A/N: This whole writing two multi-chap stories at once and trying to work, study and move house may not have been my brightest idea…oh well, I did warn that I'd probably have no degree of regularity with this fic, so…it's short but it's an update. The next one will likely be longer. I really enjoyed writing this one though. There's a lot more freedom when you write a character drunk because drunk people do a lot of things they wouldn't normally do…Anyway…

Another visit…

-G-

"The hell?" Rachel muttered when she woke up enough to register that someone was leaning on the doorbell at 3am on Saturday morning. She heard muffled crying and realised that it must be Santana back again. Rachel bolted downstairs and stood on tiptoes to look through the peephole to make sure that it really was Santana before she opened the door.

"Oh Santana," Rachel sighed softly when she took in the sight of the other girl. "Honey what happened?" Santana's face was dirty and streaked with tears, her palms and knees were grass burned and she had a graze on her chin. Her dress was filthy and slightly ripped on one side.

"Iflellover," Rachel could barely figure out what Santana had just said. She was not drunk this time. She was absolutely train wrecked.

"You fell over?" Rachel verified. Santana nodded.

"Idranwaytoomush," Santana slurred, lurching forward and losing her balance. Rachel wasn't quick enough this time and Santana crashed onto the concrete porch, crying out when she landed on her sore hands and knees.

"Oh," Rachel sighed softly. "Santana," she said softly. She unexpectedly felt a lump rise in her throat as she looked down at the pathetic heap on the porch that was Santana. She was too drunk to even attempt to get back up. She just lay there on the ground, crying quietly. "Come on," Rachel said thickly, reaching down to haul Santana back onto her feet. Her knees were bleeding now and so was one of her elbows. Rachel managed to get Santana over to the couch and sit her down. She slouched to one side and stared straight ahead. "Stay here Santana, I'm going to get you some water and a first aid kit ok?" Santana nodded vaguely but Rachel could see she had no idea what was going on. Rachel grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, some aspirin, a cloth and a bowl of warm water and the first aid kit before heading back to the living room. "Ok sweetheart, drink some water while I fix you up," Rachel opened the bottle and handed it to Santana who only managed to spill most of it on her dress.

"Fuck," she mumbled absently before trying again and actually managing to get the water into her mouth this time. Rachel waited for her to have a few mouthfuls and then took the water away. She wrung out the cloth and gently wiped Santana's grubby face, until all of the dirt and her makeup was gone. She was as gentle as possible when she carefully cleaned the scrape on her chin but Santana still winced in pain. Rachel tried to be as quick and gentle as possible when she cleaned the rest of her scrapes but Santana was whimpering miserably when Rachel finished with her raw knees.

"I'm sorry, there's no way to do this without hurting you," Rachel apologised. "Here," she handed Santana two of the aspirin that she had brought with her.

"S'okay," Santana slurred, taking the pills and managing to get them and a mouthful of water into her mouth without incident.

"I'm going to put some antiseptic on them ok," Rachel told her as she put a rubber glove on.

"Kay," Santana visibly braced herself for the stinging she knew was coming. She hissed through her teeth when Rachel carefully applied the ointment to her scrapes.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry," Rachel chanted, trying to be as quick as possible.

"Ow," Santana whimpered when Rachel had finished. She stared at her miserably and it made Rachel's heartache. The poor girl was a mess and Rachel was really starting to worry about her now.

"I know," Rachel soothed. She taped some gauze over the scrapes on Santana's knees, palms and elbow but left the one on her chin uncovered. "There," she said when she was finished. "All done. I'm going to put this all away ok?" Santana nodded dejectedly. Rachel put all of the stuff away as quickly as she could and then ran upstairs to get a pillow and blankets from the spare room as well as some spare pajamas from her own room. When she got back downstairs, Santana was lying down on the couch.

"Why won' she be wi'me?" Santana whimpered drunkenly when she realised Rachel was back. "Sh'says sh'lovesme bu' sh'won' be my girlfriend." It took Rachel a few second to decipher that and when she did it all clicked into place in her head. Why won't she be with me? She says she loves me but she won't be my girlfriend. That was why she was at Rachel's and not at Brittany's. Brittany had turned her down again.

"I don't know honey. But getting drunk isn't helping is it?" Rachel asked. Sitting Santana up and reaching behind her to unzip her tight dress.

"No," Santana admitted. She made no attempt to take the clothes that Rachel was holding out to her and Rachel sighed. She pushed the strap of Santana's dress to the side and realised that she wasn't wearing a bra. She thought for a second and then slid the t-shirt over Santana's head, pushing her arms down when she tried to get them through the holes.

"Hang on," Rachel told her. "You may not care if I see your boobs right now but you'd kill me in the morning," she grumbled good-naturedly. Santana giggled and slurred something that sounded like 'probably'. Rachel slid her hands into the armholes of the shirt and pushed the straps of her dress down her arms as far as she could. Then she reached under the hem and pulled them down and over Santana's hands. "Now put your arms through," Rachel instructed. Santana did, with some difficulty, then looked down at herself before looking up at Rachel.

"Well done," she slurred, looking suitably impressed.

"Thank you," Rachel replied dryly. "You are wearing panties right?" she asked warily. Santana giggled and nearly fell off the couch.

"O'Course I am. M' not tha' mush of a slut," Santana told her, rolling her eyes.

"Fantastic," Rachel said sarcastically, hauling Santana to her feet and pushing her dress down over her hips with some difficulty given that Santana was apparently even more balance impaired than before. Once the dress was on the floor Rachel sat Santana back down and slid her legs into the flannel pajama pants she had brought down with her. She hauled her back up to pull them up over her hips and then sat the drunk girl back down again, panting slightly but satisfied that she had gotten pajamas on her without incident. She sat down beside her and Santana suddenly reverted back to her dejected, melancholy mood.

"Maybe sh'doesn' really love me," she said sadly, her eyes gazing into Rachel's.

"Honey I'm sure she does. But there's a lot of crap between you guys right now huh?" Rachel was intuitive when it came to other people's relationships and ever since the Landslide performance she had been watching the two cheerleaders, hoping that they would put aside their differences and get together. She had seen Santana running away from Brittany in tears in the hallway and guessed that Brittany had turned her down. But as far as she could tell they had found their way back to being friends but had gotten stuck there. She was surprised to find out that it was Brittany and not Santana who was stalling them.

"So mush shit. So fuckin comli…compi…complicated," Santana looked satisfied when she managed to get the tricky word out.

"Maybe you just need to let her have some space? Some time to figure out how she feels?" Rachel suggested.

"I jus' miss 'er so mush," Santana slurred, her voice trembling and her eyes welling up.

"I know. It must be hard to want to talk to your best friend but not be able to because it's about her," Rachel reached out and held her hand. Santana leaned into her, resting her head on her shoulder and going quiet and contemplative for a while.

"I jus' tol' you my secret," Santana said suddenly, lifting her head off of Rachel's shoulder. She stared at Rachel for a long moment. "Tha' wasn' so bad," she mused.

"That's good. And I'll keep your secret safe," Rachel promised, cringing when it sounded far cornier than she had thought it would. Santana's eyes were full of tears again and in a moment of impressive coordination for someone so drunk, she leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to Rachel's cheek.

"You're so lovely," Santana sighed fondly.

"Bed time Santana," Rachel said softly, blushing at the girl's affectionate words.

"Ok, I'll sleep 'ere," Santana lay down on the couch. "Too drunk fo' stairs," she informed Rachel.

"That's the plan," Rachel fought off a laugh at Santana's drunken observation. She ducked out to the kitchen to grab another water bottle, more aspirin and a bucket out of the cleaning cupboard in case Santana had to throw up. When she got back to the living room Santana was almost asleep. Rachel set the bucket beside her and the other stuff on the coffee table. She picked the blankets up and tucked them tightly around a drowsy Santana. She started to walk away.

"Can I have a goo'nigh' kiss?" Santana asked innocently. "Bri'nay always gives me a goo'nigh' kiss," she said imploringly. Rachel blushed and wrung her hands nervously, unconsciously backing up a few steps. She glanced at Santana and saw her pinched forehead and quivering lips; the telltale signs that she was about to burst into tears.

"Ok, ok," Rachel walked back over to the couch, not wanting to have to deal with a bawling Santana at 4am. "God I hope you're too drunk to remember this," she muttered before leaning down and pressing a quick kiss onto Santana's forehead. Santana smiled lazily and let out a contented sigh, snuggling deeper into the blankets.

"Thank you," she murmured happily. Rachel shook her head and moved to the doorway.

"Goodnight Santana," she called out as she switched the light off. She could already hear soft snores coming from the couch. She switched another light on in the next room, in case Santana woke while it was still dark and needed something, before heading up the stairs to bed sending up a silent prayer that Santana wouldn't remember most of this in the morning. She was too young to die, she thought.

-G-

Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed.