HEYYY THERE. GUESS WHO HAS YET ANOTHER FAMILY DINNER/REUNION/THING TONIGHT!

anyways, here's the chapter I DREAD to post because I'm so unconfident about it

Hope you enjoy!

oh and heads up. quite a bit of swearing in this chapter.

Chapter 14

"You are sooooo tipsy right now, Blondie."

"I soooo am not!" Quinn's giggle rang through the cool night air.

"Says the person who's lying on some blankets on the back of a truck, giggling so much she's almost spilling beer on herself?"

"Yes!" Quinn sat up suddenly, facing Santana, "Let's play something?"

Santana smiled fondly. Tonight, she was determined to not get too drunk. She didn't want to do something with a drunk Quinn that they would both regret the next morning. She just wanted to see Quinn loosen up a little. "Well, what does Blondie suggest?"

"Mm… Tell me something I don't know about you?"

"And you'll do the same for me?" She jumped slightly as she felt Quinn's head land on her lap.

"Yep, but you can start!"

"Mm…" Santana ran her fingers through the tipsy Quinn's hair, "I was out late at night once and this fucker asked how much I take for an hour?"

Quinn burst out laughing way too hard than she intended. Santana found it a little funny, as she knew Quinn was usually the angry-drunk type. Still, she drank in the laughter, enjoying it very much.

"How much do you take for an hour, Tana?" Quinn slurred with a smirk on her face.

"I think you're drunk, Quinn." Santana rolled her eyes at the cute mess before her.

"Am not."

"Tell me something I don't know about you."

"Um. I've showered with a girl, actually. Like non-sexually?"

Santana found her eyebrow raise, "Oh? And who is this lucky miss?"

"My sister!" Quinn stared with puppy eyes at Santana, who had a playful frown on her face.

"Lucy Quinn Fabray, that totally doesn't count!"

"Why not," she whined, "it's something you didn't knowwwwwww."

"Tell me something else, Fabray."

"Fine." Quinn thought for a moment, "I wasn't really dating Puck when I attended your wedding."

Santana found a smile on her face as she opened her third can of beer of the night. She felt a little more confident on regaining Quinn, with this newfound information. She found Quinn squirming and giggling, apparently for no reason.

Counting the empty cans lined along the wall of the truck, she gathered that Quinn was currently on her third beer as well. But Santana knew she could hold her alcohol way better than the blonde could.

"My turn?" she watched the blonde nod, "Let me see… The first time I did it myself was wh—"

"Did what yourself?" Quinn looked really innocently at Santana.

"Did… myself?" Santana laughed as she saw Quinn crack up.

"Okay you pervert, tell me more~"

"I did myself when I was… hm… 14 I think."

"The first time I did myself was after I was in college, you naughty girl!" Quinn rolled to her side, a little bit away from Sanatana. She was sprawled on the blankets once more when Santana asked her an unexpected question.

"Well, did it feel good?"

"Not as good as you make me feel."

For a moment, the girls turned silent, their breathing unstable from all the laughing. Quinn had a beautiful shade of red on her cheeks, and even in the dim light of the hanging camping lamp, Santana saw it. Quinn looked like herself again. The confident, beautiful Quinn, so head-over-heels for Santana. However, Santana immediately brushed it off. Just friends.

"I have a confession to make."

"What is it, drunkie?"

"I'm not drunk, so stop it!" Quinn squealed as she felt fingers on her sides, tickling her.

"You so are!"

"Noooo, Tanaaaa!" Quinn was turned into a giggly mess all over again, pushing and kicking the Latina half-heartedly. When Santana's fingers finally stopped working their magic, Quinn was quite breathless. She took a minute to breathe deeply, trying to stabilise her breathing.

"I have a confession."

"Something I don't know?"

"Yeah." Quinn's eyes suddenly turned a little more serious, "I've never been raped."

"I know that one, too," then it hit her, "Wait, what?"

"You never attacked me, Santana." Quinn's laugher died down, but giggles were still periodically

Santana was well aware that alcohol happened to pull the truth from between lips quite often. Still, she could not believe the words she was hearing. Instantly, she felt sobered up, every bit of alcohol seeming to lose its effect.

"Quinn, you're rambling." Santana went into full-denial mode.

"No, Tana, I'm not. I'm serious." Quinn had her eyes closed. There was not a single hint of a smile on her lips.

"No, stop it, go to sleep, you're tired."

"No… Santana…"

"Stop, please."

"Santana, I'm not lying…" Quinn reached out towards Santana, but Santana only pulled away.

"I know." Santana felt her blood begin to boil. She felt hot all of a sudden, even surrounded by the cool air of a spring night rolling into autumn. And she knew it wasn't the alcohol in her system that felt as though it had never been there. She was all too desperate for an excuse now.

"But the house? The room? Your panties?"

"Staged." Quinn's tone was flat.

It pierced into Santana's heart. "The hickeys?"

Quinn scrunched up her nose, as if to think for a moment, "I think those were real. You did kinda fall onto me and start to kiss me."

Santana felt a small surge of relief that she was the only one who had given Quinn those lovebites, but it did little to quell the anger she found building up within her body.

Everything she had known and believed seemed to be a lie. She found herself angry at Quinn—something that had never happened before, at least not to this extent. Quinn had so blatantly told a lie, causing her to believe she was some sort of horrible person who went around drunk and forcing loved ones into sex.

Her gaze drifted from the darkness onto the beauty she saw in front of her. She knew Quinn was drunk. And as much as she'd like to deny it, she also knew that drunk Quinn meant truthful Quinn. A very truthful Quinn.

Suddenly, Santana felt like slapping Quinn. She felt like punching her, kicking her—and maybe pushing her off the cliff. Now was a time she felt like going all Lima Heights on Quinn.

But something in her didn't let her. Santana didn't know what, but she felt herself stopped from the violence. Instead, she found herself crawling towards the end of the truck. She hopped off.

"Tana, where are you going?"

"Away." Her voice was blank.

Quinn felt a wave of fear seize her, washing away a little bit of the alcohol. She tried to lunge after the other, but in her still-drunken state, could not comprehend that the other had already gotten off the truck. "Tana, don't please…" Suddenly, her voice turned into a bare whisper, "I'm sorry…"

"Why did you do it." Santana's voice was lined in pain. She had her eyes shut, her back to the blonde. Her nails were digging into her palm as her hands curled into tight fists. Her knuckles turned white.

"I wanted to hurt you…" Quinn whimpered softly, "I'm sorry… I was just so hurt by you… I thought I could hurt you…"

"And taking revenge on me and blatantly staging a fucking rape would do that?"

"Well, it did make you really guilty…"

"It also made me really damned confused and made me break my wife's heart! Fuck it, you heartless bitch!" Her voice was loud and strong. She was screaming at Quinn, but Santana felt like she could still get louder. Wait. Did she just call Quinn a heartless bitch? Shit.

She heard nothing behind her but a soft hiccup, and her heart sank even more. Shit shit shit shit shit.

"I need to be alone."

"No, Santana, please! I'm sorry…" Quinn's voice came out thinner than a thread, her tears making her speech shakier and more slurred than it already was.

"Just let me be!"

With that, Santana ran in between the trees, barefoot, seeking refuge in the shadows, leaving a whimpering and crying Quinn in the back of the truck. She felt tears streaming down her own face as she ran. It wasn't long before she stopped running and began to walk. Even though she felt so disoriented, she knew better than to run too far and get lost.

Her fist came into contact with the thick hard bark of a nearby tree. It shook under the impact, leaves drifting down. Santana punched again, knowing her knuckles would be grazed. Still, with the hate she found within herself, the pain was nothing.

She let the tears stream down her cheeks. She didn't want to care anymore. She let her impulse guide her actions.

When Santana regained consciousness of what she was doing, she found her shoulders shaking as she leaned against a tree. She felt broken all over again. The woman she loved was someone completely different. Or was she still the same?

With her shirt, Santana dried her tears as they kept falling. Her breathing was still ragged. Her head hurt, her chest hurt, her everywhere hurt. But of all that, her heart ached the most.

As her breathing became normal again, she found herself capable of sorting out her thoughts clearly. Instead of finding the anger and rage she had felt only an hour ago, she found another feeling in her heart.

Love.

She didn't expect this feeling, but for some reason, this was the strongest of all the emotions that were swimming in her heart and mind. A small part of her wished it wasn't.

Even though Santana knew Quinn had wronged her, she found it impossible to hate Quinn. Yes, she was still upset, but she could see why Quinn had acted the way she did. She knew Quinn had been so hurt by her. It'd only be logical for Quinn to want to hurt her back, as childish as it was.

What she didn't understand was why Quinn had kept it a secret so long. Santana found her legs giving out as she slid lower onto the ground, till she was sitting on the floor, leaning against the tree.

Then all of a sudden, she remembered the crying Quinn at the back of the truck, the Quinn who was breaking. Then she realized why Quinn had kept the secret for so long. This must have been the secret she had been holding at the library. Santana sighed softly. Quinn was scared of losing Santana.

And that made Santana realize something: She was scared of losing Quinn, too.

In all the confusion, she desperately needed something to do. Santana needed a form of release, and she knew it wasn't going to come in the form of violence—her grazed and bleeding knuckles wouldn't make that easy.

Instead, Santana parted her lips, finding her own voice and letting it float softly through the woods. It was soft and shaky from her crying, but it helped anyway.

'Cause you are the piece of me I wish I didn't need

Chasing relentlessly, still fight and I don't know why

Suddenly, Santana felt guilt creeping into her heart, like the devil creeping onto the soul of the unaware. Only this time, she felt thankful for the guilt.

If our love is tragedy, why are you my remedy?

If our love's insanity, why are you my clarity?

Right. Quinn and her had shared the craziest, stupidest romance ever. But Quinn was home.

She found herself remembering the kiss that they had shared that fateful morning. To say she didn't initiate it was a lie. To say she didn't like it was even worse of a lie. Suddenly, Santana remembered why she had been so upset at Brittany as well. It wasn't just because she thought she had cheated on Brittany… well, she did cheat, just at a smaller scale than she thought. She shook her head to herself. Cheating is cheating, you bitch.

Santana hated her conscience sometimes. She pushed the indictment to the back of her head as she recalled the events that happened that same night. She had caught Brittany in bed with a… man.

Santana sighed as she stood up from the ground, her anger subsiding. Even if Quinn had lied and been a bitch… it all started with Santana being one. She had lusted for Quinn. And then somehow, that turned into love. But still, she had left Quinn, missing her, and even tried to invite her to the wedding. Santana was sure there was no bigger ass than herself in this universe. She dusted herself off, walking back towards where she though she came from. This time, she wiped her tears away for good.

Now that there were no secrets anymore, it was time to get things right.

Song: "Clarity" (Glee Cast Version cuz it's still awesome-er)