A/N: Um…I have become what I always said I'd never be. A writer who goes forever without updating! Sigh. Stone me. No not really. But I struggled. And I'm low-key insecurr about this CH. I think it's just okay. But it's all I got for now. So let's be nice guys :)


When Rachel came to, she found that she was stationary, no longer were arms carrying her bleeding body. She blinked once, twice, allowing the white ceiling above her to come into focus. Her body felt sluggish, and stiff, but nowhere near as pained as it had felt earlier. Earlier. Did earlier actually happen? Was she seriously attacked by coyotes, comforted by Britt's panther, and then carried by Santana? Because that's just….

She looked down and saw that her body was buried beneath a thick black blanket. Definitely not mine, she thought to herself. Mind still too tired to have a full on panic about being in a bed that she didn't recognize, she tried pushing herself into a sitting position. Only when she groaned after applying pressure to her right arm that all but buckled did her breathing become labored as the freak-out set in.

"Finally," a sleepy voice murmured, causing her to whip her head in the direction of the sound. A very slow moving Santana was rising from a desk chair as she carefully extended her arms and body for a thorough stretch. Rachel heard a few bones popping, and couldn't help but wonder just how long the girl had been seated there.

"It's about time you got your ass up," the Latina sniped, hoping to conceal her nerves. She started making her way towards Rachel but paused when she saw the confusion and fear in the other girl's eyes.

"Santana…wha?" The brunette started, but couldn't seem to formulate her words. Her mind was racing and her mouth couldn't seem to keep up. The only thing she seemed to remember to know how to do was cry. She didn't mean to, and she tried really hard not to, but she was afraid. And in pain. And she was basically at the mercy of a girl who admittedly hated her guts. So her body's first response was tears.

Santana sighed, not at all liking the smaller girl's response to her. Literally. Her body physically tensed at Rachel's reaction.

"Could you like, not do that?" Even through the tears, Rachel's brows furrowed in question. "That thing with your eyes," Santana specified. "You know, where water leaks from them."

Rachel's head shook as she spoke, words barely audible. "I'm sorry, I just- I don't know what's going on and I'm afraid, and you-"

"I what?" Santana asked with slight caution.

"You hate me," Rachel finished, wiping her damp eyes with her good hand.

This caused the Latina to sigh.

"I don't hate you."

"No. You just go out of your way to make my life hell," the brunette mumbled.

They were silent for a while, with the quiet only being broken when Rachel winced as she tried once again to sit up.

Santana's feet moved before her mind did. She found her arms wrapped securely around Rachel, steadying her. Rachel, of course, had stopped moving, and basically stopped breathing and could only blink.

"What?" Santana grumbled.

Rachel blinked again. Only when she looked down at Santana's hands on her body did the Latina understand.

"Don't look at me like that, midget. I just didn't want you to wake my parents. So if I have to help you sit up so you don't cry out in pain, then I will."

Rachel just nodded dumbly, and allowed the girl's strong arms to pull her up until she was sitting with her back against the headboard.

"Thank you," she whispered softly, receiving a disinterested grunt in return. Santana then resumed her spot back on the other side of the room, arms crossed, as she looked everywhere but at the girl in her bed. Her foot tapped repeatedly on the wooden floor, creating the only noise between the two.

"Santana, what's going on?" Rachel finally asked when the reality of not knowing became too much for her. "Why am I here? And not in my own home? Or better yet, a hospital?"

Santana could only exhale deeply, having already expected this conversation. Still, before she got into any explanations, she needed to know a few things herself. "Okay, so how much do you remember?"

"Well," the brunette started slowly, "I remember walking home from school with you. I remember yelling at you and you storming off." Santana bit her lip but remained silent. "I then stumbled upon a group of questionable looking men and they circled me."

At this revelation, the other girl's foot ceased and her brows wrinkled.

"How many were there?"

"Three," Rachel replied. Santana nodded to herself, mentally piecing together a puzzle invisible to Rachel.

The next question came out a bit more hesitant. "And then what happened?"

The brunette's face paled as she recalled what came next. "And then these vicious doglike animals came, from out of nowhere!" She expected Santana to gasp aloud in shock at this point, because come on, how often do you hear of someone attacked by a pack of dogs in the city. But when she looked up into her face, the other girl was expressionless, only nodding for her to continue.

"One minute I was walking, and the next I was running for my life!" The Latina still didn't react.

"One of them latched onto my arm and flung me to the ground like I was a rag doll. They were massive and more feral than any domesticated dog I've ever seen!" Despite how expressive she was in retelling the night's events, Santana remained unfazed.

"The last thing I remember is one jumping onto my back, hitting my head, and then blacking out."

"And that's all?"

"Well, I don't actually think this is a memory, perhaps a dream or hallucination instead; I did hit my head quite hard after all, but for some reason Brittany's panther was there. And before you laugh or call me crazy, your best friend does in fact live with a wild cat. And-"

"I know." Santana said, cutting her off.

"You do?" Rachel asked incredulously. "Because the last time I mentioned it, you didn't take me seriously."

"Yea, I know," the darker haired girl replied. "We'll get into that later. Just, continue. What happened after that?"

Although the brunette wanted to press the issue of the panther further, she didn't. "Well, I guess I blacked out again. It felt like just a few seconds, but maybe it was longer because the panther was gone and you were there instead. Carrying me. And then I woke up here." The taller girl nodded slowly, but remained quiet.

Rachel eyed Santana suspiciously. "You're unusually calm…about all of this."

"Not everyone is as dramatic as you, Berry. Besides, you're obviously okay now so…" the Latina trailed off, shrugging.

Rachel's mouth hung open in disbelief as she witnessed the girl's nonchalance. "Yea, I'm obviously okay, I just was almost ripped to shreds. But I'm okay." She turned to glare at the tanned girl. "Santana, I almost died! And you're just sitting there! Like you couldn't care less." Her own eyes widened as the gravity of her words sunk in. At once, all the breath seemed to leave her body. "I almost died…"

"But you didn't."

"Yea, no thanks to you!"

Santana felt her face heating up as her own anger rose. Rachel was staring at her intensely enough to notice the sharp change in her irises from dark brown to a dark gray. The brunette gasped and narrowed her eyes to focus her vision. Maybe it was the lighting…

"No thanks to me?" Santana hissed. "It's because of me that your ass is sitting here right now!"

"So you found me bleeding out on the pavement, someone get this girl a congressional medal of honor!" Rachel knew she should've been more grateful to Santana. The girl technically did save her even if all she did was carry her to safety. But her emotions were getting the better of her. She was in pain; she was scared; she was confused; and she was angry. Why is it that Santana was always the one saving her? What was the universe trying to prove?

Feeling herself getting worked up, Santana stood up and made towards her door. She needed to get away and fast.

"I thought we agreed that next time you wouldn't save me?" Rachel whispered. And had it been anyone else listening, she wouldn't have been heard. But it was Santana, and she distinctively made out each syllable passing through the smaller girl's lips. She stopped harshly on her heels.

"You wanna know why? Why I saved you. And why I keep saving you?" With Santana's back to her, Rachel couldn't see her face. But she heard clearly the voice that sounded so strained, like it was hard to speak. The fuming girl turned around slowly and stared at Rachel. The brunette gasped sharply at the now crystal gray eyes that bore into her. And she was sure the lighting had nothing to do with it. And then her focus was brought to Santana's mouth as she continued.

"Because I can't not save you." Where blunted incisors should've been rose large fangs.

Rachel's mouth open and closed repeatedly, but nothing outside of a squeak came from her. Santana knew how she looked. Whenever she became emotional about something, her body changed into the beginning stages of shifting. Her eyes were always the first to change, and then her teeth. And if she got too worked up, she'd transform entirely.

"Oh my Streisand, Santana you're a… vampire."

The Latina was so taken aback by Rachel's statement –and the oddly level tone with which she spoke—that it was her turn to squeak.

"What?" she managed as her face scrunched, anger instantly melting.

"I always knew they existed," Rachel continued, almost excitedly as she stared down at her lap, seemingly conversing with herself. "Humans are so arrogant to believe they're the only intelligent life forms in this dimension. But I knew it. I knew other humanoid creatures walked among us. Tina of course was merely impersonating your kind. Clearly a real vampire wouldn't be so obvious. I should've known it was you all along. You're so dark. And cold. And…"

As the small girl rambled, Santana just stared at her, completely lost for words. Because a vampire…really? Sure the fangs and freaky eyes maybe hinted at the nightwalkers…but no.

"A vampire?" Santana scoffed, unmistakably offended and having finally found her voice again. "I'm not a fucking blood sucker."

Rachel managed to hear the other girl over her own long-windedness and looked up at her confusedly.

"You're not?" She asked dejectedly. "But your teeth and your eyes…"

"Vampires are not the only ones with fangs, Berry. Clearly you should know that, considering you had a pair lodged into your arm not too long ago."

"But your teeth…and your eyes," the brunette repeated, not quite grasping, causing the taller girl to roll her eyes. "What else explains that?"

Not having the words, or the patience, Santana decided it best to show rather than tell. Oh boy, she thought. Might as well get this over with…

Following her quick disclaimer of, "Don't freak out. And fuck, do not scream," she then, clenched her eyes tight as she released all her inhibitions and allowed her body to transition into its animalistic form. She felt her shorts rip as her body grew, and cursed internally; she had gotten those from Victoria's Secret. When she was finished, a sable 200+ pound cat stood in her place, staring intently at the brown eyes that had yet to blink.

Unable to speak, she could only wait and watch for Rachel's reaction. As the seconds passed, the brunette remained speechless. When the sheets eventually rustled, the panther's ears perked as she listened for some kind of response. Instead, Rachel slid back down into the bed, pulled the sheets up to her neck and closed her eyes.

"This is not real," she told herself. "This isn't happening. I'm clearly still unconscious."

Oh come on, Santana thought to herself, feeling frustrated. She wanted Rachel to look at her again, but she couldn't very well just say that, no longer being human and all. So she neared the bed, and when she was inches away, she debated on her next move. She could roar, and scare the piss out of her. It'd be hilarious, but probably not the most conducive to their situation.

Choosing the more benevolent approach, she nudged her leathery nose against the brunette's cheek. Rachel's eyes squeezed tighter in response and her knuckles clutched the top of the blanket tightly enough to turn them white. Still, she didn't acknowledge the animal.

Her eyes finally popped open when a long wet tongue slid its way up the side of her face, leaving a sticky trail behind.

"Eeeeek!" Rachel screamed as she wiped the side of her face and turned to glare at the animal. Santana smirked, or, she did in her head anyway.

The brunette recognized those mischievous gray eyes anywhere.

"This really is happening," she muttered.


Side note: Obviously Rachel's unaware that Santana was the one that went all ninja on those dogs. And what the crap does "I can't NOT save you" mean exactly? In due time grasshoppers. In due time. Lastly, panther San's (hmm, SANther?) weight is inconsistent (200? 300? eh). I'ma get it together one of these days, yo.