"Santana." She's crying as I pull away and head towards the stairs. "Santana!"

Judy swings out from the living room as I make my way down. "Is everything alright, girls?"

I look up at Quinn, tears streaming down her face, and then back to Judy. "I think you're going to be very proud of her, Judy. Yale couldn't possibly say no."

While Judy looks between us puzzled, I make my exit.

QSQSQSQSQSQSQS

Ms. Pilsbury leads a weird group therapy session with the whole club the next day, where each of them apologizes to Brittany, Sugar, Mercedes and me. I hate it. A part of me wonders if winning is worth this.

When Quinn's turn comes, Mr. Schue addresses the group. "Each of you is equally guilty of this, but Quinn needs to make her apologies alone. I'd like you all to know that while, the Troubletones have accepted your apologies, this is just the first step in the healing process and they may still have feelings of hurt and anger towards you."

They walk out hanging their heads and I have a vivid fantasy about taking off my shoes and throwing them into the crowd. I chew my lip and watch the clock instead.

Once they've all left the room, Mr. Schue sits down with us once more. "Quinn feels like it would be better if we weren't in the room for her apology so that you can speak freely, so we're going to be just outside the door." Mr. Schue seems wary of the idea, but Ms. Pilsbury nods and touches his arm to get him to finally stand up.

The door clicks shut and Quinn raises her eyes to the group. I find a scuff mark on the floor near my shoe and begin running my toe back and forth over it.

"What Mr. Schue told the group is only partially true. While I didn't come up with the idea, I went along with it and if I hadn't we wouldn't be sitting here today." Brittany and Sugar seem to be receptive to the start of the apology, while Mercedes keeps looking at the ends of her hair. "I know that this is particularly difficult because each of you considers me a friend and this isn't the way friends should treat each other. I have no excuse for my behavior. All I can offer you is my sincere regret and the smallest of hopes that one day I can repair the damage I've done."

Sugar looks at me as though my reaction will determine hers. Mercedes crosses her arms and rolls her eyes.

Brittany, however, looks thoughtful. "Why didn't you quit Glee?"

Quinn is jarred by the question. "Um, well, I was going to, but Ms. Pilsbury said that would be cowardly and it wouldn't change what I'd done. I know that words don't mean very much, so I wanted to show you that I'm sorry. That I won't run from this." Quinn scans our faces. "Would you like me to quit? I just want to do what's best."

"For you." I mumble under my breath.

Mercedes sucks her teeth . "You're not quitting."

Mercedes and I had spoken about the need for Quinn to remain in the group for us to win. I even got her to admit that, scheme or not, we wouldn't have beaten them at Sectionals. She looked at me a little strangely after I convinced her, but agreed nonetheless.

"Do you love her?" Only Brittany would ask such a thing. Unlike most people she doesn't think anyone should ever hide love. To her this question isn't private.

Mercedes looks uncomfortable and rises to leave, tapping Sugar, who wasn't planning on it, and forcing her to get up too. Sugar gives Quinn a weak smile as she walks past.

Mercedes stops in front of her briefly, sighing.

"God doesn't make us perfect, so I'm going to forgive you for this, but Quinn, don't ever take your friends for granted again. We aren't your stepping stones."

Quinn nods with cautious gratitude.

Brittany waves goodbye to the girls and then turns back to Quinn, waiting for her answer. I suddenly realize that there's no reason for me to be staying. Quinn has said her piece and this is Brittany's question, not mine.

Quinn is clearing her throat as I stand up.

"Wait, where are you going?"

I stop and do a half-turn. "I don't have any questions for you. Brittany deserves to hear this though. I'll leave."

The pained look on her face is something I would have given anything to wipe away less than a week ago. "You deserve to hear it too."

Brittany looks between us with open curiosity.

"I'd rather not. I'll see you both tomorrow." With that I make my way to the door.

"Santana?" I ignore her frustration.

QSQSQSQSQSQS

Rehearsals are only awkward for the first few days and then we fall back into old habits, working together like we always have. When Mercedes laughs at one of Puck's jokes, it's like a weight has been lifted for the entire group. I took what my mother said to heart about the things I'd done over the years and decided to forgive all of them. All except Quinn.

Quinn, who sits beside me now as we try to figure out which parts of each song will make it into the duet. Quinn is lead on Time After Time and I have Halo, but the songs will overlap and we haven't exactly found the sweet spot for that yet.

"Neither song really has much of a bridge, so I think we use, You said go slow, I fall behind, the second hand unwinds and you cut off the end of that with Hit me like a ray of sun-"

"That's going to throw off the timing for the whole song. We'll have done 3 verses in a row."

"Well, you haven't been offering any ideas, so I'm just trying to come up with something." Quinn looks like she wishes she could swallow the words back into her mouth. She hasn't taken issue with anything I've said or done since the apology, choosing to let me walk all over her repeatedly, rather than cause a stir.

"I just offered an idea, Q. The idea that your ideas suck." Tina and Puck look between us warily, before Tina takes a stab at cooling the issue.

"Why don't you shadow the chorus beneath Quinn's verse and then the timing won't be off? It could be quiet and then build up to overtake the song."

Puck still looks like he's waiting for an explosion.

I roll my eyes. "I suppose that could work."

Tina looks to Quinn, "Quinn, does that sound ok?"

"Why bother asking her, she's just going to agree. I could tell her that we're going to sing BINGO at the bridge and she'd just want to know which letters were hers."

Quinn chews her lip, annoyed. Puck tries to talk over me. "Why don't we sing it through and fix it as we go."

Tina starts the count off before I can say something else obnoxious, and I would have.

This is the only time I communicate with her and while I've been keeping up the pretense that we can get along professionally, I'm taking every opportunity I get to make her feel my wrath in these rehearsals.

As we're walking out I feel a tap on my shoulder. I know it's her, but I decide to stop anyway. Since we've barely left Glee, I'm sure it's one more chance to say something rude to her, professionally.

"I know what you're doing."

"What's that?" Sam and Mercedes, Artie and Blaine all breeze past us as fast as they can.

"Why don't we just have it out? You want to yell at me, smack me, kick me out of glee - Do whatever it takes."

"I'm fine, Quinn. It sounds like you're having trouble though. Why don't you check in with Ms. Pilsbury? My mandatory sessions with her have been really enriching."

"I'm sorry you have to go to those and I'm sorry you have to put up with seeing me, but Mr. Schue said this is what you wanted."

"I wouldn't use 'wanted', but surely you understand that my need to win is almost as strong as yours." I pause in exaggerated thought. "Actually, come to think of it, most of those Warblers aren't gay, Quinn. Are you sure you're doing enough for the group?"

She glares at me, her nostrils flaring.

"Hey, I'm just offering some ideas. You said I wasn't helping."

"No, you're being a bitch and I know that's what I deserve, but if this vendetta is going to ruin things for everyone, then I'm not sure what it is you're after."

"Ruin things? I thought today went well."

"Stop it."

I step closer to her, I'm sure she can feel my breath on her lips. "I'll stop," My gaze hardens. "When I want."

Her chin quivers and I'm not sure if it's anger or hurt, but either way I've hit my mark. I can feel her eyes on me as I walk away.

QSQSQSQSQSQSQSQS

"Santana, I know you want nothing to do with any of us, but please hear me out on this."

I continue shifting books in my locker as though Rachel isn't there.

"I know what she did was wrong, but do you really feel like torturing her day in and day out is the best way to handle this?"

"I don't know, Rachel. You guys are so much better at coming up with plans. How do you think I should handle it? Because here I thought I was being overly generous by not bad mouthing her to everyone I see; Keeping her in Glee club. Hell, I've even allowed the rumors that I broke us up to persist. But please, tell me, what more can I do to make Quinn feel better about faking a relationship with me?"

"She wasn't faking and you know it."

"I'm not having this conversation with you."

"You're not having conversations with anyone. Don't you see! This is hurting you as much as it's hurting her."

"Then it's well worth it."

"Santana, please, you're not-"

"Listening? No, I'm not." My voice is solid with anger. "You're lucky I didn't tell Schue to cancel Regionals, Berry. So do me a favor and mind your own business."

Brittany walks up as I close my locker, turning my back on Rachel and walking away with my ex.

"Sloppy Joes today. You wanna get something out of the vending machine?"

We turn the corner bypassing the cafeteria for the back hall where all the vending machines are lined up. I peruse the options while Brittany stares at me.

"You never asked me about what Quinn said that day."

God! Am I going to have to talk about Quinn with everyone?

"No, I didn't. What do you want?"

"Chips. I thought you would. You were so happy before you found out about all this stuff."

"That's kind of how it works when you realize someone has been lying to you for months, Britt."

I hand her a bag of Cool Ranch Doritos and put in another dollar for myself.

"But it wasn't all lies."

My bag gets stuck between the window and the side and I raise my hands in annoyance.

"I don't want to talk about this. And besides, you should be as mad as me. She broke us up, Britt. She lied to us."

"You lied to me."

I look at her briefly, ashamed, before taking out my frustration on the machine, banging loudly for my bag of chips but they won't shake loose. I give up and look her in the eye.

"It's not the same. I was lying to protect you."

"I don't think that's true, Santana. It is the same."

I start digging in my bag to find more money.

"Well, whatever. You're a better person than me and you can forgive. I can't."

"That's what your mom said."

I finally find a wrinkled dollar and start ironing it out on my knee.

"And what's with you talking to my mom?! Stop that! It's bad enough she's reading Jewfro's blog."

"She worries about you."

I put the dollar in and choose a 3 Musketeers.

"Yeah, well, I don't care what either of you think about this. Quinn and I are done."

"She said she loved you. That she still does."

I talk around a mouthful of candy bar. "I don't believe her and neither should you."

QSQSQSQSQSQSQS

We finish our first performances for the group and Schue asks Quinn and I to stay back after everyone leaves. I dread these kinds of interactions, since Mr. Schue is constantly scrutinizing me like I'm about to set the building on fire.

"Girls, I thought you sounded great today, but you were missing something. You had it when you performed 'Heaven Knows' and we need you to get it back."

I squint, "You're saying our chemistry is off?"

"Exactly, and with all that's happened that's understandable. I mean, you, Santana, you…" Mr. Schue gets frustrated trying to dance around my disdain for Quinn. "You may need to dig deeper than before. Find that thing that connects you even if it's hard." He looks at me directly.

"And what if we can't?" Quinn sounds like she's stating a fact more than asking a question.

"Honestly, I'm not sure we can win if you don't. The other two performances are solid, but this will be the one that sets us apart from all the other teams. I don't mean to put pressure on you, but the reason I asked you to do the duet was because I saw something in you that was special during Reunion week."

Mr. Schue clears his throat as our silence extends.

"Sue offered to help you straighten it out with her Conflict Resolution meetings, but I told her that I thought you two could do this on your own. Instead of coming to practice tomorrow, I thought you could spend some time away from McKinley."

I moan in disapproval on instinct and Schue looks at me with the threat of Coach Sylvester in his eyes, so I quickly straighten.

"I thought maybe dinner at Breadsticks would be a good idea." He hands us a gift certificate.

Quinn takes it, but scrunches her nose. "Didn't we give you this at the end of last year?"

"You did and I'm glad I still had it. I can't think of a better gift than a team working well together." He puts his arms around both our shoulders as we walk out of the auditorium.

"I know you've been through a lot, but you each said you would do what it takes and this is what it takes." He pats our backs and we're suddenly alone in the hallway together.

The moment he's out of earshot, I let the anger out that's been bubbling since he started talking.

"This is ridiculous. I can't believe I'm stuck going to dinner with you."

"Maybe if you didn't act like you hated me during a song about devotion, we wouldn't have to."

"I don't act, that's you. Besides, your moping is the problem."

"Well bickering isn't getting us anywhere. What time should I pick you up?"

"I'll drive myself."

Quinn sighs. "Fine, what time should we meet there?"

"Six. That should give me plenty of time to hang out with people I actually like afterward."

"Santana, if you're going to go into this dinner with that kind of attitude there's no point. We'll be worse than we already are."

"It's not my fault that it's like this. Don't forget that." I've been so good at keeping my voice level when we talk. It's disturbing to hear it quake with hurt.

It isn't lost on Quinn either. She reaches out her hand to grab mine and I move out of reach.

Quinn nods to herself, as though she should have expected that and she should have.

"Six." She walks away and this time I'm left to stare.

QSQSQSQSQSQSQS

I pull in at 6:08, my bass blaring through the parking lot. I casually hold the door open for an entire family, before making my way to the hostess.

Pausing to look around, I see Quinn seated at the back where we sat before. Pointing her out, the hostess allows me to make my way alone and I slide into the booth without saying hello.

"Glad you could make it."

"Don't start." I grab the napkin and put it on my lap before noticing that there's an Iced Tea beside it.

"I hope you don't mind. I figured you'd want one right away."

"Thanks."

I take a sip and lean back into the booth, hoping the waitress will come sooner than later.

"How was your day?"

"Fine." She chews her lip nervously at the one word answer and as much as I want to continue being a bitch, I feel like I should try, if only to placate Schue. "I got kicked out of Physics for telling Mr. Tankovski that his soul patch makes him look like a child molester."

"You didn't!" Quinn keeps laughing and then ponders the idea. "Yeah, he's kind of a creeper…"

"He needs to shave that shit off."

"Good evening, ladies. What can I get for you today?" I pick up the menu and start looking through it.

Something about having a normal conversation with Quinn has me unnerved. I know every single thing they serve here. I decide to go for an old favorite.

"I'll have the Fettuccine Alfredo."

I look to Quinn expectantly and she stares at me for a second too long before clearing her throat.

"Um, I'll take the French Onion soup and the Cobb Salad."

"I'll ring that right up for you." The waitress departs and we're left alone once more, but the mood has slipped back into our usual tension.

Quinn looks nice. She's wearing a blue dress that I haven't seen before and there's a bit more cleavage than I'm used to seeing. I can't help but notice.

"So, I wanted to thank you for coming." She meets my eyes.

"It's not like I had a choice."

She shrugs her shoulders. "I suppose not, but still."

"I want to win, Quinn, and if it means that you and I have to play nice then that's what I'll do."

"I don't think 'playing nice' is getting it. That's the whole point of this dinner."

"The point of this dinner is for you and I to get some free food, pretend to make amends, and win Regionals."

Quinn sighs and looks away, clearly disappointed.

"Did you think that we were actually going to get somewhere by coming back to the same restaurant, to the same booth where you started this whole charade, Quinn?! Did you really think that?"

She runs her hands through her hair. "Why can't we just start over?"

The question enrages me instantly.

"Because you fucked me, Quinn!"

My tone and vulgarity shock her.

"There's no starting over."

"Alright, for you, we've got the soup and salad, and the Fettuccine Alfredo for you." The waitress places our plates on the table and wipes her hands on her apron. "Did you need anything else? More tea?"

I turn to her, and faking normalcy like I have the last few weeks, I quickly change my whole demeanor. "No, thank you. This is perfect."

Quinn stares at a blank space on the tabletop, as the waitress leaves.

I start to eat, but Quinn continues to stare, like she's lost. I spin my fork in my fettuccine, wrapping it tightly before bringing it to my lips.

It bothers me. I hate that it bothers me.

"You'll be at Yale in 5 months. What's the difference?"

She just looks at me, still lost.

"I didn't do this. You did this." I sound like I'm explaining myself and I don't know why. She did do this. This is her fault. She should be explaining, not me, and yet I continue to fill the dead air.

"You can't expect me to forgive you. Would you forgive me?" I don't mean to ask it. I don't want to know the answer.

The fog in her eyes gathers quickly, and I'm expecting a clear, sharp voice, but it's soft and frayed, even as it rings just as true.

"Yes."

She stands and grabs her purse, pulling the gift certificate out quickly.

I drop my fork. "What are y-"

She places it on the table and pauses with her fingers resting on the creased paper. "I would forgive you anything."

It's a despondent confession, and somehow more intimate than one of love. I'm not sure what to do with it, but Quinn isn't anticipating a response. She taps the paper below her fingertips lightly and then walks away from me.

QSQSQSQSQSQSQSQS

I'm sitting in Glee club, apart from everyone as usual these days, but today it feels different.

Somehow guilt has settled deep in my chest and it only increases when Quinn walks in with her head down. This is fucking ridiculous.

Mr. Schue strolls in, all smiles. "Welcome back, ladies! I hope yesterday's break was helpful. We're going to run through the performances again today."

We sit through Berry's solo, 4 times, because she swears the guitarist is playing too fast. The group sings back up to Mercedes rendition of "When I Think Of You" and then it's our turn.

Mr. Schue leans forward in his seat.

I start us out, glancing Quinn's way briefly, before focusing on the audience. Quinn blends in right on time and we continue ebbing and flowing until we sing the end together.

The group applauds us unanimously, but Mr. Schue sits back into his chair and even in the darkness I can see the lines of concern on his face.

QSQSQSQSQSQSQSQS

"Let's do the B flat scale one more time." Rachel is losing her whole mind like she does before every performance. Finn tries to calm her as the rest of us take last glances in the mirror and shake out our nerves.

"Coming to the stage, the McKinley High New Directions!"

There's a pause and then Rachel steps out. I have to admit, after hearing her sing If You Could Read My Mind all week I'm starting to really like the song. I would never tell her that.

Mercedes and the rest of us move behind the curtain to wait for her to finish, taking the stage in a performance that has Mercedes wooing all the guys. I can't help but roll my eyes when I see her wink at Sam during his time dancing after her.

Quinn and I swing to the left and the right of the stage at the bridge and I can see her chest rise and fall as we try to catch our breaths. Mercedes sings the last part including fake laughter to the crowd and has them eating out of her hands. As the music changes to the piano in Halo, I move out from the shadows. I sing to the middle of the auditorium, like I did in rehearsals, seeking out a random face or two to zero in on.

When Quinn comes out, I can feel that she's not looking at the audience, but rather, at me. I take over the song eventually and it must look strange for me to be singing to the crowd when she is singing to me, so I angle more towards her.

She takes the opportunity to step closer as her verse begins and where I had room to look at her and the rapt audience before, now I can only see her. Our voices begin to blend as the songs merge and I can't ignore that it feels just like cheerleading Nationals. It's just me and her and the rest just falls away. Before I know it the song is over and the group is rushing out to hug us as we leave the stage once more.

Quinn looks past everyone to me and I quickly hug Sam to try to shake the feeling we had on stage.

Mr. Schue grabs us all in a group hug and rattles off his favorite moments, hitting Mike on the back for his flip, wringing his hands at Mercedes, giving Finn a high five. He looks between Quinn and I and his face is beaming with pride. "You found it! You finally found it!"

We don't look pleased though and his face falls as he looks between us again. Before he can say anything the announcer makes his way to the stage and everyone holds hands to await the results.

I press my palms weakly into Brittany and Puck's hands and it's the strangest sensation when they call our name.

Not excitement. Not relief.

Fear.