A/N: No reviews.

I'm not telling you who helps Santana.

Yet.

"Here," A soft hand held out a tissue, "Take this...You're gonna need to freshen up your make-up too." The girl bends down, grabs Santana's purse and puts it on the edge of the sink. She opens it up and starts fumbling through it to find the cheerleader's compact, lipstick and eyeliner. The girl bends down to a squat so she's face to face with the awestruck Santana who has been sitting on the cold tile of the girls' bathroom with her back against the wall, crying for the better part of the day.

"Can you stand?" The girl spoke softly. "I put your make-up on the sink so you can compose yourself."

"I- I don't need your help."

"You may not want MY help, but you certainly need SOMEONE to help you, and since I happen to be the one who walked in on you like this, It's only fair that you let me help you."

The girl in front of her stood and held out her hand. "Come on, get up. Even if you decide to skip glee today, you can't spend all night in this disgusting bathroom. And on the floor!"

Santana used the tissue to wipe some of her tears and blow her nose. She let her journal fall to the floor, ignoring the noise it made and the fact that it had fallen face down with the pages open, probably wrinkled now. With a sniffle she looked up and couldn't understand why she was being so nice.

She grabbed the other girl's hand and used it to balance herself as she stood. Seeing herself in the mirror only made matters worse and she started crying again. She still had that pang in her chest from being heartbroken. The knot in her throat wouldn't go away. Santana leaned over the sink and began splashing cold water on her face. It was a wonderful sensation after how heated she had been from being upset. Tears still managed to seep out. She was handed some paper towels to dry her face.

"Thanks." She mumbled. She hadn't meant to mumble. It was just difficult to speak with a lump in your throat.

"Start getting yourself together. Do you want to go to glee club, or are you skipping today?"

The Latina didn't speak. She stared at herself in the mirror and began putting make-up on. Her bag and journal were still on the floor

"Here, I'll put your things on the sink over here and let you compose yourself. I have to go to glee today because we're brainstorming for prom songs and I have some ideas."

Santana still stood quietly. Once her make-up was a little better and her face looked less red, she turned to look at the girl that had came to help her.

"So? What's the decision?"

"Home." Santana paused "Now." She put her things in her bag and started walking toward the bathroom door. She turned to the other girl again and whispered "Thank you" one more time. Exiting the room and heading to her car, Santana left school that day with a heavy heart and a splitting headache.

The girl was left standing there by herself dumbfounded. There was a reason she came to the bathroom. It wasn't the first time she'd seen Santana cry. She wondered if the girl was drunk... though, she didn't smell any alcohol.

As she sat in the stall thinking about her song suggestions for prom she noticed a folded piece of paper on the floor near where Santana was sitting. When she was finished, she washed her hands, dried them, and picked up the paper. It only took her a second to decide whether or not to read it.

A/N: Shall I continue?