A/N: I mentally kick myself every time I write a chapter, because I'm so worried the characters are going to act, well… out of character. I hope you'll understand what's going on with Sam in this chapter. It kind of addresses why he came to Quinn in the first place, as well as what's next in his relationship with Quinn. I hope it isn't terribly boring, and I'm so sorry if it is! This is a long overdue chapter, but I've been so busy lately! I do have a few long plane trips next week, so I'll probably have time to write a bit more then!

Please feel free to review if you are new to this story, and thanks so much to everyone that already does. You guys are awesome!

DISCLAIMER: One time I had a dream that I owned all the characters on Glee. The problem was that I then woke up and realized I don't. So, yeah, sorry. Only the plot is mine.

I thought about my next move all night. I tossed and turned, unable to sleep. I knew what I was supposed to do but not how to go about it. Finally I came to a crucial conclusion: I had to take Santana down from the inside. And the only way to get there was to make up with Sam.

In the morning, I got dressed nicely and did my hair. I wasn't in any particular hurry, but I felt like I was moving faster than usual. I guess I was on autopilot, in order to make sure I went through with what I intended to do.

As I drove to Sam's house, I tried to come up with something to say in my mind. But I found that I had no idea what to say to him. I was just going to have to say whatever showed up in my head. But maybe, I knew, it would be better that way. Sam was my best friend, or had been, and he'd have been able to tell if my words were forced, scripted. So they wouldn't be.

When I got to his house, an unfamiliar car was in the driveway—a rental car which could only be Santana's. It was early, which to me meant that Santana had probably spent the night. This worried me more than you'd think. I knew Sam's morals, and I knew that, like me, chastity was one of his values. Had Santana changed him so deeply already? Calmly, I talked myself out of my sinking suspicions. After all, Sam had spent the night at my house before, and he slept on the couch. It didn't have to mean anything.

I sat there in my car for several minutes, trying to gather the courage to get out and say what I needed to. Finally, I knocked on the door. I had my key still, but I knew better than to use it. The last thing I needed was to walk in on Sam and Santana doing something I didn't want to see.

Sam answered the door, and he was still half asleep, I could tell. He was wearing dark gray sweatpants and a plain white t-shirt, and his hair was mussed. He even had a faint sheet line on his face, as though he'd only rolled out of bed when he heard my knock.

"Quinn?" He asked, confused. "What are you… what are you doing here?"

I swallowed hard. "I need to talk to you."

He scratched the back of his neck as he considered this, frowning. "Do you want to come in?"

I tried to avoid letting jealously sneak into my voice. "Is your girlfriend here?"

"Uh… yeah. Yeah, she's in the living room." It may have just been me, but I could've sworn he put extra emphasis on the words 'living room' as if to assure me nothing was going on.

"Okay, well, can we go out or something?" I asked. "I really would prefer to talk to you in private. I can wait for you to get ready…"

"Look, Quinn, I'm not sure that's a good idea." He said. "Santana told me you called yesterday. I just don't know if I can deal with this right now."

That stung. He had described our friendship, once one of the most important things in his life, as something he "didn't know if he could deal with." But while my mind was telling me to give up and go back home, I stayed there on the doorstep.

"Well, you have to." I told him. My voice was unintentionally sharp. "You made a promise. You can't go back on it!"

He sighed, then smiled. "You're right." He answered. "Come in while I get dressed."

I carefully stepped inside and walked into the familiar living room. Santana was there, asleep on the couch, which made me smile. It showed me Sam was still, at least in some ways, who he had been.

Quietly, I took a seat on the floor next to the fireplace. Sam never took long to get ready, and within a few minutes he came back into the room, his hair wet from his shower, dressed in his usual jeans and t-shirt.

He went over to the couch and shook Santana gently. "Hey." He said softly, "I'm going out for a bit. If you leave before I get back I'll come over later, okay?" Santana said nothing, simply looking blankly at him and then closed her eyes again. Sam bent down, kissed her on the forehead, and then turned to me. "Ready?"

I stood up in response and we walked outside. Sam started to head towards my car, but I stopped him. "I'd like to walk." I told him, "If that's okay with you."

He nodded, but said nothing. We walked in silence for a few minutes, and again I pondered what to say. I was glad I hadn't driven anywhere, though, for some reason silence seems less awkward when you're taking a walk than in a car.

Finally, I began to speak. "I guess you know why I need to talk to you." I told him.

"You want to apologize?" He asked.

Sighing, I nodded. "I just… I needed you, Sam. You're my best friend, and the past two weeks have been so hard without you."

"I missed you too." He answered. "And I'm sorry, I know it was my fault too, I shouldn't have run out on you like that."

"I guess I was just worried about you and Santana." I said quietly. "I don't know what she's like now, but…" I trailed off, not wanting the words I had intended to say next to offend him.

"Look, Quinn," he answered, ignoring the fact that I hadn't finished what I was saying. "I went to Santana because I… I need stability. And after we had our fight, I was afraid you wouldn't want me in your life anymore. So… I went to someone who would take me in."

"Sam, I promised I'd always be there for you." I reminded him gently.

"I know." He said. "But things can change so quickly, you know? A single moment can change everything. Constants are hard to come by, and I knew that if… well, if I couldn't count on you, I just needed someone."

Those words hurt too. With tears in my eyes, I answered, "I'm sorry I wasn't trustworthy enough to be your constant, Sam. I should've been there, and I wasn't. But I promise, I'm not going to do that to you again."

He stopped walking and turned to face me. "That's what I thought when you became my best friend, Quinn. But something about the fight showed me that maybe we aren't meant to be friends. And… this wasn't the first time you've hurt me like that. I'm sure you remember what happened in high school."

It was the first time he'd mentioned our breakup since it had happened, and I didn't know how I should feel about that. His voice had been so devoid of emotion as he'd mentioned it, and I knew then that my current feelings were absolutely and possibly eternally unrequited.

"Sam, I am so very, very sorry about everything." I told him. "I swear to you, whatever happens, I'm not going to let you down again. I know I wasn't there for you when you needed it, but I'm coming to you as a friend now, and I'm asking for help. I miss being your best friend, and I can't just go on like this if we don't fix things. Please, take me back." My voice broke on the last word, and I knew the tears in my eyes were dangerously close to falling.

He sighed again. "I'm not going to lie to you, Quinn." He said. "I've missed you too, and I'm willing to go back to the way things were. But, I just don't know if I can. It… it gets complicated."

"Complicated how?" I asked.

He frowned as if in pain. "I wish you wouldn't ask me that."

"Noted." I answered. "But you can't just tell me you can't be friends with me anymore and not give a reason why. What is going on?"

He didn't say anything for a moment, looking down at his feet. "I don't know exactly what you said to Santana yesterday, but…last night, well…" He seemed reluctant to continue, and his eyes wouldn't meet mine.

"Well?" I prompted, completely unprepared for his next words.

"SheaskedmetogotoLAwithher." He spoke so fast I had no chance of comprehending it.

"What?"

He still wouldn't look up at me. "She asked me to move to LA and…and… marry her."

I felt like I'd been punched in the stomach. He had been right before; one moment really could change everything. Sam, up until now, had been the one man in my life that I could legitimately see myself marrying and having a future with. And despite what Santana had said to me on the phone the day before, I hadn't expected to have that whole future pulled out from under me with one quick statement.

I thought he had finished speaking, but then he continued. "I haven't given her an answer yet. But I know she would prefer if we weren't friends anymore, Quinn."

I nodded. That much I had expected. I had one more question for him, and it was one I did not want to ask. Finally, quietly, I asked, "Sam, do you love her?"

It seemed like my question was one he had been trying to answer for himself, and he pondered it for a few long moments. Then, slowly, he answered. "I don't know. And frankly, I don't know if it even matters. I don't think you understand how bad things were for me, Quinn. And if Santana is going to be there for me, I don't think it even really matters what I feel for her. In all honesty, I'm not sure I even believe in love anymore."

"Oh, Sam!" I said. My heart broke for him in that moment. I was no longer thinking about it like a war between me and Santana about who could get Sam first, it was how to fix this terribly broken human being.

I pulled Sam into a hug. And a few seconds later, as we pulled apart, I knew what I had to say. "You're my best friend." I told him. "Despite everything that's happened these past few weeks, I want you to know that I still care for you. And I am going to keep that promise we made so long ago. And so if she is what you want, Sam, I'm not going to stop you. But I'm not going to forget. And I promise I'll be there for you if you ever change your mind."

He smiled at me and I could see tears forming in his eyes as well. I could tell he was struggling to grasp with the gravity of the decision he had to make, and I didn't blame him. But despite the words I'd spoken a few minutes earlier, I still knew that I wasn't done with Sam just yet. I wasn't going to let him go without a fight. And my intentions were still clear to me: I was going to get through to Santana no matter what decision Sam made. The question now was just the same as before: how was I going to pull it off?

A/N: Ooh, I just remembered that I have to thank you guys for the reviews you left on my other Quinn story, "Letters You'll Never Send". Thanks so much for that, and if you haven't read it yet, feel free to read/review! Thanks!

Oh yeah! Another thing I forgot: okay, so, someone in the reviews (at the moment I can't remember who it was) commented that they would like to read Sam's point of view in some of this story. Well, I thought about that for a while, and from a writer's standpoint I don't want to do that, because it would get confusing for me to write it, and also, probably, for the reader, if I kept switching the point of views. However, I wonder if anyone else was wondering about Sam's view of this whole thing. And so, I had an idea. (Again, this is just an idea, but please let me know in your review what you think.) So, I know that Stephenie Meyer wrote the Twilight series (which I hate, by the way, if you were wondering. Okay. Off topic.) from Bella's point of view, but then she also wrote a book called Midnight Sun, which was basically like Twilight, only from Edward's point of view. So, if anyone's interested in reading Sam's point of view, I might consider writing this story through his eyes after I'm done…anyway, again, that's just a thought, but please let me know if you're interested!