A/N: As always, big thanks for the reviews. Be prepared for an emotional roller coaster this chapter, and hopefully the first non-depressing chapter ending ever.

I don't remember how I made it home from that party, but I woke up the next day in my bed, my clothes still on and wearing only one shoe. Santana had called three times while I'd slept. When I called her back, I claimed illness, and she didn't question me.

"You sound like shit, B," she said through the phone, concern laced in her voice. "Want me to come over when I get back?"

"No," I told her, burying my face in my pillow and curling into a ball. "It's just a bug, I'll be fine tomorrow. I just need sleep." The very last thing I wanted at that point was to see her, after the confusion of the night before. I needed to be alone.

"Okay, if you're sure," she replied and I could hear her shrugging. "I'll talk to you tomorrow?"

I nodded, even though she couldn't see the gesture. "Tomorrow. Bye, San."

When she called again, we made arrangements to meet outside the school the following morning, on our first day as sophomores. As anxious as I was to ensure that she never find out about my night at the party, I was more anxious to see her, and reassure myself that there was nothing wrong; I wasn't drowning. I had decided to try the day without my usual four, and cut back to my prescribed single pill that morning. I expected two more at lunch from the nurse's station, but just in case, I had shoved my spare bottle in the bottom of my book bag, covered by the usual paraphernalia of dried up pens and last year's unfinished homework.

She was on the steps in the courtyard overlooking the tables when I arrived. I was ten minutes later than I had promised her I'd be, but she wasn't angry as I climbed to the third step, where she sat in her Cheerios uniform. Her smile was so effectively genuine that I wrapped my arms around her shoulders and held her when she stood to greet me. No one was around yet, so she pressed her face into the fateful crook that she loved so much when she hugged me back.

"I've missed you," she whispered into my throat, not letting go of her vice grip around my waist. "You can't do that to me again. I need you, B. Not having my best friend around is just painful."

I sighed heavily and returned the hold as tightly as I could. The pressure around my rib cage sent a flurry of endorphins through my body, and I was instantly happy. She hadn't mentioned the party, so as far as I knew, Mike had kept his word. "I missed you, too. I need you, too. But this feels good, doesn't it? Two best friends, coming back together. It's... it's easy."

She lifted her head off my shoulder and even without looking at me, I knew the expression that crossed her face was skeptical. 'Easy' was probably not the term I should have used, but I wanted her to know that I wasn't going to push her anymore. Being best friends could be easy, just like being with Puck was easy for her. It was as much for my benefit as it was for hers. I needed reassurance, and she didn't know it, so I said it out loud for both of us.

And if I ever lost my grip on that, there was always the pills.

"Right," she finally replied, easing her grip on my waist. "Easy." She took a step back and smiled again, but it wasn't quite the same genuine smile that had crossed her face when I'd first arrived. "Let's get our schedules so we can complain about them now. It'll be faster to switch them so we're taking all the same things if we get there early."

She turned to go up the rest of the stairs, but I didn't follow right away. I just enjoyed watching her walk, studying the way the Cheerios skirt ended at just the right spot on her thigh. She stopped and looked back, that smile returning; the genuine one. She extended her left hand and stuck out her pinky, beckoning me to take it. My eyes shifted from the skirt to her finger, then with a matching smile I met her eyes. I took the pinky in mine and together we entered McKinley for the first time as sophomores.

I held my breath as she wrote my schedule on my wrist, after transferring from a few of my lower-level classes into her advanced classes turned out to be impossible. She had even offered to take the remedial courses with me, but Figgins had pulled Ms. Pillsbury into our meeting, and between the two of them they talked Santana down. She was on the fast-track to college, they stated. Why would she want to jeopardize her future by taking courses that were too easy for her? I pretended not to understand that they were talking down to me when they assured me that Santana wasn't abandoning me for the more advanced classes. She was at a different place in her academic career, she needed a different kind of teaching than I did, et cetera, so on and so forth. She vocalized the hurt that I felt, shouting at Figgins about his tone before grabbing my hand and pulling me out of his office.

"Forget them," she said, the tip of her pen pressing lightly against my skin as she wrote out English - Room 213 - First Bell, Spanish - Room 104 - Second Bell... one on top of the other. "They don't know what they're talking about. You and I both know you're smarter than half this school. But look, at least we have four classes together. That's better than nothing, right?"

I was too busy watching the strokes of black ink over the blue lines of the veins in my wrist to really pay attention. I had a sudden sharp need to pound a few pills. I had grown accustomed to being Half In when she took my hand like this, but now, after a few months of taking triple my dose, I was far from Half In. I felt everything. The ridges of her fingerprints burned me. The soft brush of her sleeve cut my skin. I wanted to pull away, but I stayed, gulping audibly.

"You okay?"

"Huh?"

"I asked if you were okay," she said, letting go of my hand and I started breathing again. "You look terrified, B. Don't worry. It's just a new schedule. We have second period together, so I'll see you again in an hour. Okay?"

I nodded, giving her a shaky smile. "Okay."

I wasn't okay. We parted ways at our new lockers, she on her way to trigonometry while I headed to remedial tenth grade English. As soon as she rounded the corner and was out of sight I ripped my bag open and found the bottle at the bottom. I slid two pills under my tongue and went to the drinking fountain, sighing heavily as the cool water slipped them down my throat with ease. I waited two minutes for the high dose to kick in, and the edges of my world went fuzzy. It was easy to smile when the world looked like that, all hazy and unclear, like looking through foggy glass. The way the windows look in winter, when the heat from the interior of the house clashes with the cold exterior of the panes, making them steam and become translucent. Every day was Christmas in that world. Or so I told myself, as a sort-of justification.

I saw Santana during second, third, fifth and seventh periods, and I managed to make it through the day without forgetting where to go. I even kept my backpack with me along the way, never leaving it in a classroom, the bathroom, or under a lunch table. At the end of the day she walked me home, even though it was a mile out of her way and Puck had offered to drive her, and stayed to get me oriented to the new class schedule and homework docket.

"Things'll be easier tomorrow," she told me as she packed up her things. "See you in the morning, same place as today? Maybe not quite so early."

I nodded and got up to walk her out. She pulled my front door open and started out onto the porch when I stopped her.

"San..."

She turned to look at me, pulling her coat closer around her chest in the cool September evening. "Yeah, B?"

"Today was alright. I was alright. You don't need to worry about me so much." I wasn't quite sure where it came from, but my gut spat the words out before my head had a chance to process.

She took a step back to me, pulling me into a quick hug. "I'll always worry about you, B. What are best friends for?" She let me go and with a smile she left.

During school hours, things returned quickly to the way they had been the previous year. Santana mocked Rachel mercilessly, and Quinn's queen bee routine took a turn for the dramatic when Finn unexpectedly joined the glee club with her nemesis. This sent Quinn into a tailspin of jealousy that even I couldn't rival. She did what she could, silently and behind Rachel's back, to ensure that every slushie to enter McKinley ended up in Rachel's face, but this didn't deter the tiny diva from pursuing Finn as the Fred to her Ginger. Quinn made an executive decision for the three of us: she, Santana and I would join the glee club too, if only to protect her reputation as half of the hottest couple in school. Because we were Quinn's back up, Santana and I were meant to assist in all her endeavors. I hadn't argued very much with any of the ridiculous missions we had been sent on in the past, but when we got together to prepare for our audition, Quinn seemed more out of her element than I'd ever seen her. Her confidence was waning in the face of what she perceived to be legitimate competition.

I wasn't complaining about joining the club. I'd been at the school assembly where they'd performed and it was a great show. I'd stopped singing in public a long time ago because Santana had asked me to. But now, on Quinn's order, I was being asked to start again. I couldn't really argue with that. We asked permission from Sue, and received marching orders to take apart the club at the seams. I listened, high-fived Santana when she got a little thrill out of the idea, but I didn't really think glee club was hurting anyone. Frankly, it sounded like more fun than slaving for Sue Sylvester. Still, Cheerios was a bigger priority than singing and dancing, so I did as I was told.

Even though Santana and I now had two extra curricular activities together, in addition to our classes, we rarely had time to sit down and talk like friends. She buddied up to Quinn more so than the year before, and didn't bother to tell me when she broke up with Puck a few weeks into the school year. I heard about it from another Cheerio, who gossiped uncontrollably while she and I held up the bottom of the pyramid.

"You broke up with Puck?" I asked her after practice, on our usual walk back to my house.

"Yeah, I guess," she shrugged, her face suddenly growing dark. "It's not a big deal."

"It's a huge deal, Santana," I replied, adjusting the backpack on my shoulder as we walked up my driveway. It suddenly felt twenty pounds heavier. "This is the guy you said it was easy to be with. What happened? Things get complicated?"

She shook her head. "It's not important why, B. He wasn't the right person for me, so I ended it."

"Sometimes it really amazes me how quickly you slip in and out of 'bitch' mode, San," I said without thinking. "You burn hot and cold faster than anyone I've ever met. Boredom isn't an excuse to fuck with someone else's life." She and I both knew that I wasn't really talking about Puck.

She stopped in the middle of my front yard, her arms hanging limply at her sides and her mouth slightly agape. "That's what you think this is about? I got bored or something and now I'm looking for the next shiny mohawk to attract my attention?"

"What else could it be?" I responded, turning on my heel with my arms crossed over my chest. "He treats you like garbage and you let him keep coming back for more. I'd be bored with that, too."

"He doesn't treat me like-"

"Yes, he does," I interrupted her. "He's slept with nearly every girl in our grade - and their mothers - and you're the only one who keeps letting him back into your bed, expecting things to change."

She shook her head slowly, sighing. "Things were never going to change with Puck, and I knew that. He's the same jerk who laughed at you in the lunch room when we were twelve."

"Then why did you stay with him so long? And don't you dare tell me 'because it was easy', Santana. I might vomit." I blanched, my tongue hanging out of my mouth in mock disgust.

"It felt good, I guess," she shrugged. "Knowing I had someone like him. We spent so much time at the bottom, B. With him I'm on top."

"More of that social status bullshit," I said, rolling my eyes. "You know I never cared about any of that."

"That's because I cared enough for the both of us. How do you think you make it through every day last year without being tossed in a dumpster? You're not exactly the brightest kid in school, and it doesn't take much for these people to turn on you. It's because I got us where we are, and I've protected you. If we weren't Cheerios, if I hadn't dated Puck, we'd still be getting laughed out of the lunch room. I did what I could to keep you safe. And I'll keep doing it, as long as I'm able."

I stood in silence under a flickering street lamp, watching the orange horizon lighting Santana up from behind. "I didn't ask you to do that," I said after a moment. I didn't know what else to say.

"No," she sighed. "You wouldn't, would you? But I'm your best friend and it's my job to protect you."

"If part of protecting me was dating Puck, then why'd you break up with him? You've been so selfless-" here I emphasized selfless with a sharp, bitter tongue - "up until now. So why the change of heart?"

"I heard him saying things that I didn't like," she said, stiffening. "It's one thing to let him run around on me, but this... I was just done."

"After all the cheating, what could he possibly have said that would make such a difference?"

Her eyes darkened and she looked away. "He... he was talking shit about you. He was spreading lies, and I wasn't going to stand by and let him."

I furrowed my brow and took a step closer. I hadn't realized how far apart we were standing until now. We'd practically been shouting at one another in the middle of my yard. She still didn't look at me as I reached out and put my hand on her arm, squeezing just above her elbow. "What... what was he saying?"

"He was talking to Matt..."

Oh god.

"...who was saying that he'd made out with you, and you'd let him touch you..."

The party.

"... and Puck laughed, and said that Mike Chang had gotten further than just touching..."

No. No, no, no.

"...and that one of the freshman Cheerios on the squad had kissed you too. They were talking about the end of summer party. I knew it couldn't be true, because you would never have done any of that garbage. And you hadn't even heard about that party before I talked to you."

She finally turned her head to look at me and her face dropped. My look of terror must have been as transparent as it felt, because her eyes went wide and she took a tiny step backward.

"Please tell me it isn't true," she whispered.

I couldn't breathe. The air hitched in my lungs and when I opened my mouth all I could do was croak feebly. "San, I... I..."

"Oh my god," she breathed, her lips quivering. "B, what did you do?"

Every ounce of shame that I'd been feeling rushed out from the back of my mind, like a dam bursting behind my eyes. My knees went weak and I trembled. I could have dealt with what I'd done in silence, but hearing it out loud, and from Santana's lips, made me question everything I thought I could handle. If I told her about the party, I'd have to tell her about Karofsky, and the pills, and drowning. I'd lose any sense of control I had left in my life. My heart pounded unrelentingly in my ears, so loud I thought I would have to scream to hear myself over the noise. I couldn't think. I needed to be home, I needed a handful of pills to calm down. I needed to be out from under the heartbroken gaze of Santana, who remained silent before me while I panicked.

"I- I- I just needed... I needed to know. I was confused, and things didn't make sense-"

"You're not making sense, Britt," she whispered, unmoving. "Calm down and tell me what the hell happened."

"I- I- It was nothing, I swear," I stuttered. "Mike goes to my dance studio, he told me about the party. I went, I got a little drunk. I didn't mean to, I'd been drinking. I swear, nothing happened with Matt or that girl. I was drunk." There wasn't anything that I could say about Mike that she would like, so I said nothing.

"Do you have any idea what you've done?" she asked bitterly. "All that work, and you just destroyed it. Your reputation is shattered. I broke up with Puck because I thought he was lying, and here I find that you were the one who lied to me. You weren't sick when I called you that weekend. You were fucking hungover. Did you have someone in your bed when I called you?"

I suddenly realized that this was no longer about me, and as panicked as I'd been the moment before, my mood suddenly turned angry. "So what if I did, San?" I questioned furiously. "Jealous? I don't owe you any explanation for who I might be sleeping with. You don't get to be jealous. You can either have me, or let me live my life. If I want to sleep around, I'll fucking well do it. Yeah, I made out with Matt and that girl. So fucking what? It's none of your goddamn business. I-"

"It is my goddamn business!" she interrupted, grabbing my forearm and pulling me closer to her. "I worked too hard for you to-"

"No," I yelled, interjecting and ripping my arm away. "You can't have me both ways. I'm not going to stop what I'm doing just because it makes you uncomfortable. You know what else? I let Mike Chang fuck me in that dance studio. He wasn't half bad, for a kid with zero game."

I was just trying to get a rise out of her, and it worked. Her face turned a deep shade of red as she balled up her fists and huffed angrily.

"So, what, you're a slut now?" she asked, looking me up and down with disgust. "Spreading your legs for every jock in school? It's one thing to have a boyfriend and put out for him, Brittany. It's another thing entirely to become the class whore. What happened to Karofsky? You get bored after sleeping with him?"

"Jesus Christ, Santana," I spat. "You think I wanted to have sex with him? He's a monster."

"What are you saying?" she asked, her face still red, but her hands relaxing. "I don't understand what that means."

"Nothing," I corrected, my anger now mixing with frustration and confusion. "Forget it."

"Tell me," she demanded, stepping closer again, but without the anger in her voice. "Britt, did he rape you?"

"No!" I shouted; I hadn't wanted to tell her about it this way. "Yes! ...I don't know. Maybe. All I know is that I never told him no, but I certainly didn't tell him yes, either."

Her entire face softened into an inexplicable expression, somewhere between confusion and despair. "You told me you slept with him."

"The circumstances weren't exactly clear," I replied, wringing my hands. "Let's go inside, I don't want my neighbors listening to us. They already know more about me than I'd like them to."

I spun and pushed my front door open, and she followed silently. I took the steps up to my bedroom two at a time, and when I'd set my bag down on the floor, I turned to see Santana shut the door and press her forehead to the door jam.

"I need to know," she said to the wood. "I need you to tell me how it happened. I need to know so I know exactly how long I have to torture him before he dies."

There wasn't a hint of humor in her voice, and it terrified me.

"San, please," I begged. "It's not like that. I just... I wasn't all there, you know? We were in his car. He was upset because you'd been with Puck a while and I wasn't so willing to go that far yet... it just happened. He was on top of me and then..."

"And then?" she asked incredulously, turning to me, her eyes full of tears. "And then? That's it, B? That's not what it's supposed to be like. Your first time isn't supposed to be with a monster who falls on top of you in the back of a Honda."

"He wasn't my first," I corrected her. "You were. And I could have stopped him. I should have. But I was confused. I told you, I wasn't all there."

"You know what I meant," she said softly, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "And it doesn't make a difference. I'm still going to kill him."

"Don't," I sighed. "Just be here now, okay? I need you. I need you to stop being angry with me for getting drunk and being stupid when I was trying to deal with something that I didn't know how to handle. Just... just be my best friend for a minute."

She wrapped her arms around me and didn't let go. "I'm sorry," she mumbled into my shoulder. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. I spent so much time worrying about keeping us on top and not enough time keeping you safe."

"You're never going to stop trying to protect me, are you?" I asked with a sad laugh, holding her close to me and feeling the comforting thump of her heart against my chest.

"Never," she replied. "You're stuck with me."

I kissed her neck and breathed in the healing scent of her for a moment. She kissed me back, her teeth playfully nipping at my throat, but then she retracted and immediately replaced them with her lips.

"Will you stay tonight?" I asked, my arms clinging hopefully.

"Of course," she replied immediately. She slipped her hand up around my wrist, over my palm, and laced her fingers through mine. She led me over to my bed and sat, pulling me, still standing, between her legs. She smiled up at me as she lifted my shirt slowly, kissing up my abdomen while she pushed the fabric over my head.

"San, wait..." I started, too exhausted to fully object, but she put her finger over my lips.

"Shh," she commanded gently. "I just want to take care of you, okay? Nothing funny. I promise." I nodded weakly and she reached around my back to unzip the Cheerio's skirt, sliding it over my hips. I stood above her in just my underwear and she smiled up at me.

"You really are beautiful, you know," she whispered. "The most beautiful girl I've ever seen. Don't let anyone tell you different." She kissed my stomach again and stood, her hands on my waist, turning both of us and pushing me down on the mattress. She crawled up on the bed, kneeling behind me and working her fingers deep into the knots on my shoulders. I moaned softly as she kneaded them, her thumbs running in slow circles. I let my eyes close and my mind went blank for the first time in weeks, her hands working their magic on me, healing me. I started to list slightly to the right, my head aiming for my pillow, and she caught me, cradling me until I was on my side. She got up and the light went out in the room. I heard soft rustling behind me in the dark, and then silence.

"San?"

She crawled into the bed behind me, and slid the blanket over both of us. She pressed her bare body against mine, her arm wrapping around my abdomen and pulling my back into her chest. "I'm here," she murmured into my ear. "You can sleep now."

And I did, for the first time in months, without pills.

A/N: Keep reviewing! Sad authors don't update.