We're Not in Kansas Anymore

by slackerD

SWK AU This is all Brittany's fault. But Santana can't be mad at her best friend about anything. Not even about finding herself in an alternate universe where Rachel hates her and is dating Quinn. But that doesn't mean she's staying.

Title: We're Not in Kansas Anymore
Author: slacker_d
Pairing/Characters: Rachel/Santana, Rachel/Quinn, Brittany, Mike, OMC, Puck, Dr. Lopez, Mrs. Lopez, Sue, Figgins, Karofsky
Rating: PG-13
Summary: AU This is all Brittany's fault. But Santana can't be mad at her best friend about anything. Not even about finding herself in an alternate universe where Rachel hates her and is dating Quinn. But that doesn't mean she's staying.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Word Count: ~13,800
Spoilers: Other stories in the series. But I also took bits and pieces of Seasons 2.
A/N: So this happened. An AU of Something Worth Keeping. Takes place between Some Days Love is Hell and Assume Crash Positions. Also, there are 2 endings, a happy one and not so happy one.

This is all Brittany's fault. Technically. But Santana can't be mad at her best friend about anything. Not even about finding herself in an alternate universe where Rachel hates her and is dating Quinn.

But that doesn't mean she's staying.

…

It started innocently enough. Brittany's favorite uncle, Marco, came for a visit. The man's independently wealthy, having sold his dot come business for tens of millions in the late 90s.

Brittany loves his visits because he always brings her something interesting.

This time was no exception.

…

"San, my uncle Marco's here," Brittany exclaims when Santana arrives at the Pierce residence Friday night.

"I see him, Britt," Santana replies as Brittany pushes her into a kitchen chair.

On the table is a huge trunk which Santana can't believe Brittany's mom would even allow on her table. Looking around, neither of Brittany's parents are in sight.

"They went out to dinner," Brittany explains. "You know how much dad hates Uncle Marco."

"I should be pissed at him, marrying my baby sister so young," Marco adds. "I've never understood why that man dislikes me so much."

"And yet he lets you stay in his house for weeks," Santana comments.

"Because it makes me happy," Brittany replies.

"Yeah, well, who can say no to you, Britt?"

"No one!"

Santana smiles.

"Look what Uncle Marco brought me," Brittany exclaims.

Santana looks at the table where Brittany is pointing. It's a small snow globe, maybe three or four inches high. Santana can see the fake snow swirling around the water. She picks it up and looks at the scene inside. "It kinda looks like Lima."

"I know. Awesome, right?"

"I guess."

"Actually what's rather amazing about it is that it can be whatever you want it to be," Marco volunteers.

"What does that mean?"

"It means it apparently adjusts to whoever has it at the moment."

"Well, I was expecting something like London or Paris," Santana says. "Why didn't it look like that?"

"It doesn't work like that," Marco explains.

"Okay."

"Who cares?" Brittany interjects. "Uncle Marco was going to tell me the story of running with the bulls."

"That's true," Marco agrees. "I was."

Brittany produces a case of beer out of seemingly nowhere and they each take a bottle. Sitting at the table, Santana and Brittany listen to Marco weave tales of his latest travels.

…

Feeling especially possessive, Santana is spending Sunday night at Rachel's.

"The usual Saturday just wasn't enough," Rachel teases. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you actually miss sleeping with me."

"Stop trying to be cute," Santana replies. "You know I do."

"You loveme. You want to be around me," Rachel continues.

"Yeah. Keep that up and I might change my mind about that."

"No you won't," Rachel says. "I am adorable and loveable."

"And modest."

"Come on." Rachel pulls Santana towards the bed and they collapse on it. "And no funny business. It's a school night."

"Does this mean no morning sex?"

"We'll do our best," Rachel replies.

"Good."

Rachel turns off the light and Santana wraps her arms around her.

"Night babe," Santana mumbles.

"Night, tiger."

…

Santana wakes up alone in her own bed, which is definitely notwhere she fell asleep. She tries to remember how she ended up there, but finally gives up and calls Rachel. She doesn't answer. Santana waits to leave a message when she notices that Rachel changed her greeting.

"Hey babe. It's San. I, uh, woke up at home and I don't remember how I got here. Thought maybe you could shed some light on the subject. But you're probably already way into your morning routine. So I guess I'll catch you at school. Love you."

…

Driving to school, Santana can't help but feel that something's wrong. Everything feels… different. She can't put her finger on it, but nothing in the town feels right. It's almost as if she doesn't belong there.

Shaking her head at her paranoia, she parks her car. It must be the fact that Rachel hasn't called her back. Waking up in a different bed than she remembers going to sleep in will do that to a person. Santana wonders if last night was just a pleasant dream.

Santana's on her way to her locker when she's pulled into an empty classroom. She's prepared to rip someone a new one when she sees it's Rachel. She smiles. Rachel scowls back.

"Hey babe," Santana says nervously.

"I know it's that time of year again and you're feeling nostalgic, but stop," Rachel snaps. "I've told you before, I hate you and the year we spent dating is my biggest regret."

"What?"

"Just because it's our "anniversary" doesn't mean you can just call me up and pretend like we're still together. We're not. I'm with Quinn now. And now only can she say, "I love you", she but she shows me every day by actually acknowledging me at school."

"Yeah, yeah, Saint Q. Wait. What?"

"Don't play dumb Santana," Rachel replies. "It's insulting to both of us."

"I… what do you want me to say then?"

"I don't want you to say anything," Rachel tells her. "I want you to leave me alone."

Santana is flabbergasted. "But why?"

"I told you. I hate you."

Santana can only stare at Rachel.

"And I told you to stop pretending to be confused," Rachel snaps. "I'm finding that even more infuriating than your pestering."

"I'll, uh, just go, then," Santana mumbles.

…

One thing that hasn't changed apparently is that the school is still afraid of her. Thankfully. Everyone gets out of her way as she stalks down the hall scowling. She can't figure out what the hell is going on.

She feels a tap on her shoulder. Spinning around, wondering who would dare to bother her in her current mood, Santana prepares to tear someone apart.

"Oh. Hey Chang."

"Lopez," he replies. "Normally, I don't hit girls, but I'm thinking of making an exception for you."

"What the hell, dude?"

"Rachel called me this morning, practically hysterical and all I could make out is that you called her. What the hell?"

"I could ask the same of you," Santana snaps. "What the fuck is your problem?"

"My problem is that you're harassing my best friend," Mike answers. "And the only thing that's stopping me from hurting you is that she doesn't believe in violence. But there are plenty of other things I can do to you. Or get this school to do. You might be feared and have this school cowering in terror, but thanks to Quinn, this school loves Rachel now."

"What?"

"Probably for the simple fact that she's helped chill out Quinn, but still, this school loves her," Mike continues. "So if I have to, I'll turn them against you."

"You don't have the balls," Santana hisses.

"Try me, Lopez," Mike snarls back. "You seem to forget I'll do anything to protect that girl." Mike raises his fist threateningly and stalks off.

"What the fuck is going on?" Santana asks out loud as she watches Mike weaves through the hall.

…

"What the hell, Lopez?"

Santana is smacked in the shoulder as she walks to third. "I could say the same for you, Fabray," she snaps back. "Don't do that again."

"I thought we had a deal. I should have known. You've been too quiet, too nice; it can only mean you're up to something. Well stop it. It's over a year. You're not getting her back. So stop messing with her and go back to ignoring her existence. It worked just fine for almost five months."

"Yeah, well things change," Santana mutters.

"Too bad. Unchange them."

"I will as soon as I figure out how."

"Figure it out fast, Lopez. Because you already know my girl comes before you when you're acting like this."

"I said I would, Fabray," Santana snaps.

…

"Hi San," Brittany greets Santana when she sits down to lunch.

"Hey Britt."

"Why the long face?"

"It's a long story."

"I like stories," Brittany says.

Santana looks around. Sitting at the Cheerios' table, no one's really paying attention to them. "I don't know what's going on."

"We're eating lunch."

"When I went to bed last night, everything was normal. Now it's all fucked up," Santana continues.

"It's been fucked up for a while, S," Brittany replies.

"But it hasn't been for me," Santana tells Brittany. "When I went to bed, things were pretty awesome."

"Weird. You know who you should talk to? Uncle Marco is still in town," Brittany says. "He knows things."

"Marco," Santana agrees. "Yeah. He might know. Maybe it's some weird voodoo he ran into when he was travelling the world."

"Yeah, he brings back the coolest things."

"He at your house?"

Brittany nods.

"I'll see you later, B," Santana says, jumping up.

…

Marco's rental car is still in the driveway when Santana pulls up. She bursts into the house, not bothering with formalities. Thinking about it on the drive over, the only conclusion she can up with has to do with Marco. His arrival is just too much of a coincidence.

She finds him at the kitchen table, sipping tea and writing in his journal.

"Ah, Santana, hello, you weren't who I was expecting," he greets.

"And who were you expecting?" Santana asks.

"No one specific," he answers. "Just not you."

"So you know what the hell is going on?"

"Not exactly," he replies. "But I felt something shift this morning and I knew something had changed. I certainly didn't think it was you. I may have underestimated your displeasure and deviousness."

"Huh?"

"Sit down and I'll explain."

Santana nods. She goes to the fridge and pulls out a beer before sitting down across from Marco.

He smiles as she opens the beer and takes a long draw.

"As you're probably aware, I visit a great deal of exotic places where reality and normal don't always seem to apply."

"Uh…"

"Life is more than what you see around you, Santana," he continues. "You're familiar with the concept of alternate universes, correct?"

Santana nods.

"Well, it's more than just a concept. It's true. And in my latest travels I've come across ways to jump between."

"Jump between universes?"

"Exactly," Marco confirms. "And it's such an intriguing theory, that I was, well am, determined to explore it. So while I was in this remote village in India, I found this shop that had items that would aid in that research. I bought several items there. However, I think everything in that shop had mystic qualities; specifically love potions and time travel. Which is quite unfortunate, because I purchased Brittany's gift there."

"The snow globe?

"I did there too? Oh good."

"What?" Santana asks.

"Basically I think you've changed universes. I think the Santana from this universe used the snow globe to escape to yours because she was unhappy."

"What? How?"

Marco shrugs. "I have no idea. But she spent the night here last night and I know the globe was up in Brittany's room. It's possible it wasn't even on purpose. Who knows how these things work? Maybe she was doing the clichéd action of staring at it and making a wish."

"But then why me? You said there are a bunch of alternative universes. What makes mine so special?" Santana questions.

"Well, not everyone universe would have a snow globe, first of all," Marco answers. "But most likely it fit the criteria that she needed from her wish. If you can figure out what here would make her miserable, perhaps you can figure out what your universe contains that would make her happy."

"Who cares about that?" Santana asks. "How do I get back?"

"I'm working at it."

Santana jumps up. "You're working on it?"

Marco sighs. "Sit down. If you can figure out what makes your universe the one this universe's Santana needed, then maybe we can figure out what she wished. Since you obviously didn't wish anything, hopefully we can send you back."

"But what's to stop her from trying it again."

"Me." Marco's grin is always feral. Santana finds herself a bit nervous.

"Fair enough." Santana looks at her watch. "Britt will be done with school in like an hour. She and I will figure out the differences between universes."

"Very well. I'll keep researching."

"Yeah. Yeah. I'll be up in Britt's room."

"Santana," Marco calls out. "I really am sorry about all this."

"Let's just fix it, okay?"

Marco nods.

…

"So Uncle Marco says you're not my S," Brittany announces as she enters her bedroom.

"And you're fine with that?" Santana asks. "You find it totally believable that I'm from an alternative universe? An alternate universe where I'm dating Rachel Berry?"

Brittany shrugs. "Why wouldn't I? You're my best friend. You wouldn't lie to me."

"Maybe this is the first time."

Brittany looks Santana in the eye for a moment. "You're not lying."

"All right. Can you please explain to me why Rachel hates me so much? And how long has she been dating Quinn?"

"Quinn and Rachel have been dating since sophomore year," Brittany says. "And Rachel hates you because when you guys were secretly dating freshman year, you were… exceedingly cruel. She says. Though Rachel admits she had some vicious moments as well."

"What does that mean?"

Brittany shrugs again. "I don't know. You never told me. She's never told anyone. Not me. Not Quinn. Not Mike. Nobody knows what went on between the two of you."

"Chang?"

"They're best friends. He stood up for her against the football players. She's off limits. But she never was to the Cheerios. Or the hockey players."

"I was sort of hoping this was a universe that Rachel didn't get slushied in," Santana says.

"That's so sweet, S," Brittany smiles. "Poor Rachel. I hope there's some universes where she never gets slushied."

Santana smiles. "What about glee club?"

"What about it?"

"Who's in it?"

"Uh, well, Rachel of course. Me, you and Quinn. Mike. Puck. Tina. Artie. Mercedes. Finn. This new kid, Sam. And Lauren."

"No Hummel?"

"No Kurt transferred to Dalton when Karofsky's bullying got to be too much."

"Whoa. What?"

"Yeah. Karofsky totally has it out for Kurt this year. It was getting really bad and no one was doing anything. Coach Sylvester tried, but she couldn't do it forever. So Kurt transferred."

"Damn. New kid?"

"Yeah. Sam Evans. He can sing."

"That's good for glee."

"Did Rachel ever date Fincompetence?"

Brittany nods. "Well. Sort of. She was going after him sophomore year. But when he broke up with him again and then you took his V-card, Rachel kind of fell into Quinn's arms. I guess she's had a crush on Rachel forever."

"Of course she did," Santana sighs. "Are Q and I still friends?"

"Yeah," Brittany nods. "We all just never all hang out together. It'll be me, you and Quinn. Or me, Quinn and Rach. Or you know, everyone in glee. But you've been ordered to stay away from Rachel."

"And I listened?"

"Well not at first," Brittany admits. "You were calling and sexting her all the time. Quinn finally asked Coach Sylvester to step in. And then you stopped. But you've still tried plenty of times since. You were obsessed. These past months are the longest you've left Rachel alone. We all thought you were moving on, finally."

"Oh."

"What's your universe like?" Brittany asks.

"Well, we're best friends," Santana starts.

"Of course we are, silly," Brittany interrupts.

"Me and Rachel have been dating for like a year," Santana continues. "Puck calls her bro all the time. Quinn has a crush on her. Mr. Schue is a douche. Puck and Q had a little girl together that they gave up for adoption and never talk about—"

"Hey, they did here too."

"Figures," Santana mutters. "Did she lie and tell Hudson it was his at first?"

"Yep."

"Did Rachel's bio mom reject Rachel and adopt Fabray's kid?"

Brittany nods. "It was really weird and bad. Cause Quinn and Rachel had just started dating and Quinn didn't know how to tell her. I didn't think they'd make it."

Santana fights back a growl. "What about my family?"

"There's your mom and dad," Brittany answers.

"And Felix?"

"Your twin?"

"What?"

Brittany is doing her best not to laugh. "Kidding. He's three years older than you."

Santana lets out a sigh of relief. "What about her and Chang?" Santana asks. "How did that happen?"

"According to Rachy, it was the first time he twirled her around the dance floor when they learned the waltz together when they were ten. I guess Rachel had a crush on him until her focus became Finn."

"So they never dated?" Santana clarifies.

"No. Mike's dating Tina, anyhow," Brittany tells her.

"Jeez. Anything else I should know?"

"I'm dating Artie," Brittany replies.

"What?"

Brittany nods. "He's really nice."

Santana shakes her head. "I don't get this place."

Brittany shrugs. "We do all right."

"Maybe, but…" Santana trails off.

"What?" Brittany asks.

"She's with myRachel," Santana says.

"Oh."

"And what if shedoes to my Rachel what she did to this one?"

"Uh…"

"Oh. My. God. And when I get back, myRachel will hate me."

"Um…

"I have to figure out how to get back," Santana exclaims. "Every minute she's with my Rachel, Rachel is in trouble."

"Trouble seems a bit harsh."

Santana doesn't hear her; she's already running out of the room and down the stairs. She finds Marco on the couch ignoring some talk show on the TV.

"Have you figured anything out yet?" she asks him.

"It's only been a couple hours. Things like this take time to figure out," he answers.

"You're playing Angry Birds on your iPhone," Santana exclaims.

"I'm waiting."

"For what?"

"A couple emails and for someone to call me back," Marco replies.

"Why do you even have an iPhone? I thought you were against technology, Mr. Mystic."

"I don't remember saying anything of the sort," Marco tells her.

"Oh. Well, maybe it was the other you."

"Maybe."

…

Santana makes it home in time for dinner. At least, assuming her parents still have a scheduled dinner time.

Finding her mother in the kitchen, cutting up chicken, Santana assumes dinner is on as usual. She sits at the table and tries to figure what's different. She didn't really look around earlier in her mad scramble to get out of the house.

"So you've decided to grace up with your presence," Mrs. Lopez comments.

"Um, yeah," Santana manages. Her mother is looking at her like she's a bug under a microscope, not her only daughter. "Smells good."

"No trouble to cause? Mayhem to create?"

"Uh, no."

"You need money?" Mrs. Lopez asks.

"Can't I just watch my mother cook dinner?" Santana asks.

"You? No."

"Um… okay. Well, I guess I'll just go up to my room, then," Santana says standing.

Her mother doesn't reply as she exits the kitchen

…

Her mother's reaction to her is making her wonder what kind of person she could have been if circumstances were different. She knows she could have gone a dozen different way, but she's not liking this particular path.

Not knowing what else to do, she starts exploring her room for signs, specifically for signs of how she was able to switch universes. She's still having a tough time wrapping her brain around that.

Nothing seems too different. She sees a lot of the same things she has in her room; she's willing to bet they were used differently or from different sources. However, the one thing that is missing is any trace of Rachel. Santana assumes there were no little tokens of affection or pictures or anything like that from Rachel. Not if they were dating in secret.

Finally under her bed, she find a broken snow globe, a plastic cup, a paint stir stick and a crumpled piece of paper. The cup and paint stick smell disgusting, she's surprised she didn't notice it earlier. The snow globe looks sad and broken. She uncrumples the paper.

My will be done
My needs be met
I ask of thee
Thou promise kept
For when the moon rises
And dawn has begun
My needs be met
My will be done

These have to be clues. Santana wonders if she should bug Marco again or not. More information would speed up the info gathering process.

She pulls everything out from under the bed and takes pictures of each item. She then sends them to Marco's iPhone. After seeing his dependence on it, Santana was sure to get his number, just in case.

A few moments later, she gets a text.

Could help a lot. Thanks. M

She was hoping for a little more than that, but it's something at least.

She returns to her exploring.

…

An hour later, there's a knock on her door. It opens before she can respond.

"I hear you were harassing your mother, earlier," Dr. Lopez says, standing in the doorway.

"I was not."

"What do you call baiting her while she makes dinner?"

"I was trying to have a conversation with her," Santana protests.

Dr. Lopez sighs. "All right. What did you do?" he asks.

"Nothing."

Dr. Lopez eyes her for a moment. "You know it'll just be worse if I find out about it later."

"I know." And she does. The same goes for her dad in herreality.

He eyes her again. "So there's nothing you want to tell me?" he asks finally.

"Nope."

He shakes his head. "Fine. Do you want dinner or are you fasting still?"

"Uh…"

"If you're going to sit silently and be surly, don't bother coming down."

"I'll just stay up here, then."

Dr. Lopez nods once and closes the door.

Santana returns to her exploring again.

…

Glee Tuesday might be the most uncomfortable that Santana's ever been.

She's still trying to get used to how things are in this universe. The biggest being how people treat her. It seems that the easy comradely she enjoys in glee is mostly due to her relationship with Rachel.

"Or your dating Rachel makes you seem more approachable," Brittany says.

Santana considers that fact for a moment. "You're probably right."

Still, Santana has a hard time keeping her eyes off Rachel. Though Santana knows this Rachel hates her, knowing they once had a connection is enough to give her hope; even if she doesn't plan on staying. It's crazy how she feels this needto have Rachel. Santana supposes it's how the other Santana feels as well. She tries to focus on figuring out the differences in the others. She's moderately successful.

"Cheer up, San," Brittany replies. "Things have a way of working out."

Santana gives Brittany a doubtful look. "You mean like they have for the Santana in this universe?"

"Well, that's not really the best example," Brittany says. "Besides, she did that to herself."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, the whole Rachel things is way messed up," Brittany replies. "I'm not surprised she jumped universes. Just that it's possible."

"Me too."

They're sitting the back row and thankfully, that seems to be normal. It's odd watching this slightly different incarnation of glee. Not having Hummel to be buddy, buddy with Mercedes is big. But the new kid and the addition of Lauren, who is apparently dating Puck, is just downright strange to her.

"They're not so bad," Brittany whispers.

"I'm sure they're fine or whatever," Santana whispers back. "It's just… different."

"Yep."

…

Tuesday night, on a whim, Santana tries logging into her email account. The password works. Go figure.

There's just the usual junk, but a folder marked RB catches her eye. She opens it. There are a lot of emails, but very few have subject lines, so she clicks one.

S,

You are an insufferable, horrendous human being. If you ever lay a hand on me again, there will be severe consequences.

R

Whoa. She hit Rachel? No wonder Rachel wants nothing to do with her. The next email is the other Santana's response, so Santana clicks it.

Berry,

You hit me first, so fairs fairs. Besides, you probably liked it slut.

S

Well that changes things slightly; if the other Santana can be believed. Santana clicks on the next email.

S

You started it. And I most certainly did not enjoy it. Violence in bed doesn't appeal to me. And I don't appreciate being called slut when not engaged in sexual activities.

R

Santana clicks the next email.

R

Fine. Booty call. My parents are gone until late.

S

And then the next email.

S

I find your courtship methods appalling.

R

And then another email.

R

You care a lot less when you're riding my face.

S

Santana has to know how this ridiculousness ended.

S

You're lucky you're good in bed. Ten minutes. But I meant what I said before about the hitting.

R

Santana clicks the next email.

R

I repeat. You hit me first.

S

Santana clicks the next email, but it seems to be a whole other conversation and she's not in the mood to read them all. Still, it seems like she has a bit more insight into her double's history with Rachel. Unfortunately it's not that reassuring.

…

There's something up with Lopez. Sue's noticed some rather out of character behavior recently. It's almost as if she's gotten a personality change.

Sue's not sure she likes it.

Sue enjoys Lopez's cutthroat, vindictive, manipulativeness. She especially enjoyed watching the whole Lopez/Berry/Fabray drama play out. Who knew Berry would be such a lesbian magnet.

Still Sue's going to keep an eye on things. There's something odd going on and that's not allowed without Sue's permission.

…

The way the other students treat her, is different in this universe. And not in a good way. She always seems like a terror. Someone far worse and much scarier than Quinn ever was.

Santana wonders if it was like this pre Rachel or if the apparent obsession with Rachel turned her into this cruel person.

Because Santana can admit that her reactions in relation to Rachel aren't always the best. There's just something about the girl that gets Santana. Does that mean it's true love? Or doomed to an explosive ending?

This whole universe jumping thing is making Santana over analyze everything. She doesn't like it.

Part Two

Wednesday after an exhausting Cheerios' practice, Santana drives Brittany home, so she can check in with Marco.

"I bet he found something," Brittany says as they pull into the driveway.

"Something useful?"

"Uh huh. Uncle Marco's good like that."

"I'll believe it when I see it," Santana mutters, following Brittany inside.

"I think I've found something," Marco tells Santana as she and Brittany enter the kitchen.

"Yeah?"

"There's an ancient ritual that supposedly helps a person jump worlds, but no one can prove that it works. A lot of people claim it does, but they have no proof."

"Okay."

"But an old shaman I know says there's an updated version of the spell. He emailed it to me. It fits with some of the things you've found. He's checking to see if there's a counter ritual that could get you back."

"How long will that take?" Santana asks.

"Hopefully not too long," Marco replies. "Also pray that it doesn't require another snow globe."

"Yeah, since it's pretty much destroyed," Santana agrees. "How did she even get it? Do you visit more in this universe?"

"I gave it to her," Brittany volunteers.

"Why?"

Brittany shrugs. "She asked."

"Figures," Santana mutters.

"What does the sending spell need?" Brittany asks.

"Uh…" Marco pulls out his phone and scrolls and flicks about until he finds the email. "You need to mix the liquid from the snow globe, a tablespoon of nutmeg, four ounces of lamb blood, three pinches of ground up horse hoof, and several drops of iodine."

"Seriously?"

Marco nods. "It is rather, uh, ridiculous. Of course there's no way to really verify-"

"I can fucking verify that it works," Santana interrupts.

"Actually, I was going to say no one has verified why this mixture supposedly works just as well as the ancient version that uses ground up walrus tusk and interestingly enough, the nutmeg, among other things is equivalent."

"You have to believe," Brittany says.

"Huh?"

"I said you have to believe," Brittany repeats. "That's why it works. The person believesthat it'll work. So it does."

"That's actually an interesting theory, Brittany," Marco replies. "The concept that magic is all in the mind, that our belief in something is what causes it to exist; it's fascinating. I think your theory has merit."

"Yay," Brittany claps.

"Either way, assuming it works. You write a spell or chant. Mix the ingredient, say your spell, drink it and then make your wish. But I guess it doesn't work until you go to sleep."

"Like Santa Claus," Brittany offers.

Santana shakes her head.

Marco smiles indulgently. "Yes, kind of like Santa Claus."

"Okay, I have to be dreaming," Santana says. "Someone pinch me."

Brittany reaches out and slaps Santana, hard.

"Ow! What the hell, Britt?"

"I don't like pinching people," Brittany replies. "It seems mean."

Santana can only gape at Brittany.

"Either way," Marco continues. "I'm still waiting for the shaman to get back to me. As well as a voodoo priestess who may know another way to jump universes."

"Sounds promising."

"Eh, well, it is and it isn't," Marco replies. "It's rather unprecedented."

"But still possible?" Santana asks.

"Anything is possible, Santana," Marco tells her. "There are some amazing things out there."

"I hope you're right," Santana replies. "I can't stay here while she's with myRachel."

"Awww," Brittany coos.

…

Santana is sitting at the corner of the Cheerios' table at lunch. She doesn't feel like talking to anyone and luckily, no one approaches. She supposes the scowl she's wearing helps quite a bit too.

She hasn't seen Britt yet, but it's possible she's hanging out with Artie. Santana has a vague memory of the blonde mentioning something like that.

Quinn is sitting further down, amidst their fellow Cheerios and is constantly shooting Santana dirty looks. She wonders what the hell she did now.

When her phone buzzes, Santana looks down at it in surprise.

We need to talk. You know where.

It's from Rachel. Santana's pretty sure it's not a booty call. Standing, she can only hope that things are similar enough that she can correctly guess where exactly Rachel means.

…

Santana slowly approaches the second floor janitor's closet with apprehension. She's a bit worried that Quinnactually set the text and is going to jump her for messing with her girl. Especially since Quinn basically said as much yesterday.

When she reaches the door, she stops and listens hard. There is only silence and so with nonchalance she's not feeling, she opens the door and steps inside.

It's not dark when the door slams shut. It seems someone has a flashlight. Santana knows because the light is being directed into her eyes. She's blinded for a moment before the light pulls back and is set upright on a nearby shelf.

Once the spots disappear from her vision, Santana is mostly relived to see Rachel, with her arms crossed, standing in front of her.

"Hey babe," Santana tries weakly.

"I told you not to call me that."

Santana shrugs. "Old habits die hard."

"That excuse is getting old," Rachel retorts.

"Sorry. I'll come up with a better one for next time."

"You need to leave me alone," Rachel says.

"Hey, I was just minding my own business, eating lunch," Santana replies. "Youtexted me."

"So I could tell you to leave me alone," Rachel tells her.

"Well, meeting in the janitor's closet, our spot, isn't sending a clear message," Santana retorts.

"I didn't want anyone to see us-"

"Oooh, scandal."

"And tell Quinn," Rachel continues. "I worry what she may do to you."

"I can take care of myself."

Rachel gives her a sad look. "Yes, well, I'm well aware."

"And I'm not bothering you, so I'm not sure why we're meeting."

"You're staring," Rachel says.

"Now? We're talking. Where would you like me to look?"

"Stop being obtuse," Rachel replies. "I mean in general. All this week, I can feel your eyes on me. It's been so long since you've been so… obsessed, that I'd gotten use to notbeing stared at. Experiencing it again is quite disconcerting."

Santana shrugs. "I don't know what to tell you."

"Are you going to stop?"

"Can't say," Santana answers, with feigned indifference. "But it's unlikely."

Rachel lets out a bitter chuckle. "Same old Santana."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It meansthat you're still the same bitch that drove me away," Rachel replies.

"That is so not true," Santana tells her. "You have no idea how wrong you are, right now."

"All right, then," Rachel says. "Enlighten me."

"It's complicated."

"I bet," Rachel snorts. "Always full of excuses, never explanations."

"I don't know what you want from me, Rach," Santana replies.

"Nothing," Rachel says. "I want nothing from you. I simply wish to be left alone."

"Don't you think ignoring me would be a better strategy?" Santana asks. "I mean, by confronting me, you're letting me know that my method may have some merit."

Rachel stares at Santana.

"After all, we're alone, in a janitor's closet while your girlfriend eats lunch. One could argue that myobjective has been achieved," Santana continues. "I would have thought that indifference would have been your first choice. It seems the most logical."

"Who are you?"

"I'm not who you think I am," Santana answers. "But hopefully that'll change soon."

Rachel is still staring at Santana.

"I really wish you would say something," Santana continues. "I'm finding this silence rather disconcerting."

"I'm finding yourather disconcerting right now, actually," Rachel manages.

"Well, I apologize," Santana replies. "That wasn't my intent."

"You're playing me," Rachel accuses.

"What?"

"This one-eighty you've apparently achieved," Rachel continues. "You've concocted some sort of Santana like plan to once again undermine my relationship with Quinn and this is the first step."

"It's not."

"It is," Rachel insists. "And I refused to fall prey to it."

"Rachel," Santana says, reaching for Rachel.

"Don'ttouch me," Rachel replies, slapping Santana's hand away.

"I-"

"No," Rachel says. "You are still the same evil, conniving bitch that I wasted a year of my life being intertwined with. And I'm not going back to that miserable existence. Get this through your head Santana Lopez. We are history. Over. Done with. There is nothingyou can do to change that. Get it through your thick skull. And if you don't back off, I'm going to sic Quinn on you. And unlike the last times, I won't ask her to spare you."

"Like I'm scared of Quinn Fabray," Santana scoffs. She can't help it. She know this isn't her world, but the resentment of Quinn getting everything and Santana getting nothing is quickly resurfacing.

"You should be," Rachel retorts. "We both know what she's capable of. And what you aren't."

Santana growls.

"Good bye Santana," Rachel says. She snatches her flashlight from the shelf and quickly walks out, pushing by Santana as she does.

The door slams shut and Santana is left standing in the dark.

…

Still smarting over her confrontation with Rachel, Santana stalks down the halls, daring anyone to mess with her. Most people are smart enough to stay clear of her. It amuses Santana that some of the underclassmen actually jump out of her way, the look of fear in their eyes very real. It makes her wonder what kind of person she really is in this universe.

But then there's suddenly someone blocking her way. She looks up. Karofsky. She should have known he wouldn't be smart enough to stay out of her way.

"What?" she growls.

"We need to talk," he replies.

"No. We don't."

"We do," Karofsky insists.

"You really don't want to mess with me right now," Santana warns. "I'm not in the mood."

"Well too bad, Lopez," Karofsky replies. "This has been coming a while."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Karfosky confirms. "I've been watching you lately-"

"Creepy."

"And you haven't been acting like yourself."

"Like you even know," Santana retorts.

"I know plenty, Lopez," Karofsky sneers. "And while I've been willing to ignore your insane obsession with RuPaul, I can't ignore the complete lack of bitchery you've been walking around with lately."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Where did the bitch go?" Karofsky asks. "Fabray may have laid down her law, but that hasn't stopped you from your own reign of terror."

Santana doesn't like where this is going. "So?"

"So, what the fuck happened?"

"Nothing," Santana grinds out. "Outta my way, Karofsky."

"No way, Lopez," he replies. "If you start being nice, I'mgonna have to start being nice and there's no way in hell that's happening. So you need to bring back to bitch."

"I said, get the fuck out of my way, you idiot," Santana snaps. "I'll do whatever the fuck I want. If I want to take a day off, I will."

"It's been way more than a day, Lopez," Karofsky points out.

"I'm not going to say it again, Karofsky," Santana says. "Move!"

"No."

Santana smiles, though there is no joy in her eyes. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

…

Because the confrontation began just after the lunch bell ring, the halls are filled with students. When the confrontation becomes physical, they back away to give them enough room, but still surround the pair; no one wants to miss any of the action.

When teachers are finally able to push pass the mass of students they find a badly beaten Santana standing over a severely beaten Karofsky curled up on the ground. When they see her foot go out to kick him in the face, they quickly intervene and restrain Santana. She struggles in their grasp.

"All right, everyone break it up," Figgins voice cuts through the crowd. "Get to class now!"

Reluctantly, everyone slowly breaks apart and heads to class.

"You two," Figgins says to the teachers still holding Santana back. "Take Karofsky to the nurse. Lopez. My office."

Wiping some blood from her lip, Santana nods and mockingly holds her hand out, gesturing Figgins to go first.

He shakes his head at her, but does so.

In Figgins' office, Santana slumps into the chair, trying to ignore the pain the action causing. She's going for indifference. It's her only defense at the moment.

Figgins sits in his and eyes her, but he doesn't speak. He's actually waiting for Sue to burst in and demand immunity for one of her favored Cheerios.

"Just get it over with," Santana mutters. "I have things I could be doing."

"Fighting is an automatic suspension," Figgins begins.

"Great."

"You have nothing to say in your defense?" Figgins is surprised.

"How could I possible disprove I was fighting?" Santana asks.

"If you were perhaps defending yourself?" Figgins suggests.

"Are you gonna suspend Karofsky too?"

"I am," Figgins nods.

"How long?"

"Two days," Figgins answers.

"And me?"

"Three days."

"Whatever."

Figgins waits for more, but after a minute, it seems like Santana isn't going to say anymore.

"Fine then. Three days. Do not come back in until Wednesday. Go home now. And I'll be calling your parents."

"Course you will," Santana replies. "I'll go, but I'm stopping by the nurse's office first."

"Ms. Lopez, going after Karofsky wouldn't-"

"I'm injured too, if you hadn't noticed," Santana snaps.

"Fine," Figgins sighed. "But if anything else happens between the two of you, the blame will lie solely with you because he seems far more injured than you."

"Thanks." Santana stands. "Anything else?"

"No. You're dismissed."

Santana nods and exits. "Nice to know some things are the same no matter where I am," she mutters.

…

In glee, everyone is talking about the Santana/Karofsky fight. No one really saw it, though Tina, Mike and Lauren were in the crowd surrounding the two.

"Too bad you weren't there, Hudson," Puck says. "You could have put Tina on your shoulders so she could have seen."

"As if I'd ever do that," Tina scoffs.

Mike elbows Puck.

"Karofsky looked pretty bad," Sam says. "I was walking by the nurse's office and it wasn't pretty."

"Karofsky's always been pathetic like that," Quinn offers.

"Yeah, but did he deserve that?" Sam asks.

"Depends on who you ask," Mike says.

"Yeah," Finn adds. "Kurt might think so."

"Still…"

"Well what the hell set her off?" Sam asks.

"Karofsky being himself isn't enough?" Quinn questions.

"Besides, Santana's usually in high bitch mode," Mercedes adds. "The last couple days of quiet were probably just a build up."

"Yeah, but something had to set her off," Finn says.

Rachel looks at her hands and stays quiet.

Mr. Schue chooses this moment to enter. "I know we all want to talk about today's, uh, incident, but I think it's better to just jump right into practice."

"Did Santana get suspended?" Puck asks.

"She did," Mr. Schue nods. "So let's just put it behind us and do the best we can."

Reluctantly, everyone stands and positions themselves for their first song.

…

Santana is stretched out on her bed when her parents burst in. She's in a bit of pain; Karofsky got in some good hits, though she'd never admit it out loud.

"Santana," Dr. Lopez says.

"I'm here."

"We need to talk."

"So talk," Santana replies. "I'm listening."

"Then sit up and look us in the eye," Mrs. Lopez says.

Reluctantly, Santana does. It takes a moment, but with a busted lip, black eye and bruised jaw, she looks them both in the eye.

Mrs. Lopez gasps.

"You look like hell," Dr. Lopez says.

"Is that your medical opinion?" Santana asks.

"You have nothing else to say?" Mrs. Lopez asks.

Santana shakes her head. And then winces.

"I thought we were past these violent tendencies," Dr. Lopez says.

"Apparently not," Santana replies.

"You're grounded," Dr. Lopez says.

"Obviously," Santana comments, wincing when the sneer she's trying for hurts her lip.

"Your flippancy isn't appreciated," Mrs. Lopez replies.

"I didn't assume it would be," Santana tells her.

"You have nothing to say about being suspended for three days?" Mrs. Lopez continues.

"Nope."

Dr. and Mrs. Lopez look at each other and Santana can tell they're having one of their silent conversations.

"You're grounded for three weeks," Dr. Lopez says. "One for each day you were suspended."

"Goody."

"Watch the attitude young lady," Mrs. Lopez says. "You're on thin ice with us."

"Oh?"

"This is your last chance, Santana," Dr. Lopez says. "Screw up again and we're going to have to take more serious actions."

"What does that mean?" Santana asks.

"Maybe you need to transfer," Dr. Lopez answers. "Maybe you'd be better off at a school with peers more like you."

"What does that mean?" Santana repeats.

"Mess up one more time and you're going to Jane Adams Academy."

"What?" Santana jumps off her bed and tries to ignore the pain it causes. "That's bullshit."

"Language," Dr. Lopez tells her. "And considering, you can't really believe that."

"Whatever," Santana sulks, slumping back onto her bed.

"You brought this on yourself," Mrs. Lopez says.

And then they're both gone, slamming the door shut behind them.

…

Friday is odd. She's grounded and yet both her parents go to work, apparently trusting that she'll stay in the house. It doesn't quite make sense to her.

Still feeling sore from yesterday, she spends the day on the couch watching daytime TV and popping aspirin like they're candy. It's kind of boring, but she doesn't know what else to do.

…

Friday night means a party, of course. Santana doesn't want to go, but also knows notmaking an appearance would cause too many questions.

Being grounded makes it a bit more difficult, but she still manages to sneak out. She walks to the corner and catches a ride with Puckerman. Thankfully he doesn't say anything.

They split when they arrive; Puck off to find a chick to take advantage of and Santana for some alcohol. It'll help her feel better physically and mentally, at least for a while.

No one seems to like her, though they obviously fear her. The fight with Karofsky probably helps that a lot. Still she's used to it, but having no one in her corner, except for Brittany is tough. She's used to a bit more support.

She really misses Rachel.

Still she's Santana fucking Lopez; appearances must be kept. She grabs a beer and begins to wander.

People mostly stay out of her way, though she still gets a few propositions. Santana briefly wonders if it's still considered cheating if you're in another universe.

The only problem is that leaves Santana with an image of the other Santana with her hands all over herRachel. Fighting the need to punch a hole in the wall, Santana finishes her beer and goes off in search of more liquor.

In the kitchen, she finds more beer and does a couple body shots of tequila off her fellow drunk Cheerios

Now stumbling through the party, Santana is drunk. On the dance floor, Brittany is getting down and dirty, so Santana joins her. She's always enjoyed drunk grinding with Britt.

She gets lost in the music and so when Brittany decides to stop a few songs later, Santana is left drunk, horny and full of energy.

Santana grabs another beer and fights off the urge to find a warm body to keep her company.

Even though she has no interest in having sex with anyone other than Rachel, it's still hard to break old habits; especially drunk and lonely in another universe.

It's such an absurd thought that she lets out a loud laugh, scaring the others around her.

And then Santana sees her. Rachel.

Santana can't help herself. She's drawn her.

Rachel is leaning against the wall, watching the festivities.

"Didn't expect to see you here," Santana slurs.

"Despite my stance on underage drinking, I believe in socializing with my peers," Rachel replies. "I could say the same of you, though. I can't imagine you escaped yesterday's… antics without punishment."

"You'd be right," Santana agrees. "But you know I don't always follow the rules."

"That's certainly true."

"So why are you here all alone?" Santana asks.

"Quinn's making her rounds."

"Of course. Q has to make her grand appearance, after all."

"That she does," Rachel nods.

"Queen Q does love her power," Santana continues.

"Your jealousy is ridiculously transparent, Santana," Rachel replies.

"Can you blame me?" Santana asks. "She has everything I want; head Cheerio, ultimate popularity, definitive power. You."

"Yes, well, life isn't always what we want it to be," Rachel says.

"Truer words have never been spoken, babe," Santana sneers. "Smart girls are so hot."

"Santana, please don't ruin this almost nice moment by reverting to yourself."

Santana chuckles.

"I'm only tolerating you because you're drunk," Rachel continues.

"Lucky me," Santana leers. "Cause there are plenty of fun things we could do. I only get better when I'm drunk. Can your precious Quinnie say that?"

"We're done conversing now," Rachel announces. She stands upright. "I'm going to go find Quinn."

"Your loss, babe," Santana calls after her.

Rachel doesn't respond.

"Or my loss, really," Santana mumbles to herself.

…

Santana is in the backyard, her back against a tree as she sits and drinks. She knew talking to Rachel, drunk, was a bad idea, but she just couldn't help herself. Pissed off Rachel is so hot.

"Lopez, what the fuck?" Puck says, plopping down on the grass next to Santana.

"Be less specific, Fuckerman," Santana growls as she finishes her beer.

"You've been acting weird this week," Puck answers. "What's up with that?"

"Dealing with some shit."

"When is that not true?" Puck asks. "Share with the ole Puckeronie. He cares."

Santana snorts. "You're not getting into my pants tonight, Puckerman. So save it."

"Lopez," Puck says. "I'm wounded. As if that's all I care about."

"Course not," Santana replies. "There's also getting drunk."

"Don't forget video games," Puck grins.

"Exactly."

They lapse into silence as Puck finishes his beer.

"Dam, you're not still stuck on Berry on you?"

Santana doesn't reply.

"I mean, I'll admit she's hot. Those legs in her skirts is definitely a sin. But it's been years. Practically."

"I don't have to justify myself to your Fuckerman. It's complicated."

"It always is with you, Lopez," Puck agrees. "But I'm here for you or whatever. I know what it's like to lose the girl you want due to stupid shit."

Santana looks at Puck. "Yeah. I guess you would," Santana agrees. "But I don't want to talk about it. Okay?"

"Course. Course. I understand." Puck pulls a small glass bottle out of his pocket. "Whiskey?"

"Hell yeah," Santana rasps. She grabs the bottle and chugs almost half of it.

"Damn…"

"I'll get you another one later," Santana tells him.

"You better." Puck swipes the bottle out of Santana's grasp and takes a large pull.

Before he can drink more, Santana snatches the bottle back and finishes it. Before Puck can say anything, she pulls an unopened beer from her back pocket. Puck looks at it, shakes his head and twists the cap off. He then downs half of it.

"You're a weird chick, Lopez."

"Keeps you interested, Puckerman," Santana retorts.

…

Head pounding, Santana wakes up. Her eyes stay closed; she figures her throbbing head and horribly dry eyes will appreciate it.

She's pretty sure she's not in her own bed. Her surroundings just don't feel familiar. Even less than they already do.

And she's definitely not alone. As soon as she realizes it's not her bed, Santana figured as much, but had hoped she was wrong. It seems that luck is not on her side, but then again that's usually true; especially considering her current predicament.

She decides to risk it and opens her eyes. The room isn't familiar, but considering, that's not saying much. The head of dark hair still buried in the sheets reveal very little. Santana slides out of bed as quietly as possible and quickly dresses. Taking in her surroundings, she sees a lot of soccer related items and she starts to get a bad feeling. She sees a picture on the desk and walks over to take a closer look.

It's Michelle Jamieson posing with two girls who are almost definitely her sisters.

Santana is barely able to hold back a curse and she hurries out of the bedroom, down the stairs and out the front door.

…

Weirdly Michele Jamieson doesn't live that far from her. Though Santana wishes she could remember how she ended up in the soccer player's bed. She spends the walk home trying to decide the best way to get into the house without getting into trouble. Part of her wonders why she cares. She's getting out of here. Santana can't feel bad about putting the other Santana in a bad position since the girl obviously has no qualms about ruining other people's lives.

God, she'll be so glad when this whole thing is over and done with.

Of course, when she arrives home, she has a surprise waiting for her: a pissed off Quinn Fabray sitting on the front step.

"Q," she greets.

"S," Quinn growls back.

"To what do I owe such a dubious surprise on this fine morning?"

"It's 12:45," Quinn says.

"Early afternoon. Whatever."

"We need to talk-"

"Obviously."

"About Rachel," Quinn finishes.

"What about Berry?" Santana asks.

"You were harassing her last night," Quinn accuses.

"Actually we were conversing," Santana replies. "I just tend to get a little… saucy when I drink is all."

"You're a real bitch," Quinn says.

"Back atcha, Cap'n."

"I thought we'd figured this out already," Quinn says.

"We did," Santana insists, even if technically it wasn't herthat Quinn's referring to.

"Then why am I here?"

"That's something only you can answer, Fabray," Santana retorts. "I'm allowed to talk to her. She could've told me to fuck off anytime. But she didn't."

"Just stay away from her," Quinn snaps. "You've been really weird lately."

"Maybe it's you, oh paranoid one."

"I don't have time for your games, S," Quinn replies. "Stay out of Rachel's way and we'll all be just fine."

"Whatever," Santana replies. "Move. I'm hung over and can't deal with you right now."

"Fine." Quinn stands. "I'm leaving. But I meant what I said."

"Uh huh," Santana grumbles. "Later." She waves with more energy than she has.

Quinn stomps to her car, parked in the street and drives away quickly.

Santana sighs, goes inside and up to her room.

…

Santana spends Saturday sleeping off her hang over. Thankfully, her parents are weirdly trusting of her and were gone when she arrived home. Which also explains why Quinn was sitting on the step.

It's lonely and strengthens Santana's resolve to escape this universe.

…

Sunday morning, Santana is woken up by a text from Brittany.

Uncle Marco said come over

Santana hopes that means he has a solution. She's not sure how much more of this place she can take.

She quickly dresses and climbs out her window, ignoring the soreness her body is still feeling.

…

Santana finds Brittany and Marco in the kitchen she arrives at the Pierce's.

"I know how to get you back," Marco announces.

"Thank fucking god," Santana mutters as she sits at the table.

"My shaman friend came through and found a modernized counter spell," Marco continues.

"Let's hear it," Santana replies.

Marco pulls out his phone and opens the email. "He says it has to be done at midnight on the night of a full moon. You slash your palm with a large knife and cover it with your own blood. You then use the knife, still covered in your blood to stir a mixture of Earl Grey tea, ground up Cassava root and rose petals. You drink the mixture, recite the spell and make your wish."

"That seems easy," Brittany says.

Santana can only stare.

"I know how it sounds," Marco says. "But you remember the spell that got you here, don't you?"

Santana nods.

"It was just as ridiculous."

"You want me to cut my hand, put the blood on the knife and then add myblood to a mixture of things I never want to ingest separately, much less together?"

"Basically."

"And what the hell is a Cassava root?" Santana asks.

Marco searches on his phone. "Well according to Wikipedia it's a woody shrub of the Euphorbiaceae native to South America, and is extensively cultivated as an annual crop in tropical and subtropical regions for its edible starchy tuberous root, a major source of carbohydrates."

"Oh well, then that explains it," Santana snarks. "Wait a minute. Where the hell am I even supposed to find Cassava root?"

"The store, duh," Brittany says.

"I'm sure we can find some somewhere," Marco replies.

"Since this is all your fault," Santana says. "You're in charge of getting the ingredients."

"Now, wait a minute," Marco protests.

"I'm serious," Santana replies. "And when is the next full moon, anyway? Please tell me it wasn't yesterday."

"You're in luck," Marco answers. "We looked it while we were waiting for you. It's actually Thursday night."

"Well that's a lucky break, anyway."

"San's right, Uncle Marco," Brittany says. "You should be in charge of getting everything. It's only fair. Plus, you'd know where to get it. And can afford it. Poor San doesn't have any money."

"Yeah," Santana adds.

Marco sighs. He can't say no to Brittany. "Fine. I'll get everything, including the knife. But you two are going to have to come up with the spell."

"What?" Santana asks. "Isn't that something you got in your email?"

"No," Marco shakes his head. "Apparently you're supposed to write your own. That one you found, apparently the other you wrote it."

"Hmph. Well that's interesting."

"Don't worry, San," Brittany says. "I'm working on one."

"Uh, Britt, I'm not sure how-"

"Wanna hear?"

Santana sighs. "Sure."

Brittany holds up the notebook she has in front of her. "Reverse what has happened. Undo what has been done. Return what is right. And repair what is wrong. I request of thee. Please fix my fate. I cannot stay. I need to leave. Return what is right. And repair what is wrong." Brittany looks up at Santana expectantly. "I used the one my San wrote. It helped."

"That's actually not bad, Britt," Santana says, smiling. "Thanks."

"That should work just fine," Marco agrees.

"So I'm going home?"

"You're going home."

…

Now that Santana knows how she's getting home, she can relax. Sort of. Of course now it's just a matter of waiting. It's only four days. She's counting her blessing since the wait could have been a month. But still, she hates waiting.

Britt helps distract her Sunday, even going as far as to sneak into Santana's room after lunch. They spend the day watching movies and talking. It's not a horrible Sunday afternoon. She has to wonder about this whole grounding thing though, because her parents don't seem to be checking up on her too much.

"They're probably afraid you'll throw your chair at them or something," Brittany says casually.

"Say what?"

"You did last year after Rachel told you that she and Quinn were dating," Brittany answers. "Your parents were mad about your falling grades and so you threw a chair at your dad."

"Holy shit."

"You missed," Brittany continues. "But it broke completely. It was really bad."

"I bet."

"Yeah. I was really surprised that they grounded you. I woulda thought they'd be afraid of being chaired again."

"I'm really not very nice am I?" Santana asks.

"You're just in pain," Brittany assures her. "And you don't know how to deal with it or ask for help."

"Oh."

"But don't worry," Brittany says. "I won't give up on you."

"Thanks Britt."

…

Monday is beyond boring. She spends the day watching TV, exploring her room and surfing the internet trying to find things that are different. The big things seem to be the same. The president is still Obama and there's still a war going on. But she does notice a few smaller differences like different TV shows, movies and weirdly the ending to the Harry Potter books. Which she only read because of Brittany.

At one point, she's so bored, she takes a nap and tries not to feel like a toddler or a ninety year old woman.

…

Tuesday is spent much the same way, killing time. Though around noon, feeling lonely and missing her girlfriend, Santana logs onto MySpace and watches Rachel's videos.

It actually helps. A lot. She spends the rest of the day watching them. After the third time through, she creates a new account and begins leaving complimentary comments, hoping to counter all the negativity already there.

Feeling almost normal, Santana goes to bed, glad her suspension is over tomorrow.

…

Wednesday Santana wakes up excited to go to school; more out of boredom than anything else. She supposes she could have escaped the house since her parents were at work, but it's Lima, so it's not like she had a lot of options.

No one gets anywhere near her when she enters McKinley. That was certainly true last week, but today it seems even more obvious. She's at her locker when she sees Karofsky and she understands a bit of the other students fear.

He looks like hell. He's walking like it hurts to do so and he has an arm in a sling. His face is a mess of bruises and cuts and he's wearing an eye patch. Santana hopes she didn't blind him; that seems a bit cruel, even for her.

Santana feels her respect grow for him though when he notices her and only flinches slightly. He gives her no other reaction and out of anyone, he has the most right to.

She nods at him and walks towards class. While he simply stood at his locker, awkwardly pulling out books as she walked by, their classmates scurry out of the way, some almost tripping in their haste. It's pathetic and Santana lets herself chuckle a bit.

…

During Cheerios practice she has to endure Coach Sylvester constantly yelling at her. It seems the reason Coach didn't try to bail her out is that it's not the first time something like this has happened. It's moments like this that she wishes she kept a journal or something, so she could have some sort of guide to this universe. Britt's been great about filling in some holes, but considering the blonde says they've at odds some this year, it's probably that there's a lot she doesn't know.

So Santana puts up with the constant ridicule, extra laps, the suicides and extended practice. The physical is a nice distraction from her brain, anyway.

When it's all over and she's flat at her back, trying to summon the effort to sit and drink some water, a shadow stands over her.

"Not terrible, Lopez," Coach Sylvester says. "Keep this up and I may not demote you to the bottom of the pyramid again."

Again, Santana thinks. But all she does is nod slightly as she finally manages to sit up and sip the water that Brittany left for her.

Coach Sylvester smirks, nods and just as quick, is gone.

…

Her mother is in the kitchen when she gets home. Knowing she had Cheerios practice, nothing is said, though she does raise an eyebrow at Santana's appearance. Santana ignores her and goes up to shower.

She eats dinner with her parents, keeping quiet, but trying not to appear too surly or sullen. It must work because while her parents ignore her, there's an air of peace surrounding the table.

When she goes to bed that night, it's knowing that she'll be home soon. And so she falls asleep with a smile on her face.

A/N: So I couldn't decide how I wanted to end this crazy thing, so I wrote two endings.

Ending A: Home Sweet Home

Thursday, Santana wakes up a bit nervous. Today is the day she gets out of here. Even though it's not as bad as she first thought, it's still not her world; she doesn't belong. And so she's getting out of here.

…

The plan is to meet Marco and Brittany in the park at 11:30. Marco claims it has to be done outside or it won't work. Santana's pretty sure he just wants to justify being there, so he can watch, but whatever. He came through with the ingredients, so she doesn't care; as long as she gets back.

…

School is a distraction. Though Santana couldn't tell you what happens or what was discussed in class. She supposes, technically, it doesn't matter. She mostly amuses herself by thinking of things to do when she gets back; things she took for granted. She might even be grateful for Felix if she was forced to admit it.

…

At lunch, she sits next to Brittany and Artie at the glee table. Judging by the reactions of the other occupants, this doesn't happen too often. So she just eats and stays quiet. Santana listens to the others' discussions and marvels at the differences in this universe.

…

After school, the wait is excruciating. Santana has dinner with her parents and it's a quiet affair. She tries not to seem to sullen; just quietly eating her food.

Her parents chat about their days and ask brief, simple questions about hers. Santana gives basic answers and tries to not start anything.

When dinner is over, she offers to clean up, in hopes of killing more time. Her shocked parents accept and Santana feels bad about giving them hope, since she has no idea how the other her will react when she gets back.

Once she's done, she heads up to her room and does her homework. Because once again, it's a distraction. When that's done, the only thing left to do is mess around on the internet and wait for her parents to go to sleep.

At 11:30, she's climbing out her bedroom window and off to the park.

…

Brittany and Marco are already at the park when she arrives. Brittany greets her with a hug. Marco has everything set out.

"So do I have to wait until midnight?" Santana asks.

"That's what I was told," Marco answers.

"Listen, thanks for, you know, getting all the stuff," Santana tells him.

Marco just shakes his head. "It's a bit of my fault, I suppose," he says. "Least I could do. Besides, things have to be set right. Can't have people jumping universes and such. Can we?"

"No way, Uncle Marco," Brittany adds. "But I'm gonna miss you San."

"Yeah, I'm gonna miss you too, Britt. But don't give up on her. Okay?"

Brittany nods. "I'll try."

The alarm on Marco's watch beeps.

"Okay, let's do this," Santana says.

Santana accepts the knife from Marco. He holds the glass containing the tea, the Cassava root and the rose petals. Brittany is holding the spell. Gritting her teeth, she slashes her palm. Once the blood starts pooling, she grimaces as she wipes her blood on the blade.

She then accepts the glass from Marco and slides the blade into the liquid. She gives it a few quick stirs and then a few more for good measure. She drinks it, just barely; it's possibly the worst thing she's ever tasted.

Once she's sure her gag reflex won't cough it back up, she takes the sheet of paper from Brittany and begins to read.

Reverse what has happened
Undo what has been done
Return what is right
And repair what is wrong
I request of thee
Please fix my fate
I cannot stay
I need to leave
Return what is right
And repair what is wrong

Santana then looks up at the full moon. "I want to go home. I want to be back in my universe, with my Rachel and her back here, where she belongs."

There's so flash of light or shooting star to signal anything happened, so Santana looks to Marco.

He shrugs. "That's it. If it worked, you should wake up tomorrow in your own bed, in your universe."

"And if it didn't?"

"Then you won't," he replies.

"Great. Thanks," Santana says.

"Come one, San," Brittany says. "We'll drive you home."

"Thanks Britt."

…

Laying in bed, Santana stares at the ceiling and tries to will herself back to sleep. According to Marco it won't work unless she's asleep. Santana briefly wonders what happens if she doesn't fall asleep. Will it work anyway? Maybe the potion makes a person fall asleep. It certainly tasted disgusting. Santana hopes it worked for the simple fact she never wants to drink that horrible concoction ever again.

Eventually her eyes feel heavy and Santana drifts off.

…

Santana wakes up slowly. It's quiet. And early, judging by the just rising sun shining through the window.

And then Santana notices she's not in her own bed, or in her own room. She sits up slowly, almost scared to know for sure.

She's in Rachel's room, though alone in the bed. Listening, she can hear the faint sounds of water running. Hopefully that means Rachel is in the bathroom. Santana can barely hold back her whoop of joy, though she can't be one hundred percent sure until she sees her girl.

A moment later, Rachel reappears. She yawns and snuggles back into bed with Santana. Rachel wraps herself around Santana and closes her eyes.

Santana can't stop the shit eating grin from appearing on her face. She's back. It worked. Santana is back in her universe, with her Rachel and everything is the way it should be again.

"Shhh, Tiger," Rachel whispers. "We still have a whole hour before school. Sleep."

"Anything you say, babe," Santana whispers back. "I love you."

"Love you too."

…

Santana wakes up in her own bed instead of Rachel's and instantly knows she's back in her own terrible world. She curses loudly into her pillow. She had been in heaven and it's now been snatched away from her. How the fuck did the other her figure out how to return things to normal?

She climbs out of bed and looks around. It's only been a couple weeks and so nothing really changed. She supposes the other her was more worried about getting away than anything else.

Her computer is in sleep mode and she moves the mouse. She's surprised to find a video on the screen. Looking closer, she sees the name of the file is For Santana. Her curiosity piqued, she clicks play. And finds herself staring at herself or Santana realizes after closer examination, her other self. This knowledge is confirmed by her other self when she holds up her cell phone showing the date and time of three days ago.

Santana stares at herself on screen. They look exactly the same, but Santana can see they have very little in common anymore. Still, it's strange that she just sort of knew it wasn't her, personally, but her other self.

And then she starts talking. "If you're watching this, then you're back in my world and I'm back in mine. I understand why you did it. Just as you'll understand why I had to get back. Maybe if you can figure your shit out, your Rachel will give you another chance. Though trying to steal her from Quinn seems pretty low.

"So instead, I'll just say this. Don't you dare try this again. If you ever come after me or myRachel again, there will be consequences. You think your world is no fun now? Well, let me roam free for a while and then be appalled by the world you return to. Because I promise you, it will be even worse than you're thinking right now. And I will always make it back to my Rachel.

"And if I have to, I will personally find you. And then you'll finally know what it's like to get your ass kicked, because I will make you feel pain.

"Let me give you a piece of advice. It doesn't do any good to live in the past. Look ahead and try to be a better person. Maybe if you're willing to let someone in, you'll find that acceptance and love that Rachel represents to you. There are other people who care about you.

"Good luck. We're sort of a part of each other, so I really do mean it."

The Santana on the screen smirks, gives a half wave and then leans forward. The screen goes blank.

Leaving Santana to stare at the blackness. The fucking nerve of her to do that. Just because she got lucky this time, doesn't mean she will again. Though Santana supposes the same could be said about her. She could do the spell again, but she's not sure she can guarantee that she'll end up back in that exact world. In fact, she could end up in a world even worse than this one. She supposes she could try to find another spell, but it took so long to find this one. She isn't even sure if there's anywhere left to look.

For now all she can do is stare at her blank computer screen and bask in the memories of the other universe. She wonders if the other Santana knows how good she has it. By the sound of it, she does.

Lucky fucking bitch.

Ending B: It was only a dream…

Thursday, Santana wakes up a bit nervous. Today is the day she gets out of here. Even though it's not as bad as she first thought, it's still not her world; she doesn't belong. And so she's getting out of here.

…

Santana's tempted to skip school. It's not like she cares anymore and god knows what kind of trouble will happen if she does. But Santana knows she'll go nuts without a distraction and school's as good of one as any, so she goes.

Thankfully Brittany seems to understand how impatient Santana's feeling and grabs her pinky the moment she steps foot into the school. It helps a lot.

…

The day passes slowly, but at least Santana's mostly distracted. Her classes are as useless as always, but it's something to do. Though she mostly sits in the back and plays games on her phone.

And then in third, Figgins calls her to his office. With a sigh, Santana gathers her books and stalks towards his office. She goes in without waiting to be announced and slumps into a chair.

"Uh, Ms. Lopez," Figgins says. "I see you received my note."

"Uh huh."

"I wanted to speak with you about your behavior."

Santana barely nods, waiting for him to speak.

"Just because your suspension is over, doesn't mean I don't have my eye on you," Figgins tells her. "This is the fourth time you've been suspended this year. Once more and I'll have to expel you."

Santana wasn't aware of that.

"And while I hate to do that, don't think you'll be given any leeway because of your positions on the Cheerios or even because of glee club," Figgins continues. "You've done too much lately for me to look the other way. Especially since neither Coach Sylvester or Mr. Schuester have come to me to plead on your behalf."

Santana snorts. It'd be a cold day in hell when Mr. Schuester advocates for her.

"Consider this your only warning, Ms. Lopez," Figgins says. "The next time you step out of line will be your last. But if you do so, I hear Jane Adams Academy is always accepting applications."

"Is that all?" Santana asks.

Figgins sighs. "Yes, that is all. But I meant every word of it, Ms. Lopez. Remember that."

Santana scoffs as she stands. "Of course, sir."

…

Exiting Figgins' office, Santana is greeted by Becky. Knowing Coach Sylvester must want to talk to her, she just nods and follows her down the hall.

In Coach Sylvester's office, she stands until Coach indicates she should sit.

"I've been noticing some odd things about you Lopez," Coach Sylvester starts. "And I don't like it."

"Coach, I-"

Coach Sylvester holds up a hand. "I don't want to hear your excuses, Lopez. You know that. Words mean nothing. I believe in actions."

Santana just nods.

"And while I know you've been going through your own personal drama, I also know it's mostly your own doing. And so I'm giving you this warning. Figure your shit out. You have a very small window of opportunity to get back into my good graces. The only reason you even get this warning is because you're Santana Lopez. You know only one other person would get this kind of treatment."

"Quinn," Santana spats.

"Exactly. So unless you want to find yourself in loserville and off the squad, shape up."

"Understood, Coach."

"Good. Dismissed."

…

Santana just barely manages to make it through the rest of the day. The minutes tick by, far too slowly for Santana's liking. Each class feels more useless than normal. She's a mass of nervous energy and she does her best to not let it show too much. Or worse, take her impatience out on others.

Brittany seems to sense this and sends distracting text messages. Some are funny things she's seen today; while others are just random thoughts she has. It's enough to divert her attention enough to make it through the rest of the day.

…

When Santana arrives home, she's surprised to find her papa's car already in the garage. Fearing another confrontation, she debates, driving off, but knows since she's technically still grounded, it's probably a dangerous idea.

Cautiously, she enters the house and goes up to her room. Her father is waiting for her.

"Papa," she greets.

"Santana."

"You're home early," Santana says.

"We need to talk," he tells her.

"All right." Santana sits on her bed.

"I received a call from your principal today," Dr. Lopez starts.

"Hey, I didn't do anything wrong," Santana protests.

"He wanted to inform me that if you get suspended one more time, he has to expel you."

"Yeah, he said as much today," Santana says.

"You are not going to be expelled," he tells her. "Your mother and I won't stand for it."

"Uh…"

"I just don't understand where we went wrong," Dr. Lopez muses. "We never had any problem with your brother-"

"Don't compare me to him-"

"Either way," Dr. Lopez continues. "Since it seems like you need a stronger hand to guide you, the rules are changing a bit around here."

"Um…"

"There will be no more sneaking out when you're grounded," Dr. Loepz tells her. "And to ensure that, you'll notice I've boarded up your windows-"

"What? No fucking way!"

"Language, young lady," Dr. Lopez says. "And when you get home from school every day, you will be handing over your car keys-"

"You've got to be fucking kidding me!"

"Curse like that again and there will be even more consequences, young lady," he warns.

"Whatever," Santana grumbles.

Dr. Lopez holds out his hand. Santana drops her car keys into it.

"Thank you," he says. "Once your grounding is over, we can discuss the situation again. Until then, this is how it will be. Your mother or I will be home when you're done with school and we will collect your keys every day. And if I find you've made any sort of attempts to take the boards off your windows, there will be severe consequences. Understand?"

"Yes, sir," Santana replies, sullen.

"Good." And Dr. Lopez exits the room, shutting the door behind him.

…

Despite the warning, Santana has to try to loosen the boards over her windows. There's no way in hell she's losing her chance to escape this universe. She can't wait another month for the next full moon. The thought of being stuck for much longer is sending her into panic mode. And then she thinks about her Rachel with the other Santana, causing her to stop examining the window and take several deep breaths to calm down.

When she's relaxed a bit, she returns to her snooping. But it seems like her papa was quite thorough. The only way she's getting out this window is with a crowbar, but she's not even sure her papa has one of those. And to get it, she'd have to go downstairs and into the garage.

She slowly opens her door, careful not to make any noise. Quietly, she creeps down the stairs and listens. She doesn't hear anything, but that just most likely means her papa is reading somewhere. Hopefully in his room.

Santana carefully makes her way to the garage, only to be stopped by her papa's voice.

"What did I say about trying to take the boards off?" he calls from the kitchen. "I already took all the tools you might need and hid them."

Santana sighs in defeat.

"Get back to your room. Now."

Santana nods, even though he can't really see her and heads back up the stairs.

…

Because she doesn't have her car, she's going to have to leave earlier. She only hopes her parents are asleep. The house is quiet, but that doesn't mean anything.

Once again she opens her door carefully and closes it silently. She creeps down the stairs, ears open, but she hears nothing. It seems that her parents are asleep.

However, she's in for a shock when she reaches the front door. There's a cot in front of it and someone obviously sleeping on it. She can't tell who it is, but she's pretty sure it's neither of her parents. So despite the risk, she inches closes for a better look.

It's Felix. When the hell did her brother get here? Is he really going to be around for weeks to sleep in front of the door? It's the most absurd thing she's ever heard, but apparently it's true.

God damnit, Santana thinks. Couldn't Figgins have waited one more day? She just needed freedom for one more night, so she can be out of here. She fights back tears because it doesn't seem like she's getting out of her tonight.

Back up in her room, she pulls out her phone and texts Brittany about the situation. She doesn't want them to be out there waiting for her.

I can't escape my house.

How come? Did you forget how?

Brittany texts back.

No, my parents have locked me in. I don't think I can make it. Can we try again at the next full moon? /i

The wait is longer this time.

Uncle Marco says no. It has to happen on the first full moon you experience or else it won't work.

No.

Santana texts. That can't be true. I can't be stuck here.

Then you better get here before midnight.

Brittany texts back.

I'll try.

And she does. She looks around her room for another escape route. Something has to spark an idea. But nothing does. Finally when it strikes midnight, she sinks onto her bed with a sob. That's it. It's over. She's stuck here.

When she's finally done crying, she kicks off her shoes and crawls into bed. Knowing she's stuck here now, she feels like she's drowning. She lays in bed until her depression and tears tire her out.

…

"San. San. Santana, wake up."

Santana shoots up in bed, almost losing her balance and half falling out of bed. From her awkward position, Santana looks up to find a giggling girlfriend. She glares.

"Morning," Rachel waves. "You overslept. Get up or I'm leaving without you."

"But that means no happy fun time," Santana protests.

Rachel shrugs. "You overslept."

"Not my fault," Santana replies. "I had the weirdest dream. At least, I think it was a dream. Do you love me?"

"Um, yes, of course I do," Rachel says slowly. "Why?"

"And we've been dating for…"

"A bit over a year," Rachel finishes.

"And who is your bro?"

"Noah?"

"Right. Good. Yeah. Just a dream."

"You okay there, tiger?" Rachel asks.

"Tiger," Santana says. She pulls Rachel down onto the bed with her. "Everything is great. It might even be perfect."