A/N: I do not own Glee, Santana or Sebastian.

This is it then. The end.

Can't believe we're here. It doesn't make me happy, it makes me quite sad actually. I've become very attached to this story but I'm sure I will become equally attached to the next one.

Whilst we're on that topic, I see no harm in plugging said story. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE, if you have liked what you've read, if you like my writing, if you like Sebtana, please take a look at 'The Show Must Go On'. Even if you hate it, just let me know so I can improve. Equally if you like it, read it with pleasure because in my head it's shaping up to be a good plot ;) whether it's well executed is your call.

Thank you so, so much for every read, every review and every alert. They make me smile so much and I can't even describe how thankful I am that you've chosen to read something I've written.

I'll let you get on with it and say goodbye, to you & 'In That Moment' - it's been fab.

NB: this chapter contains some uncomfortable themes.

xxxxxxx


The half time whistle blew and Santana returned from her spot to the centre of the field where Sebastian was gathering the team in a huddle, rubbing his hands together enthusiastically and invigoratingly.

"That was a nasty play guys," He was saying sourly, "Luckily, Santana dealt with it."

He glanced at her, grinning cheekily and she shrugged innocently. He pressed on.

"We can't let things like this happen again, channel all your competitive energy into beating them, through hard-core batting, alright?"

Although he was looking round the circle, Santana felt sure that particular instruction was meant directly for her. The group nodded; there were murmurs of 'alright'.

"Alright," Sebastian echoed, "Take five."

The huddle broke and he strolled over to Santana, "Thank you for fighting for me sweetheart."

She smiled unblushingly and said, "You know I always would."

"I know." He confirmed, beaming at her, his hand dancing up her arm.

"I'm going to go get a drink from inside." Santana told him, kissing the back of his hand resting on her shoulder and turned around to leave.

As she did so, he patted her bottom audaciously and sent her on her way. She looked over her shoulder, smiling at him sultrily. He winked back at her and watched as she strutted away to the make-shift cabins that held the bathrooms and a small kitchen.

She let herself in and went to get some water from the tap using an old mug on a shelf. She filled it and sipped it, watching as Sebastian flexed out on the field and practiced swinging a bat. She smiled almost subconsciously to herself.

Suddenly, a noise behind her made her start.

She twisted around cautiously and saw Blake making his way towards her.

"Oh, hi Blake," Santana greeted him, trying to keep her voice warm and free from the iciness she felt whenever he was near her.

"Santana," He replied quietly, running his eyes over her.

"Can I help you with something?" asked Santana, attempting an even tone.

"Actually, I think you can." Blake leered and he advanced towards her.

Santana did not even have time to process what was happen.

He trapped her between his warm body and the cold, metal sink, blocking her in with his palms gripping the surface either side of her tiny waist. He knocked the mug out of her hand onto the surface where it smashed, the sound reverberating around the small cabin. She could feel his hot, ragged breath escaping his mouth and settling on her skin making it prickle uncomfortably.

"What're you doing?" She asked nervously, her voice losing any calmness it had.

"You're quite a hot piece of ass Santana, did you know that?" Blake growled lasciviously, pressing himself to her.

She didn't reply, feeling sick in the pit of her stomach. She cringed as he stroked her cheek with his thick calloused finger.

"And the Sebastian I knew," He continued, drawling disgustingly. "Always liked to share."

He grinned, ogling her as if she were a piece of meat and sneering callously.

"I'm not really comfortable with that." Santana stated, trying to push him away, but he just gripped her more tightly, cupping her to him, his hands on her rear.

"Come on Santana," He crooned desperately, a certain whine in his voice. "No-one has to know. Not even Sebastian."

Blake pressed his mouth to hers and stuck his tongue aggressively inside. She pushed him away from her and cried,

"Get off me you little creep!"

But she could not escape; he had her firmly in his hold and was pressing himself to her again.

"¡Ayudeme! Help me!" She screamed, attempting to kick him and free herself. "Get off me! Somebody! Quick!"

He covered her mouth with his hand and pushed her, ramming her back into the metal sink. She was struggling to breathe, she couldn't get his hand away from her face and his other was coursing her body uncomfortably.

It reached up her McKinley High black t-shirt and rubbed against her stomach, creeping up towards her chest.

She writhed urgently in his grip as he kneaded her soft skin with his thick hands, desperate for the unpleasant pain to stop. His hand left her, leaving a cold, empty awfulness behind and it moved to his zip.

Santana flailed more wildly, attempting to push him away again, but he was stronger than her, compelling himself more persistently to her and beginning to restrict her airways as he continued to cover her mouth.

"Santana?"

She heard Sebastian's voice coming from the corridor outside and tried to call to him, but Blake's hot palm had supressed any hope she had of getting someone's attention.

"Santana?"

Sebastian called again and his echoing footsteps came closer.

Santana tried once more to push Blake away but he was fumbling more frenziedly with his trousers, his pupils dilating and darting frantically around the room.

Sebastian finally entered the room.

"San, are you-"

His words dropped as he registered the picture before him.

"You bastard." He muttered, advancing towards Blake and pulling him roughly away from Santana.

She breathed again, raggedly and doggedly, thankful for her freedom. She could still feel his hands on her body. She knelt to the floor and held her knees to her chest, exhaling deeply.

Sebastian punched Blake forcefully across the face.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" He roared, pummelling the man furiously.

"Get off me Sebastian!" Blake cried, "What are you doing?" He replied, curling his bleeding, swollen lip. "Come on, you always loved sharing in college." He drawled lustily, "We could reignite some old memories."

"I don't want any memories of you anymore." Sebastian cursed loudly and hit Blake again.

"Hit me one more time Sebastian and I'll tell them about Paris." Blake threatened, standing up and moving towards the bronze haired man menacingly.

"Go ahead." Sebastian offered, holding his hands out willingly.

"Does your pretty little girlfriend know?" sneered Blake "Maybe she'd like to hear about your night in a French jail cell."

"She already knows." Sebastian smirked back at him.

"So she's aware she's dating a man-whore?" scoffed Blake, laughing derisively.

"Honey," coughed Santana from her position on the floor, "I've known he was a man-whore since I was 17."

Sebastian chuckled and shrugged at Blake.

"It's true."

"I can still tell the courts." Blake warned him, pointing aggressively at him.

"Do what you want Blake," Sebastian disparaged him, rolling his eyes, "After what you just did to Santana, I want nothing more to do with you."

"So you're choosing her?" asked Blake, curling his lip at the Latina crouched on the floor, watching the scene playing before her.

"Damn right I am. Now get the hell off this field and out of my life." Sebastian instructed and he hit Blake once more for good measure.

Santana watched in awe as Blake cursed loudly and trailed sheepishly from the room. Once he was gone, Sebastian turned round to her.

This was the Sebastian she had known and the one she had always known, since that duel in high-school. The calm, cool, strong and sexy Sebastian - she had probably fallen in love with him that very day, when the last string on the cellos had been plucked and their eyes had locked.

He knelt down in front of her and moved a dark hair out of her eye.

"Are you okay?"

She nodded silently and swallowed.

He could see her eyes swimming with tears but he wouldn't let her cry. His Santana, feisty and gutsy, wouldn't want to cry at something like this.

"Thank you," Santana choked out eventually.

Sebastian stroked her cheek gently, took her face in his hands and kissed her softly, murmuring into her lips, "It's okay."

He sat down beside her, resting his back against the cabinets behind them.

She put her head on his shoulder and he wrapped his arm around her.

After sometime of peaceful silence, he whispered into her hair:

"I love you Santana."

She was not surprised. She knew he did – just the way she loved him; this encounter with Blake had just been a catalyst on his journey to expressing it. She knew it would have been hard for him to come up with the words otherwise. She herself had never been good with articulating that kind of emotion with vocabulary – not even with Brittany whom she always considered her first love.

She had never thought about the fact that she had probably loved someone else at the same time she had fallen in love with Britt; and that was the boy sat right beside her, after all these years.

"I love you too Sebastian."


FIN.