So I thought I would try another few chapter of this story and see how it goes, Brittana will meet so please bear with me I just need to get Santana's back story and stuff sorted first. It will all come to light soon enough if your sill confused with who did what.

Disclaimer: - don't own anything...

I hum softly along with the radio I set up on the desk in my new room, it was one of the first things I done when I had started unpacking everything in my new room. Music calms me, it always has and it's been the one constant thing I could turn to no matter what was happening in my life and it could reflect any mood that I was feeling. I used to love to sing as well and I was actually quite good, my mother used to say than I got that from my dad's side of the family since both my father and grandfather had really good voices and used to sing all the time, which is where I think I picked it up from. My abuelo was so proud of me when I joined the church choir and got a solo in the Christmas service in my first year, since solos were hard to come by and mostly given to the older more experienced choir members.

But now the one thing that I loved most has now become something I rarely do any more since it happened. Not only does it remind me of him but after what happened to my face it had been harder to do since my lips were burned and I can't open my mouth to much without pain. So hitting long powerful notes like I used to is nearly impossible.

I sigh and shake my head to stop the memories, memories than I want...no need to forget to move on. I look around at my new room and internally groan at the amount of boxes I still have left to unpack.

"Santana dinners ready" My mother shouts up the stairs. I huff as I finish up with my box taking as long as I possibly can. Ever since we arrived in Lima my mother has been upbeat and encouraging, which is not unusual but just strange. It's almost like she's trying to force all her positive energy on to me. I know it won't last, all this positive energy she's trying to surround herself in, it'll die out soon enough when she realises that they won't be able to fix me or get me looking normal which in reality is all she wants. She wants to go back to the start, back to where none of this happened, back to playing happy families or pretending we were a happy family.

After finishing my box I packed everything up and headed down stairs slowly. I wasn't in any sort of mood to be dealing with my mother fake perkiness.

"So how's your new room coming along?" my mother asked as we sat down and started eating...well I picked, I was never really hungry anymore. One of the many doctors that I had been to see had motioned it was probably more mental reasons than physical but then that was contradicted by another doctor. I had been to see so many doctors over a small space of time that I wasn't sure what was true anymore.

I shrug a response to her, not really in the mood to speak least of all to her, but she still sends me that annoying smile that means 'it'll get better' but I'm starting to think the smile is less for me and more for her.

"Well don't worry you'll settle in quickly I'm sure and then we can go and see the specialist and he'll make you better and then when you go to school you'll make lots of new friends" she smiled with a nod.

I felt my mouth drop open as I stared at her in disbelief, shaking my head I push away from the table quickly and head back up to my room slamming my door. I stood in the middle of my room shaking at my mother's words. She was seriously deluded if she thought everything would go back to normal but I know that's all she wants. She just wants everything back to the way it was- having the surgeon husband, the popular head cheerleader daughter, the big house, the money, the everything that she doesn't have now and the thing she can't accept is that everything's changed and it's all her fault.

Heading to the ensuite bathroom, I undressed deciding that a shower was the best way to hide and relax at the same time since my mother probably won't come near my bathroom if I'm showering, not that she's afraid to see her daughter naked, I mean she did give birth to me but it's the scars, the scars that have deformed my body and face. I know for a fact that she can't...won't look at them because then the reality of the situation hits her. I could have hundreds, thousands of operations but I'll still be left with the scars of what he did to me...of what she did to me and it's not only the guilt that will eat it at her but mostly the realisation that I will never be the popular head cheerleader daughter she once had.

Stepping in to the steaming shower I winced as the hot water touched the sensitive skin on my upper chest. Not only do I have to deal with the facial scarring but also on my body. I let the hot water rush over my tense shoulders and neck accepting the sting that comes with it when it covers my face hitting the most recent scarring tissue.

I spend as long as I can in the shower before I feel the water cool. Getting out I carefully towel dry myself being careful not to be too rough on my broken skin. Stepping out of the bathroom I looked in to my room and notices that something was off. It was to quite, someone had turned off my radio that I had left playing on my desk. I cautiously walked further in to my bedroom quickly making my way over to my dresser to get my pyjamas.

Pulling on my PJ's I survey my room to make sure that there was no one there, if there was I'm sure one look at my hideous face and body would get them running. I took another quick glance around to me sure that I was defiantly alone when something in the corner of my room caught my eye.

Again I felt my eyes widen and jaw slacken in disbelief for the second time tonight as I stood staring at my reflection in a huge ass mirror. The pain that stabs at my chest is almost enough to make my legs buckle and I quickly turn away from the mirror in repulsion fighting the wave of nausea that hits me.

I lean against my bed staring at the opposite wall trying to quell my emotions. Who the fuck put a mirror in my room? From the bow sitting on top of it I'm guessing that it's a present...probably from my mother. Anger finally beats out the nausea as I grit my teeth, shaking. Ever since it happened I've refused to look at myself in the mirror or any reflective surfaces and I made a rule to myself that no mirror were to ever enter my room, that way I'll never be able to see how truly monstrous I look.

Pulling the sheet off my bed I chuck it over the mirror hiding my reflection. My mother probably though she was doing me some sort of goodwill service or something or maybe she just forgot completely about the attack and my mangled face and body, only remembering that before the attack I could spend ages looking at myself in the mirror primping, plucking and polishing off my look. A look that I had to keep up as part of the role as head cheerleader. Back then I was the hottest bitch at my school and could get any guy that I wanted despite keeping a deep secret from everyone and nobody messed with me. But now, now all that was long gone and I was all alone.

Shaking myself from the memories I pull the closest box to me closer so I can start emptying it. Most of its contents were books and old cheerleading magazines that had motioned me or my squad in them along with some textbooks. Finally getting to the end of the box I pulled out the last item in there. Turning it over my heart stopped and my stomach dropped, there staring back at me was three sets of eyes. I sat and stared at my unharmed face, gently running my thumb over it. I remember this photo being taken; it was only last year right after my squad had won nationals. The face looking back at me definitely was me but was full of a self assured confidence. My parents looked happy to but I knew it was just an act; they were very good at playing the happily married couple. I turn the picture over unable to look at our perfect smiling faces. This picture was taken just before my dad found out about my mother's indiscretions.

A rage fills me slowly as the event of what happened after that fill my mind. Finally the rage gets too much for me to handle and I chuck the picture frame at the mirror in the corner of my room only feeling slightly satisfied when I hear the mirror crack. I bring my hands up to rub my eyes surprised to find wetness there. I gently try to wipe the tears away, careful not to irritate my skin too much.

I crawl in to the middle of my bed and curl up in to the tightest ball my body would allow and cry myself to sleep only to be plagued with a nightmare I'm all too familiar with.

(Nightmare)

I'm lying in my bed flat on my back when I feel someone approach me.

"It's disgusting...you're disgusting" a voice I know, a voice that I'm familiar with but can't place shouts from above me.

I try to flinch away from the harsh tone, not knowing what I've done wrong, but can't move. I struggle some more but some invisible force is holding me down not letting move, I'm trapped. A laugh from a person above me confirms my realisation.

"It's disgusting...You're disgusting ...she's disgusting...I've got to fix this...I've got to fix you" the voice says again as I struggle trying to break free from my invisible bonds.

I try to scream and shout for help but my voice is silent. I hear the person laugh again as he approaches me.

"Don't worry Santana...I'll fix you" the figure says as they loom over me and I can see their eyes, deep brown eyes that I know but there empty and emotionless not fill with the love I was used to seeing when they gazed at me.

I watch in horror as they pull out a glass fill to the brim with a clear liquid, the person leans over my bed so they are hovering over me and tips the glass slightly so the liquid fall from the glass before righting the glass level again. The few drops that fell from the glass land on my chest burning straight though to my skin burning me. I try to scream again as pain wrecks my body. The brown eyed figure smiles the rest of his face hidden by the darkness that surrounds us. Without warning the person flicks their wrist throwing the rest of the liquid over me.

The majority of it hits me in the face while the rest covers my upper body. I can feel my skin bubble as I scream from the pain but my screams remain silent. I try to move to, try to shake some of the liquid that's burning though my skin in to my muscles and bones, but the more I seem to move the tighter my bond become.

"It had to be done Santana...I had to fix you Santana...Santana...Santana"

"Santana!...wake up...it's a dream sweetie, it's just a dream" My mother's voice breaks through mu unconsciousness as she shakes me awake.

"What...where...is he?" I gasp as I sit up looking around the room for the familiar brown eyes but a quick scan of my room I find that the only person in my room who's not supposed to be there is my mother.

"Santana sweetie are you ok?" my mother asks as she hugs me tightly and I wince when touched the scars on chest.

I shrug her off and nodded and rub my hands over my face gently trying to dry the tears that I knew would be there. Feeling wetness there confirmed what I knew as I moved my hands away from my face. My mother moved off my bed so she could turn on my bedside light and she gasped as she stared down at my hands. I follow her line sight and feel myself gasp as well as I look down at my blood stained hands.

"Well Miss Lopez it's seems you had quite a night" Dr Berry, my specialist said with a kind smile on his face "I wasn't expecting to see you for another few days"

I look at the giant man sitting behind the desk, he had a kind, welcoming face and should've put me at ease but the nightmare from last night was still very fresh in my mind. Santana's mother had panicked when he saw her daughter's bloody face and called the Dr Berry first thing that morning once Santana had cleaned herself up.

"The reason you bled so much was probably because what little skin you have on the damaged side of your face is still quite raw from the attack and the following operations but once we get a skin graft done that should be sorted quite quickly. I would still like to see you at our arranged time on Friday if that's ok? That way we can discuss the best way to proceed" Dr Berry smiled.

"Thank you doctor...I just want my little girl back to normal" my mother smiled at him and patted my hand.

I caught Dr Berry smile falter slightly before he replaced it with a more forced smile and nodded at my mother.

"If its ok with you Mrs Lopez...could I speak to Santana privately" Dr Berry said to my mother not really giving her a chance to decline.

"Of course Doctor...Santana honey, I'll just be outside" My mother said as she got her stuff and left.

"Santana I see from your records that you refused counselling after the attack...can I ask why?" Dr Berry asked and I shrugged.

Dr Berry pursed his lips and nodded at like I had just given him a proper answer. "I know it's hard to talk sometimes because you don't want to re live it and I also know that sometimes if you don't talk about it, it can destroy you from the inside. I know a therapist, good friend of mine, she works here casually from time to time I would like you to go and see here...it'll be considered part of your treatment I'll bring her in on Friday so you can officially meet and set up some sessions"

I sat and glared at the large Man in front of me. Who the fuck did he think he was trying to fix my life without consent.

"So ill tell Susan to drop by on Friday and I will see you and your mother then" Dr Berry smiled and stood and held out his hand for me to shake but I ignored it and stalked out of his office to meet my mother in the reception area.

As if you didn't already know I fucking hate Lima already..

So there's chapter 2 please read and review and tell me what you thought I'll probably have Brittana meet in the next chapter at some point.

I now have twitter irnbru323- I'll be putting progress and updates on my stories on there so please follow me if you're interested