tree house.
Carefully, still clutching the bottle in her right hand, she climbed up, hauling herself through the hatch with no small sense of pride at her accomplishment. Ordinarily she wouldn't ever attempt the climb if she'd been drinking, but circumstances had changed somewhat. She grabbed a basket and started loading the drinks from the fridge into it, then rummaged in the trunk for other small bits and pieces she wanted to take with her back to Genny's house. Genny's house, she thought with a grimace. She loved Genny, loved her mothers and loved her house, but it wasn't home, and Santana didn't think it ever could be.
Carefully, she lowered the basket down on the rope until it reached the ground with a soft thud, then turned and began to climb down herself.
At least, that was the plan. Somehow, in between missing a rung with her right foot, and landing heavily on her left arm, Santana rather thought her plans might have done awry.
For a long while she just lay there, gulping from the only bottle she could reach to try and stave off the pain - not the Patron, that was just out of reach, she was drinking straight Johnny Walker now. The sky above her, or what she could see of it through the leaves, was full of stars that were twinkling as if to say they'd warned her not to drink and climb. She flipped them off with her good hand, and reached awkwardly in her left pocket, with her good hand, for her cell phone.
Who to call? Her parents were out, and she didn't want to overburden Gen's moms any more than she already had. She refused to call Brittany, and couldn't call Quinn, since she didn't want to give Quinn's mom more reasons to hate her. Michaela was out too, because by the time she could get here...
He'd said to call him if they needed him. She scrolled down, looked at the entry for long moments, then hit Send.