A.N.: Just had to write something for that episode.

Disclaimer: This is not a matter of who owns what.

"If there's one thing I've learned from Finn dying, it's that shame is a wasted emotion. I'm sure Finn had secrets too, but who cares now? Do you really think that one day on your deathbed you're really going to think 'oh good, no one knew I was kind'?" Santana turned her head. She hated it when Kurt was right.

So she read the speech she had originally prepared. She could feel the pride rolling off of Kurt in waves. It was overwhelming. She couldn't even handle one person knowing her true feelings. It was stupid of her to think she could say them in front of their band of losers.

Maybe Finn was right. Maybe you are a coward.

You only took your busted teen ass to New York because of Britt and look where that got you. You're just as stuck as before.

It took Finn cornering you on Thanksgiving for you to realize how much you really would've love to fuck Quinn's brains out on a regular basis. That's like the equivalent of a relationship for you!

He's the reason you even went along with her craziness at Mr. Schue's almost wedding. Guess you both had some liquid courage.

When someone who played such an important role in your life dies you made horribly ill-placed jokes and choked your way through a song.

"Can you leave? Please?" She sounded so broken. She didn't want to talk. Her parents and Quinn combined couldn't even help her through this. The one person that could didn't know it and never would because he was never coming back. She wanted to go up to Finn and apologize for everything while he hugged her in his freakishly large arms. She couldn't though, and Kurt understood because he gave her the next best thing. She let out a shuddering breath while hugging the jacket around her small frame.

Even though it now smelled of the man perfume that Kurt swears by, if she tried hard enough, Santana could still smell a scent that was just distinctly Finn.

She sat and thought for the longest of times. She just stared into space. It was therapeutic, doing nothing. Then she felt her left breast vibrating. When she dug her phone out of the depths of her cleavage, Santana squeezed her eyes shut at the name that flashed across her screen.

Incoming Call: Quinn Baby

"Hello?" Silence.

"Quinn? Babe, is that you? Are you there?" A quiet sob.

"How could you, San? Why didn't you tell me?!" Internal guilt.

"I..I-I didn't know how." Shame and anger.

"You didn't know how? What kind of bullshit is that, Santana?! I'm your girlfriend; we're supposed talk to each other!" This time Santana was angry.

"Are we, Q? Are we?! If we're supposed to talk how come it's still going to take you 5 seconds after I say this for you to realize that I'm hurting too. I knew him too Quinn. I didn't hate him, it was impossible to. I was jealous. Jealous that he had what I didn't have and had the courage to go out and get it. It's not a contest Quinn. You don't win anything if you show you cared the most. We just needed these few days to think about everybody as a whole and not just ourselves. You weren't ready for that, Q. That's why I didn't invite you. How can you tend to my heart or any of our friends' when you can't see over the hole in yours?" Silence.

"I love you Q. And I'm totally ready to grovel for this in a few days, but we needed to do this separately. Okay? I didn't mean anything by it. It's just we grieve differently and we already clash enough without all this added emotion." A sniffle and a heavy sigh.

"I'm sorry and I love you too. Tell your parents I said hi. Take care of yourself babe. I'll see you when you come back to me in a few days."

Santana hates talking to an emotional Quinn on the phone. It always takes a lot out of her. With that, she trudges to the nurses office where she promptly cries herself into a fitful sleep.

~NTK~

She could kill Puckerman. Like literally choke the life out of him.

But no.

We all grieve differently, just like you told me. This is just Puck's way of dealing.

Gosh her girlfriend is so annoying when she's right. Maybe she knows deep down that Puck didn't take the jacket. Then it hits her. Schue.

She has half a mind to go over to his undoubtedly ginger and hair gel infested house and take it back, but she doesn't know what good that'd be. Mr. Schue obviously misses him too. No use in seeing a grown man cry.

So she goes to the place she's been able to escape to all day, the auditorium. Old habits die hard though because there, in all her glory, is Rachel bent over what is probably Finn's picture crying.

I swear if there was a list of heartbreaking images...

Rachel turns when she hears footsteps.

"If you're here to mock me like I heard you did Finn, I don't want to hear it Santana." She scoffs because, really?

"Rachel. We've seriously been roommates for months and that's really what you have to say? I wouldn't do that to you. As for Finn, I didn't mean it. I just got scared, it was a reflex." Rachel nodded.

"Sorry, I guess I'm still not used to completely selfless Santana yet."

"Hey, me neither. I'm not going to ask you how you're holding up though. I'm sure you've heard enough of that. Just remember I'm here for you Rachel, whatever you need." Rachel looked at her then laughed.

"Santana Lopez, you are by far the most confusing human being I have ever met. Weren't you the one who had a breakdown half through your tribute song? Shouldn't I be asking you how you're doing?"

"Nope. You want to know why? Because it's not only about me. But thanks for noticing. I'm not used to people actually taking a closer look."

"Well, since I'm such a good friend, I've taken the liberty of noticing a few other things too."

"Really? This should be great."

"Oh hush. It'll make you feel better, I promise." Rachel pulled the red and beige letterman jacket out of her bag which seemed to be the object of everyone's affections lately.

"I may have gotten Mr. Schue to give up the jacket once I told him my plan." She jumped down off the stage and walked to a seat in the front row where she draped the jacket across the back.

"There. Now sing."

"What? Rachel, you've officially lost it."

"See, I knew you'd be pigheaded. Pretend it's Finn. I want you to sing the song as if he was sitting right there. Express everything you need to say to him through your song."

"What if I choke and cry again?"

"Keep going. The more emotion being expressed, the more you're saying to him." Santana looked incredibly apprehensive.

"If it makes you feel better, I did it back in New York with his army t-shirt and Noah did it with the old chair he used to sit in in the choir room." Santana sighed.

"Okay, I'll do it, but could you like, you know, not be here when I do it?" Rachel nodded and silently walked out.

"Hey, Hudson. Your girl is crazy. If it gets her off my back I'll do this though. Even with all the shit you put me through last year, and all the shit you put up with from me the other three years, I can say you're still a pretty stand-up guy. So forgive me. Kurt told me that Isabelle once told him, 'Sometimes its the not forgiving that holds us back'. I don't want to keep you from like, moving on or whatever. So, the least I can do is sing one song for you, but you better enjoy it Hudson." Santana exhaled a breath of relief she didn't even know she was holding.

A.N.: Should I do a second chapter where she actually sings with flashbacks in between or should I just leave it here? Until next time...

TGWL