The Girl in Room 17
Part II

Rachel Berry beat me.

"This is outrageous. They simply can't keep us here!" She crossed her arms and turned to Brittany. "I did not go from dancing with Erik Bruhn to being held against my will in a dive like this." She sniffed. "This is only temporary you understand. Once my leg has healed I won't have to-" she gestured around the room, her arm spinning like a pinwheel. "-subject myself to such things."

I sighed and watched the two. Berry was small, pretty after a fashion. But the girl that towered over her drowned out any beauty she might possess. As the rant continued, Brittany nodded in all the right places. And some of the wrong ones.

I gnawed about half an inch off my upper lip and touched against the metal in my pocket. Thinking back to the week before.

"What's this?" She was sitting on my desk, her legs crossed and toes tucked behind her heel. Her fingers caressed my wrist.

"A pulsera," I answered, relishing the tingle as her nail came into contact with my skin. "A bracelet."

"A- pulsera?That's so pretty." She traced the heart that the gold framed. "Do you want to trade?"

I laughed, like fingers across ivory. "I don't give just anyone my corazon."

"But mine is much more expensive." She said bluntly, but not cruelly. "Tiffany's. I think."

"Hmm. Let me think on it." And I was. I was already planning. I was seeing her face looking happy and knowing that I had put that smile there. That smile like a breeze in the middle of a LA heat wave. The only relief I ever got.

"Ready to go, baby?" The cripple asked. He wasn't a bad guy, I suppose. But I still wanted to wheel him into the Hudson to look for fish.

"Santana was just teaching me some Spanish!" she said happily. Leaning over the desk she pulled me into a tight hug. "We should go shopping!"

Too soon it was over. Her embrace was gone. She was moving away.

I'd give anything to feel those arms again.

"Santana Lopez." He tried to focus those eyes on me. Small, beady, and close. As if they were in earnest conversation with each other.

"Jesse St. James." I took a step back, the scent clouding my senses. "Understudying for John Barrymore again, I take it?"

He unzipped his teeth and threw back his head. "You dish it out in spades, don't you, doll?"

"And I'm generous, too."

He leaned in and I leaned back. "You ever thought about movies? You could be the new Velez? I know Harry Cohn, you know."

"No one is touching my hairline." I watched over his swaying shoulder. Berry still had Brittany. "What do you think of all of this?" I said for something to be saying.

"The murder? Shame. She was a pretty gal. Not the type you'd marry of course, but charming on the arm." He leered. "Youcould be charming on the arm."

"Your arms couldn't afford me."

"The rumours are that you aren't exactly expensive." He tilted his head to Karofsky with a green grin. "So why turn your nose up, Ankle?"

I gave a quick, hard wink and stepped closer, braving the fumes. If someone lit a match we'd all go up. "Listen to me, St. James. You might think you're a someone, but that's all passed now. You're a low down punk with his eye on the sky and his face in the gutter-" I smiled, the kind comforting grin of a loving mother. "And I know my way around there. So just play nice, or I will step on your neck if you even think of talking to me again. Got me? Ankle?"

I heard a snort to my left and glanced over. Hummel.

"Sorry, I was just—"

"He's all yours." I stepped round him and saw Brittany was now free. She met my eyes and gave a shadow of a smile. I practically bounced in front of her, a giddy excitement in my chest. "This is some scene."

"Yeah," she stared down at the ground. "It's really sad."

I rearranged my expression into one of abject misery. "It really is. She was so young."

"It's a really horrible accident."

"Accident?" A gust of air escaped my nostrils. "It was hardly that."

She shrugged and played with a sliver of gold that hung from her head.

I took a deep breath. "Listen—I ran an errand earlier and—" I reached into my pocket. "Well, I—"

"Santana?" She cut me off. "Can I talk to you? Alone?"

Abrams. He'd done it. Conviction grabbed me by the throat and I had to choke out a breath.

And a dark part of me thought. Now she can bemine.

"Can Susan Peters spare you?" I looked over at Abrams who was staring up at the ceiling, his jaw slack. He didn't look the type, but I guess love can drive you to desperate things.

"Who?"

I shook my head and jerked my chin to the side, walking ahead of her to a quieter corner. "He took the side elevator, didn't he?" I said once we alone. Don't worry. His legs work in his favour-they won't be looking too closely-"

"It was me."

A fist sailed through my soul and floored me. "What?"

"I went to her room. She was around Artie. All the time! And I was jealous. It was wrong, but I was! And then she was saying all this stuff and it was so nasty, so I pushed her to make her stop but-"

"But what?"

"She fell." Brittany's eyes found the floor and my heart joined them. "She fell and didn't get up again." I clenched my hands into fists and felt my nails kiss the palm. Rough. Hard. Unrelenting. She came closer to me and my arms took their fill. They were happy. It was all they had ever wanted. But my mind couldn't enjoy it. Because they'd be coming for her soon. The same way I had came, and when they did they wouldn't be slowed down asking for directions. And they wouldn't be gentle. No amount of soft, velvet hair or butter-cream scent could change that. I let her go and my skin screamed at the loss of warmth.

"You don't tell." I said. I grabbed her by the shoulders, my fingers no doubt marking her skin through her clothes.

"But I have to. It's the right thing to do," her lip trembled. "It was me."

"Stop saying that!" I hissed. A flattie saw us and raised an eyebrow. I dropped the hands. "Stop it. No, you didn't."

"But-"

"No. I'm going to fix this." I rose a hand to my hair, dragging at the root. "I'll fix it."

"I don't understand." She shook her head gently. "Please."

I was broken. That simple pleasetore through me like barb wire through silk.

"You were in your room. Showering. The first you heard about Cohen-Chang was when you came to find Abrams. You were shocked."

"That isnt-"

"Damnit, Brittany!" She recoiled as if slapped and I wanted to burn away the moment. "Brittany." I took her by the elbows. "It was a mistake. You didn't mean to do it. An accident."

"Will the police understand?"

I shook my head. I didn't know. "Who will look after-" The name felt kicked from my throat. "-Artie if you go to prison? No, not prison. It would be the chair, Brittany."

"No!" Water filled her eyes, making them seem more like the ocean than ever before. "I don't want that!"

"Then lie. Say what I told you to say." My thumb traced a circle into her skin. "And no matter what happens. Don't change it."

"What do you mean?"

I smiled, I wanted to press my lips to her cheek and taste the salt. Feel that cold wet. I didn't dare. Thing like that would be remembered. And I didn't want anything leading back to her.

"Do you trust me?" She nodded, her eyes wide. "I promise you. I'll fix this."

"Santana, wait-"

I turned from her so fast I almost heard the snap of air.

I had to move.

I made my way out of the lobby and ducked through the door. Karofsky and Puck looked like they were getting into it. So engrossed in each other they didn't see me. I stalked to the side elevator, my heels clipping smartly against the marble imitation floor.

Deserted.

Slipping in, I keyed in the dead girl's floor. I watched the numbers climb and felt the moments crawl.

The doors pinged. I stepped out onto the floor my eyes searching for cops, photographers, and journalists. There was no one. God had granted me a favour and gave me an incompetent police force. If this had been one of the fancier hotels on the strip I never even would have made it this far.

I prayed I'd make it a little further.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped into the room. A white sheet was at the centre, stained red at its corner. Crossing quickly I knelt down and pulled back the sheet almost tenderly. I had never seen a dead body before. I could go a lifetime without seeing one again. I stared into her eyes that didn't see me. Eyes that stared into another world. I hoped they liked what they saw there.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I love her. Like you loved Abrams. Like she loves Abrams."

I bit at my lip and pushed back a tear. Crying had never helped before. It wouldn't help me, it wouldn't help Brittany and it sure as hell wasn't going to help Tina Cohen-Chang of Room 19.

"I have to do this," I whispered. I put my hand into my pocket and pulled out the pulsera. The one I had brought for Brittany. Except whereas mine was garnet, hers was the same topaz as her eyes. I pressed it to my lips and kissed it goodbye.

Picking up Cohen-Chang's lifeless hand and I pressed the bracelet into her palm. I closed her fingers and heard the clasp catch inside her fist. One to every day of the week.

I had lied to Puck. It wasn't cheap.

It was priceless.

I left the room, my head on the floor and my heart in the throat. No one noticed me. No one stopped me.

Returning to the lobby, I passed through the crowd, my knuckles grazing their bodies as I went. Life's rejects and losers all here in one place. Fighting to survive. I suppose I was one of them now. But it didn't feel like losing. Not even a little bit.

I took my place at my desk and looked up. Blue found brown again. I nodded and gave a smile. She gave a brave one back.

I guess she got my corazon, after all.

The End.