Trudging into detention the following Tuesday, Rachel didn't know what to expect. Santana hadn't come back after walking away, even if Rachel had been able to hear her voice echoing through the halls as if she'd been conscripted to other parts of the school. And then, on Monday, for some reason, the girl had been conspicuously absent or busy during the classes they had together. During glee, even, the girl had been wrapped up in her Cheerio jacket and pants, gazing at the whiteboard when not lobbing insults at Rory or Sugar. Sitting to her left and a row forward, in between Quinn and Sam, Rachel had watched her out of the corner of her eye.

She'd… Well. She'd expected some kind of slushy attack that day. Or some sort of cutting remark hissed at her as one-third of the Unholy Trinity marched past her in the halls.

But… It hadn't happened.

Rachel found herself very concerned.

Keeping her head up, hands wrapped around the straps of her backpack (having decided using the wheels while the school was still fairly dirty due to the impromptu sprinkler deluge was an ill-thought idea), Rachel's heart stuttered when she realized Santana wasn't in the room.

That didn't make sense. Santana was always there first, dashing to the locker room to change into her civilian clothes after glee whilst Rachel stayed behind to cajole and debate - not beg - Mr. Schuester to change their tentative setlist.

She stared at the bare room, only moving when a nondescript boy from one of her classes shouldered by her, pushing her out of the doorway.

Santana wasn't there?

She walked into the room almost cautiously, sitting herself down at the nearest desk but unable to really comprehend what was happening. A part of her said that she should be relieved.

No insults, no rude nicknames, no threats or… whatever it was that had happened the other day. Just her and her homework for the next hour and a half. Time would fly and she'd be home and happy.

But there was a twist in the girl's stomach, and she realized that she felt… not lonely, that was absurd, but… alone?

With a sigh, glancing at the clock and realizing that already ten minutes had passed, she finally took out her Chemistry book. Just as she was opening up to the assignment page, though,

"Mami, I said no. Just- Look, I- I can't. She… She doesn't want me there, trust me."

Rachel's head shot up, and she stretched across her desk, managing to catch sight of Santana's Cheerios jacket just outside the door frame. There was silence for a couple of minutes again, then,

"Mami, please."

And this time Rachel was absolutely sure that she had just heard Santana's voice crack. The sound made her heart clench, and the singer quickly realized she probably wasn't supposed to be hearing the conversation at all.

There was something that sounded distinctly like a sniffle, or maybe even a muffled, swallowed down sob, followed by Santana speaking roughly in Spanish. All Rachel managed to catch was 'I love you' and 'Goodbye', and quickly she hurried to look like she was completely transfixed by her homework.

Not a minute later Santana walked in, moving past Rachel without a single word and sitting down heavily in a seat behind her.

Rachel swore she could feel eyes burning into her back, but she hesitated to speak, couldn't even get her pencil to move on the notebook she had opened up to begin the assignment.

"Stop pretending you weren't being a fucking nosy-ass nerd," Santana said sharply, but her voice seemed… weaker. The suddenness still made Rachel jump, though, and the smaller girl cleared her throat.

"I- I apologize- I didn't-" She took a breath, biting her lip. "Um… Do you…"

"No."

Rachel whipped back around from where she was half-turned towards the other girl to stare down at her notebook. Minutes passed again, and she slowly slid back around. "I, while I didn't mean to l-listen in…" Out of the corner of her eye, Santana clenched her jaw, and Rachel hurried to finish before those reddened eyes glared fully at her, "You sure you don't want to talk about - "

Strong fingers wrapped around a third of Rachel's hair, pulling sharply.

Rachel slapped her hands against her scalp, trying to guard against further attacks. "Ow!"

"Shut. Up." Giving a warning tug, Santana dropped her hand, sitting up enough to lean toward Rachel, arms braced on the desk, "And make like your freaky cousins, the Fraggles. Keep. To. Yourself. No one wants anything to do with you, freaky puffy-nippled giants aside. Learn to deal with it."

Massaging her scalp, glaring at Santana, Rachel planted her feet on the ground, scooting her chair and desk forward. Ignoring the looks she was getting, and happy that the detention teacher wasn't in sight, she stopped only when she figured Santana couldn't reach her. "Far be it for me," she sniffed, pitching her voice loud enough that Santana could still hear her, angling her head down, "To want to comfort a fellow glee club member."

An almost inaudible snort met her ears. But when Santana didn't say more, and Rachel didn't chance a look back, she somehow managed to turn her attention back to her Chemistry homework.

Five minutes later, an eraser impacted the back of her head.

Rachel ignored it, taking a calming breath.

Less than two minutes passed before a pen hit between her shoulders blades. Followed by another one, and then several bits of paper, all of which ended up in her hair. Frustration finally got the best of Rachel, and she turned around just as another eraser came flying towards her.

It smacked her square in the nose and she whimpered, covering the spot reflexively.

"Whoops," was Santana's only response, and the smaller girl was too busy checking to make sure that hard rubber hadn't done any damage to see the flicker of regret pass over the cheerleader's face. It was gone as soon as Rachel locked eyes with her, instead back to her scowling, defensive expression.

"Is there something you want?" Rachel asked, trying to keep her tone level.

"Nope," Santana answered, lips making a popping sound around the word.

"Because my offer still stands to - "

"Finish that sentence and the next thing to hit your schnozz will be hella heavier than my eraser."

"I'm just trying to - "

"Last warning, Fraggelette."

With a heavy sigh, Rachel relented again. She turned to her homework after a few more moments of staring at one another - or more like Santana glaring at her - and attempted to focus on conversions.

But she could barely concentrate, too caught up in anticipating another office supply thrown at her. Indeed, almost as soon as she finally gave in, setting her pencil point back down against her notebook, a crumpled up piece of paper bounced against her elbow. Sucking in an irritated breath, Rachel shook her elbow, and finished up problem #10.

She had to shake her elbow again when another crumpled piece of paper landed onto the desk next to her. Santana…

She could hear Santana tearing another page out of her notebook. Really? Really? Already seething, as soon as the paper hit her shoulder, she snapped around, Santana's name poised on her tongue. But as soon as, "Santana Lopez!" passed her lips, Holly Holliday's voice sounded from right above her.

"Rachel Berry," Holly drawled, giving her an unimpressed look when she froze, terror slashing through her before she turned back around, "It looks like you're asking for another detention, yes?"

Rachel's mouth dropped open. "What? Ms. Holliday. It was Santana. She - "

Santana snickered behind her.

"She," Rachel continued in panic, waving her hands around, "Was throwing things at me!"

Ms. Holliday raised her eyebrow, glancing at all the various things on the floor around Rachel, then back to a not-so-innocent looking Santana. Still, she tsked. "I'm sure Principal Figgins will be glad to know that he'll have a worker bee free tomorrow afternoon," she said, already scribbling out the detention slip.

Rachel's face fell dramatically, mouth agape and eyes shining with possible tears. "B-but- But I- Ms. Holliday - "

"Looking for an extra-extra day, Rachel?"

Snapping her mouth shut and looking back down to her desk, Rachel let out a frustrated sigh, shaking her head, not trusting her voice in that moment. Behind her she could hear Santana's barely controlled snickers, and the final 30 minutes of the detention passed fairly quietly, save for Santana excusing herself to use the restroom.

At the end of their time, Ms. Holliday stood, making her way to the door. There, she paused, looking back to Santana. "Oh, and Ms. Lopez, enjoy your detention tomorrow as well." Before Santana could even get out an indignant sputter, the older woman was gone. Rachel hurried out seconds after, not wanting to get caught in the repercussions, and Santana was left alone fuming.

It wasn't until she got home that evening, grumbling and tossing her books out of her bag to finally do the homework she had ended up ignoring in favor of terrorizing Rachel Berry that Santana noticed a folded slip of paper she hadn't put in there.

Curiosity won out, and she grabbed it, opening it up. She nearly shredded it the moment she saw who it was from, but the words caught her eye and she found herself reading the short couple of sentences.

Santana,

I know that you would generally rather speak to anyone who was not me, but, just in case you want someone outside of your usual circles and who that, in a way, perhaps could sympathize or at least direct you to those who could, I'm here. And I promise to not speak unless asked to, only listen.

Sincerely, Rachel Barbra Berry *

There was a gold star sticker at the end of the girl's name, and Santana rolled her eyes, scoffing, her hands almost shaking with the want to crumple up the stupid note and throw it in the trash where it belonged.

Instead she found herself reading it again, then a third time, and finally, sighing in irritation at herself, she threw it onto her desk, covering it up stubbornly with her books and refusing to acknowledge it for the rest of the night.

"Fucking goody-goody…" the Cheerio grumbled. "Fucking too-good-for-her-own-good Rachel fucking Barbra fucking Berry."