AUthor's Note: Hey! so sorry about the wait; been busy with school and being sick. Yuck. Well I hope you enjoy this chapter because I put alot of thought into it... Dont come murder me in my sleep though. Thanks :)

The sky was growing darker outside as Santana raced down the main highway on her bike. The Latina felt her cell phone buzz, a text great, she ignored it and kept on following the curve of the road. There's another buzz from her front pocket; the Latina lets out a frustrated sigh as she slows her bike down to sit under a street light, she flips over her phone to five missed text messages.

Mike (9:35 pm):
Santana, I'm sorry about what I said earlier. When your done with your blond let me know and we can get a drink K?

Twitter (9:38 pm):
Lesbian_Problems: Problem number #67; when your crush is straight.

Mike (9:47 pm):
Hey gaypez! You didn't respond to my last text, are you still mad at me? We're bro's!

Mike (10:00 pm):
K I'm going drinking w/o you. I ain't gonna wait forever.

Britt-Britt (10:17 pm):
San… I'm sorry I've been a bitch lately. Can we talk? My place 10:30?

The Latina's eyes lingered on the last text, drifting away into her own world of joy and excitement, unaware of the lights coming faster and faster straight towards her. She sent a quick reply, saying I'll be there. Kicked off her rest position and took off full speed into the oncoming car. Santana screamed as she tried to swerve, but was too late. The white lights blinding as her tire hooks on the bottom fender, flipping her over the handle bars. Her helmet is the first to come through the window as her gloved fingers slide across the hood looking for grip. The world goes black as she feels the presser of her helmet compressing on her head and glass cutting through her leather jacket.

Brittany flopped down on her bed, rereading the text from Santana while watching for the clock.

"I'm sorry, no. I am sorry Sanny. Santana I am so sorry for being a bitch. I've been thinking and I was scared, I know I know, that gives me no right to just think that we'll be okay and that we can go on living as if there was nothing wrong. But maybe we can work together and… and do something. Fuck this isn't going to work!" Brittany rolled onto her stomach burying her face into her pillow. She's been trying to find the right words to say to the Latina; because without her Brittany could feel happiness or love anymore. Her mother left her father because he refused to accept Brittany as gay, causing a huge fight between the family. Her mother came to her house a few nights ago and told her to make things better with Santana. Because they where soul mates or something like that, Brittany wasn't one for remembering exact words but she got the just of it. So that night after her mom left she started to plan out what would happen.

Brittany looked at the clock again, 10:25, five minutes, that's all she needed to change. The blond raced to her clothing pulling out a black laced cover to drape over her hot pink bra and matching underwear, she grabbed her curler and gave her straight dead hair a bit of curl to fall over her shoulders as she lay down on the bed, waiting for the door bell to ring. It never did, the blond finally decided to sleep after the clock hit 12:30; her tears where warm as the made delicate lines down her pale cheeks.

"Oh god! I'm so sorry! Hello? Ma'am can you here me?" The driver of the tried to get the Latina to respond as she laid unconscience through his windshield; fumbling for his cell phone he dialed 911.

"911, what's your emergency?"

"Hi, I hit someone, I don't know if she's dead of anything. I-I've been drinking earlier this evening and I thought I was alright to drive but now I think I've killed someone and-"

"Alright sir, what's your name?"

"Finn, Finn Hudson. Is she dead?"

"Okay Finn, I need you to stay calm, I'm sending emergency vehicles to you now. Are you alright?"

"I don't know, I- I think so. I mean there's a lot of blood, but I can't tell if its mine or hers. Oh god I think I killed her." Tear's where streaming down his face as he watched blood trickle through the broken windshield on her helmet. He couldn't hear the lady on the other line now, his ears where ringing too loudly and the smell of death with prickling at his nose.

"I have a wife, and a kid, and I drove home drunk?" He thought back to earlier in the morning, just on how Rachel looked. Her hair was a bit messy after a restless night with Barbra, their three year old daughter who has a cold. But she still looked beautiful to him and now he'll probably never see them again.

"Finn? Are you still there?"

"What? Yeah."

"Tell me about your kid, boy or girl?"

"Girl. Her name is Barbra, she has her mom's eye's and hair, but my smile. She's my little angel and- and I ruined my chance to watch her grow up." His eyes went back to the women in his windshield as sirens started screaming off in the distance. "I killed someone's daughter…" then the world went black as his cell phone fell from his grasp.

The emergency vehicles showed up to the two car collision; a male in his early thirties sat unconscience in the driver's seat with blood from his nose and a cut on his forehead. A female in her late twenties was halfway through his windshield with her helmet cracked and compressed; blood trickled from her stomach down a shard of glass that protruded a couple inches out of her. The emergency workers took quick note of the amount of blood she has lost; they carefully broke the glass that held her in place from the car and lifted her onto a stretcher; racing her to the nearest hospital in hopes that she hasn't lost too much blood already.

Here comes the rain again, falling from the stars.
Drenched in my pain again becoming who we are.
As my memory rests, but never forgets what i lost.
Wake me up, when September ends.