Chapter One:

Homes are made for hearts to rest,

When only hurt sleeps in your chest.

Rachel looked about the gym, spotting her dads in the back row waving like crazy. She smiled as her daddy filmed the whole thing while her dad dabbed at his eyes with a handkerchief.

Today she was graduating and she was glad to see the back of High school and it's rollercoaster of hormones and its perilous halls. She was glad to wave away those people that had made her life a living hell for so long, but most of all she was excited to wave away Lima all together.

Rachel Berry was the exact opposite of everything a Lima Loser was to be described as; she was driven, possessed dreams and above all harboured a totally positive attitude to her future. So it was no surprise to anyone when she announced in Glee club that she was moving to New York to study at Julliard.

The only thing was; she wasn't. She may have been moving to New York, but she had decided against attending or auditioning for Julliard due to her realization that yes, even Rachel Berry needed a backup plan. So instead she had enrolled at NYU to study Law, English Language, Literature and other various academic subjects that would ensure her a steady future if her plan for stardom did not work.

None of the others knew this though, they were all under the impression she was moving to New York to become a young star through Julliard and work her way up to fame and fortune.

"Rachel Berry!"

She made her way up the steps and shook Principal Figgins' hand, ignoring the frenzy of snaps from her dads at the back of the hall. Beaming her usual Rachel Berry smile she took her seat on the other end of the stage, staring out across the sea of parents and families. She felt a tear fall silently down her cheek when her eyes fell on one Quinn Fabray.

The regret of never fully understanding a girl so complicated and perilously intriguing to Rachel overwhelmed her as she took in the form of the blonde whom sat quietly in contemplation. She wished, that just for once Quinn would meet her gaze, perhaps there would be forgiveness in Rachel's heart if she did, perhaps even a smile would work its way onto her face if only the blonde looked up. After all they had taken National's together, come through so much since the unfortunate baby gate scandal and Shelby's idea to adopt Beth.

But Quinn didn't look up and Rachel was left alone in her shy extension of silent comradeship.

Oh well, there was always the party later.


"Hey San! Come dance!"

Santana turned to see Brittany twirling her hips as the bass beat dropped. She smiled and shook her head, clutching the bottle of whisky in her hand.

"Nah, I'm gonna go find some space and gets my Jack Daniels on!" she replied and Brittany shrugged before pulling Mike from Tina's embrace.

Santana made her way to the porch of Puck's house, sitting perilously on the rail of the balcony before throwing the lid to the bottle away.

She sat thinking for a while as she took sips.

She and Brittany had broken up a few weeks back. It had taken so long to get together but it was for hardly any time at all, they were going to opposite ends of the country for college and they both knew neither of them was in a place to keep their relationship together. Santana was, as reminded, "like a lizard" and Brittany had such a misinformed guide to cheating that it was hopeless them trying to be in a long-distance committed relationship when they were so young.

"I hope you know you haven't done much to deserve me catching you if you fall off."

Santana turned as Quinn edged out onto the balcony.

"Hey there Tubbers, who said I'm gonna fall off?"

They both laughed and Quinn took the bottle from her friend.

"Hey, it would be nice to ask first. And careful, Puckerman's about…" the Latina joked and Quinn flipped the bird before stowing the bottle under a lawn chair.

"I'm hiding it, you've had enough."

Santana shrugged before turning to the dark streets and watching the night go by.

"You knew Britt would let you go." Quinn muttered quietly and Santana let out a long stream of air from her lungs. It wasn't a question but Santana could tell it wasn't a statement, it was a prompt. Prompts where the only way Quinn and Santana knew how to talk without screaming at each other before grudgingly opening up.

"I did it for the good of the relationship."

"Why?" the blonde pushed.

"Why do you have to ask?"

"I just wanted to talk about it…"

"You just wanted to talk about it…" Santana snorted. "Mind, you never were one for light conversation."

Quinn perched herself on the rail next to her friend.

"The way I see it, she's going out to Berkeley to do what she loves and I'm going to go and make my family proud as a law student." Santana shrugged.

"She loves you more."

"And you don't think I know that? Why else do you think I made her let me go? I'm bad news Q, she has a future!" she took a breath. "I'm not gonna sit here and say that it's not breaking my heart, but it's the right decision."

"You're being pig-headed…"

"And as usual you're interfering! I mean what the fuck Quinn!" Santana threw her hands in the air. "You've been interfering since day one! This whole fucking journey with Glee started with you interfering with Rachel and Finn."

Quinn just sat in stunned silence.

"Look where that got you Q. Heartbroken while Finn rides off into the Tennessee sunset and Rachel goes to live her dream. Do I even need to mention which of them you were really in love with?"

Quinn felt the blow of seven years of hurt hit her right in the heart. The very vessel that had only been beating for the girl her best friend had mentioned in her tirade. She stood, unable to stomach the bitterness of Santana's regret in her own misguided life decisions.

"You're so fucking bitter Santana. And one day the bitterness in your heart is going to poison you and everything around you."

With that Quinn stalked away, grabbing the bottle of Jack Daniels and hoping that she would find Rachel somewhere with the pretence of strong liquor to stare at her as she dances.

"And that's how we do it in Lima Heights." Santana announced meekly to the dark front yard.


"It's not much, but its home."

Rachel nodded to the bare walls as the furniture was being moved in. Her dads looked around at the stained white paint and creaky floor.

"For now anyway." She added as Hiram played with his tape measure.

"Honey…" Leroy rolled his eyes as the smaller brunette man pushed his glasses up his nose. "For the last time, it's all gonna fit!"

"I know Lee, I know. I just…"

Hiram Berry turned from his husbands fond eyes to the scared facial expression on his daughters face.

"You're so old!" he managed to croak as Rachel looked back indignantly.

"Forgive me, but whom is it that keeps hair dye in the medicine cupboard to keep his locks looking youthful?"

Leroy rubbed his stubbled head.

"Agh, sorry darling that would be me." He grinned before pulling her into a hug. "But he's right you know. Last time we were in New York for more than a few days was when we came to meet Shelby."

Rachel acknowledged this.

"I guess I was just destined for New York then."

"Destined for the high life." Hiram corrected and looked her straight in the eye. "It's not too late to go to Juilliard. With your recommendations they'd bend over backwards…"

He silenced himself as a hand met the air before his face.

"Daddy." Rachel sighed. "You always say Berry's stick with their decisions; it's in the rulebook right? That's what I'm doing. I'm sticking to my decision. I need the back-up plan."

"It's also stated in the Berry rulebook that one should always succumb to her father's hugs!" Leroy chuckled and grabbed Rachel again, this time bringing Hiram along with them. They stayed like that for a few minutes; the older men wondering how many long moments of intervening life it would take for them to hug their little girl like that again.


"So. I guess this is goodbye."

Santana nodded as she dumped her last bag in the back of the van and turned to the three people she would not have been able to survive high school without.

"Well don't just stand there Lopez! Come here!"

Puck pulled her into a hug, crushing her body against his. She stiffened at the initial contact but relaxed into his musky scented chest as she remembered their history. They loved each other, no doubts were ever aired on that, but not because they had shared so many sexual encounters.

Their love had been misinterpreted then, but now Puck was Santana's certified lesbro, or at least that's how he referred to it. They were best friends in a way she and Quinn or even she and Brittany could never have been.

"I love you."

She surprised herself by saying it but was relieved when it came out in a muffled whisper against his black muscle tight vest. She felt him smile into her hair and a grunt came in reply, a noise of both acknowledgement and reciprocation.

Santana pulled back, tears in her eyes but only just. She egged them back with her thoughts and they obliged, the same couldn't be said for Puckerman. He stood, arms by his side that felt strangely empty, poised awkwardly after the hug, with tears falling silently on his cheeks. He shot her a cheeky grin and held out his hand.

She slapped it before they bumped fists and clicked their fingers in each other's faces, their secret handshake a salute for a rarely emotional Puck. Even though he was crying like a baby he was well composed and rocked the emotional look well. Santana vaguely wondered, somewhere hidden in the cacophony of thoughts that was her mind, why he wasn't going into acting like Sam and Mercedes were.

"Later Lopez."

"Peace out Puck."

It was a strange exchange to witness for the other two people waiting their turn for farewell, but Santana and Puck had been discreetly using those parting words for the last seven years since they met. He waved at her as he walked away, obviously unable to keep his composure as he got into his beaten out mustang. Santana peered down the length of her van and saw Lauren give her a grave nod. Santana returned it as Puck revved the engine as a parting salute before speeding out of the estate. She wondered if he could even see from all the tears.

"He took that well."

Santana turned to the blonde leaning on the side of the van.

"Yeah well, you know." Santana grimaced.

There was a moment of silence as Quinn bit her lip and looked at the ground.

"Q, listen about the party."

"Forgive and forget Santana."

She shrugged away from the van, folding her arms around herself and taking particular interest in her feet.

"But I should say I'm sorry." Santana frowned.

"And you have." Quinn shrugged. "The way I see it, you've made a decision. I had no right to judge you on it even if I think it's a terrible mistake…"

"Jeez thanks Q."

"But I'm not here to apologize. We aren't here to talk it out. This is a goodbye Santana. I'll call you sometimes when I'm drunk enough for us both to not be awkward and you'll come visit me to moan at how fat I'm getting when you come home for Christmas. But other than that we won't see each other for a while."

She stepped forward as Santana strangely felt tears welling up again.

"It's going to be weird though." She continued. "I've been with you at least six hours a day pretty much every day since kindergarten. We've been through a lot but we've been through it together…mostly."

They both laughed and Santana felt a tear spill over her cheek.

"So, good luck San." She pulled the raven haired beauty into a hug and Santana returned it full heartedly. She began to sob, not loudly or uncontrollably, but softly into the blonde's shoulder.

"And don't worry. I'll tell everyone you cried cause you're gonna miss our bitch fights. Who else will you take your frustration out on now huh?"

Santana let out a watery chuckle and leant back, kissing the blonde lightly on the forehead.

"I know we never do this. It's out of character and I'm really, really fucking uncomfortable right now Q. But I'm gonna miss you. I know it didn't need to be said but I did because I'm a reckless bad ass." She winked Quinn's protest away and whispered in her ear. "And I'll see to it we're both drunk when you call me, so it's not even half awkward."

"You're like one of those evil sisters, always evil, but always there." Quinn replied and they both laughed before pulling away from each other, leaving a few feet's breathing space. After countless years of friendship it had taken them all they had to be comfortable being that near each other for that amount of time. It was going to take them a while to even look at each other again without their ego's getting into fisticuffs again.

"So, I'll see you later." Quinn mumbled and walked away towards her car parked across the road.

"Bye Tubbers." Santana called and smiled when she got the finger in return.

"I'll wait in the car Brittany."

Quinn disappeared out of sight then behind the van and all Santana could do was stare at the floor.

"I still love you."

Santana's heart broke. Again. Again, again and again. Over and over.

"I still love you." She replied. The weird thing was, she had no tears for the girl, and her dark eyes were dry as she looked up into the blue ocean of serenity that were Brittany's own eyes.

"That's why I'm doing this. I want you to be happy."

Brittany nodded.

"I know. I would have been happier if we had tried the long distance thing…San." She trailed off and advanced but Santana stepped backward, unsure of whether it was her capacity for physical affection being overloaded or because of the guard on her heart rising up, most probably the latter.

"Britt I. Just." She was strangling herself.

"It's goodbye Santana, not farewell."

She blinked. At any moment of time Brittany could be all hazy and non sequitur, but really, right now?

"Uh…what?"

The blonde grinned at a familiar reaction.

"Goodbye is for when you're going to see someone again. When you're going on vacation, or won't see them for a while. Farewell is for when you're all sad and know you'll never see them again but pretend you will because you're going to miss them forever."

Santana sighed, knowing what Brittany meant but still not understanding the relevance. Goodbye was goodbye, either way the only time Santana would be seeing the girl again would be in her dreams…the dreams that already sunk her heart every night; that made her wake with tears on her pillow.

"This is goodbye San. Not farewell." The blonde repeated before pulling a ream of post-it notes out of the pocket of her leather jacket. She handed them to Santana and the darker girl looked at them.

"I don't understand."

Brittany took the first one and leant into the van, sticking it clearly in the middle of the steering wheel.

"It's like in Peter Pan. You know, where he thinks a thimble is a kiss?" Santana nods and Brittany continues. "Every one of those is a kiss, or a hug, or my hand to hold. On them are words that remind me of you and some that, you say, remind you of me."

Santana swallowed as Brittany smiled and pulled her into a hug.

The Latina just fell limp, lifeless. She held her breath so she wouldn't remember the smell, didn't hug back so she forgot what it was like to hold her in her arms. She was distancing herself from a girl that now had her cheek against her forehead.

Before long Brittany was gone and Santana heard a car horn.

The blonde sighed and smiled with a shrug.

"I better go." She turned and began to walk away before looking back over her shoulder. "Oh and Santana."

She turned to fully face her.

"Don't think I won't be calling. Quinn's pretty easily persuaded when she's drunk on Jack Daniels. I got your apartment number from her willingly. And I will know if it gets changed."

Santana's body shook with silent and bitter laughter as the blonde blew a kiss before lowering herself fluently into the escalade that was Quinn's.

She waved half-heartedly as the car pulled around the corner. She jumped into her van and dropped the post-it's on the seat next to her. She could still smell Brittany on her skin and feel her breath on her cheek as she turned to the steering wheel.

She almost gasped, fresh tears escaping silently from her eyes as she stared.

There on a pale pink post-it, scrawled in the infamous scribble that was Brittany's handwriting was the word: Home.

And once again, Santana wondered how Puck had even got halfway down the road without crashing from the tear-blurred vision.