I'm sorry I haven't updated in a while, so I'm posting another chapter. I guess I'll be updating regularly now.
Disclaimer: This story is not mine and neither is Glee.
Santana stood paralysed, her mind in turmoil, unsure what she should do for the best. Her head was telling her to go home, to give Rachel some space to get through the challenge which awaited her inside that building. Glancing on the face of the person who almost killed you, either knowingly or not, was going to be hard enough for Rachel without Santana complicating things even further with her now, obviously unwanted presence. However, Santana's heart was contradicting her head fiercely, compelling her to chase after Rachel, to stop her from walking away from her and more importantly them. Santana's heart throbbed so painfully in her chest that she imagined it being pulled forcefully against her chest wall with every step away from her that Rachel took. As Santana hesitated, her head battling with her heart indecisively, Rachel disappeared inside the building and Santana felt an ache unlike anything else she'd ever experienced before in her life. She felt her chest heave, air expelling from her lungs in hard sobs as she cried openly and unabashedly in the parking lot where she stayed, silently gaping at the electronic doors, praying that at any moment Rachel would reappear. Finally, after fifteen minutes of waiting, Santana realised that she wouldn't.
Now that Rachel had vanished out of sight, Santana's mind finally conquered her failing heart and she slowly made her way back towards her car, climbing into the drivers' seat solemnly and slamming the door closed behind her in frustration. All she could think about whilst she sat there, her head resting listlessly against the window, was how this was her fault and the self-contempt she felt in that moment far exceeded any hatred that she felt towards Bree. Yes, her ex-girlfriend was vindictive and malicious but it had been her finger that had pulled the trigger that may have ultimately ended her relationship with Rachel. Bree may have been the one to plant doubts in her mind about Rachel's feelings but Santana had been the one to let them take root and fester, growing exponentially and indiscriminately like the cells of a malignant tumour until they completely consumed her. Rachel herself had not given Santana one single reason to distrust her feelings. In fact, her actions over the last twenty four hours alone should have been enough to convince Santana that she was being ridiculous and asinine for even giving Bree's comments a moment's consideration.
Santana was angry with Bree for making her question Rachel's feelings and her commitment to their relationship but, more than anything, Santana was livid with herself. She allowed Bree to get under her skin, to taint everything special that she and Rachel shared, twisting it around in Santana's head until she'd become irrational and self-destructive. Bree had gotten exactly what she'd wanted with very little effort and Santana had allowed it to happen, playing right into her ex-girlfriends hands without even a second thought. Santana cursed herself mentally for being such an idiot, lifting her head from its position against the window and turning her key in the ignition, firing the engine into life noisily.
Santana debated staying in her car and waiting in the parking lot for Rachel to come back out, but, she thought better of it when she remembered the withdrawn and unresponsive form that she'd found yesterday afternoon when she'd gone to Rachel's house after school. She decided that, no matter what they were going through right now, Rachel didn't need the extra complication, not when she was already dealing with so much. So, Santana slowly put her car in reverse and pulled out of her parking space, exiting the lot and making her way along the road beyond, driving with no particular destination in mind, aimlessly and reflectively as she considered everything that had transpired in the last few hours.
She couldn't have told you how long she drove for, or which streets she had passed on her seemingly arbitrary journey, but, Santana would always remember where she'd ended up, parked at the beach, in the same spot as she had the evening of her first date with Rachel. Santana stared out her window at the ocean, watching the waves as they rolled into the shore and crashed into the sand beneath, stirring it up and agitating it furiously. The imagery wasn't wasted on Santana and she pictured Bree, the stormy sea sweeping in and disturbing the sand, or as she imagined it, her relationship with Rachel. Santana vividly remembered a particular story that Rachel had shared with her that evening that they had sat together on the beach and a quote, that seemed especially relevant to their situation now, "A smooth sea never made a skilled sailor."
Rachel had told Santana that at the time she'd not understood the words. That it hadn't been until after her accident that they'd finally made sense and although Santana had grasped the meaning of the quote rather quickly, it was only now that she truly appreciated it. As she sat there, time disappearing into an endless abyss, never to be lived or experienced again, Santana couldn't help but regret her actions but, she knew that if nothing else she'd learnt from them, even if it were too late to salvage her relationship with Rachel. If Santana's life were a movie, it would be raining outside as she stared out to sea, the light drizzle running smoothly down the glass of the window as she gazed at the dull grey sky and dismal weather which would perfectly suit her mood. However, her life was not a movie, and although the wind was strong and the sky cloudy, it was bright and every so often the sun would break through a gap in the fluffy white clouds to warm Santana's face, a small comfort in an otherwise miserable mood.
Eventually Santana managed to tear herself away from the beach, pulling herself together long enough to find her way home. The whole journey she was plagued by memories of Rachel's joy the night of their first date as she'd buried her toes in the sand and felt the light sea breeze against her face. Once home, Santana had hurried upstairs and thrown herself onto her bed, digging into her pocket for her phone and dialling Rachel's number, completely oblivious to the duration of time that had passed since they'd parted earlier. When Rachel didn't answer, Santana left a message, apologising profusely and pleading for the other girl to give her a second chance. A few minutes later, unable to tolerate doing nothing, Santana continued in this manner, twisting atop her duvet in agitation, her body eager to do something more practical to rectify her actions from earlier, until she must have left upward of twenty voicemails. Finally, conceding defeat, Santana dialled Quinn's number, a quick glance at the clock informing her that both Brittany and Tina were at their dance class and currently unreachable.
When Quinn picked up the phone Santana immediately updated her on everything that had happened, from her regretful encounter with Bree in the hallway after school to her irrational doubt towards Rachel that had followed. Quinn had been sympathetic to Santana's plight and had informed her friend that she would be around as soon as possible with vast amounts of chocolate, the hope being that together they could figure out a way for Santana to fix things with Rachel. That had been twenty minutes and five further voicemail messages ago, yet, still there was no sign of Quinn.
In the meantime, Santana had found herself pouring salt into the quickly decaying wound by re-reading the letter which Rachel had written to her after she'd confessed her true feelings out loud on that fateful afternoon. She was sat in the window seat of her bedroom which overlooked her backyard, the letter clutched firmly in her hands as the now darkened sky unleashed a tumult of rain against the panel to her side, the weather finally matching her dismal mood in a perfect pathetic fallacy. Santana was alone in the house as she read Rachel's words, her parents at friends for dinner, her brother and sister accompanying them, everyone assuming her to have been at the police station. For the first time in a long time, Santana felt lonely and isolated sat upstairs and she glanced at her phone in the hopes that she'd either had a silent text from Quinn or even better, Rachel. She sighed when her screen revealed no new messages and returned her attention back to the pages in front of her, dejected, the words almost mirroring her own emotions in places.
'I hate how we left things earlier because it felt like the end of something which I wasn't ready to let go of and I refuse to lose something and someone I've come to value so much…I've tried calling you but you're not answering your phone and I don't know if I should be concerned that you can't even bear the idea of talking to me… I know that I have probably hurt you…'
The words on the pages in her hands expressed her own feelings so perfectly that it was almost as though Santana had written them herself in response to her current situation. She stopped reading and put the letter aside when she heard the doorbell ring loudly from downstairs, getting up quickly and sprinting to the front door to let Quinn in and out of the rain. Santana almost passed out with shock when she opened the door to find not Quinn, but Rachel stood before her, drenched from head to foot, wearing nothing to protect her from the rain but her jumper and a pair of skinny jeans.
Santana couldn't see the expression plastered across her face but she was pretty sure that it'd make a horrible picture, her jaw hanging open wide in surprise, her eyes showing her disbelief.
"I don't want to fight," Rachel said simply in greeting, the sleeves of her jumper pulled low over her hands in an attempt to keep warm and her feet shifting nervously beneath her.
"Rachel," Santana managed to say, her brain still not quite registering the reality of the situation but experiencing a faint glimmer of hope. "What are you doing here?"
"I don't want to fight," Rachel repeated meeting Santana's gaze squarely.
"I don't understand," Santana replied confused, completely oblivious to the fact that Rachel was still standing outside in the foul weather.
"I hate fighting with you," Rachel told her honestly. "I already miss you."
"I…" Santana started in astonishment, her brain struggling to formulate a coherent thought. "You…what about…" she tried to say, but the sentences remained incomprehensible so she repeated, "I don't understand."
Rachel stepped forward in a rush, crashing her lips against Santana's and placing a hand on the small of her back, pulling the dumbstruck girl closer to her sodden form as she kissed her fervently. The cold from Rachel's saturated clothes bought Santana to her senses and she separated the two of them, pushing Rachel back gently by her shoulders to study her as small droplets of rain ran off both the end of her nose and clothes onto the mat beneath her.
"Rachel you're drenched." Santana told her as though she were unaware of the situation.
"I don't care," Rachel replied honestly.
"You'll get sick," Santana continued concerned. "How did you get here? Did you walk?"
"Yes," Rachel answered.
"Are you crazy?" Santana asked her. "It's pouring outside. What were you thinking?"
"I wasn't," Rachel said, still standing out in the rain, seemingly undisturbed as it lashed against her.
Santana reached for her arm and pulled her inside hurriedly, closing the door behind her to shut out the weather.
"Let me get you some towels," Santana said making a move to go upstairs.
"No wait," Rachel said reaching for her arm and stopping her in her tracks. "Can we talk? Please?"
"Sure," Santana said, "but, only after I've stopped you from developing pneumonia."
With that Santana quickly vanished upstairs, soon returning with a handful of towels, a pair of her sweat pants, a t-shirt and a hoodie.
"Here," Santana said giving the pile of linen to Rachel and gesturing towards the bathroom at the end of the hall. "Go and get changed."
"Santana…" Rachel said, turning to follow Santana with her eyes as the taller girl moved into the kitchen and out of sight. Rachel stood waiting for her to return expectantly but, when she didn't Rachel relented and made her way to the bathroom. She dried herself quickly and changed in to Santana's clothes, her scent filling Rachel's nostrils and the soft cotton of Santana's hoodie warming Rachel almost instantly.
Once she was dry, she picked up her own waterlogged ensemble and made her way out to the kitchen where she found Santana preparing a cup of cocoa. She turned to look at Rachel, hearing her still damp and bare feet on the tiles of the kitchen floor. She noted the handful of clothes in Rachel's hands.
"Give me those," Santana instructed in a motherly tone, holding out her own hands readily, "I'll put them in the dryer."
Rachel did as she was told and Santana threw the apparel into the machine, turning the dial and starting it immediately.
She gestured for Rachel to take a seat at the kitchen counter as she finished preparing their drinks but she didn't move, instead watching Santana with interest.
"What are you doing?" Rachel asked her after a moment.
"I'm making you a hot drink," Santana told her matter of factly.
"Why?" Rachel questioned, stepping towards the counter and leaning on it with her elbows. "I came to talk to you."
"I know," Santana said turning around to hand Rachel the now finished beverage. "I just…you can drink at the same time can't you?"
"Why are you acting so weird?" Rachel enquired, taking the mug of cocoa from Santana and admittedly appreciating its warmth seeping into her fingers.
"What are you doing here?" Santana countered. Her tone was harsher than she'd intended it and she grimaced as she heard it.
Rachel put the mug down on the counter and stepped around it until she stood before Santana.
"I'm sorry about earlier," Rachel apologised, reaching up and placing a hand on Santana's arm.
"Why do you do that?" Santana asked her voice incredulous. She removed Rachel's hand from her arm, releasing it so that it fell loosely down by her side. "Why do you always apologise for things that aren't your fault? Why can't you just shout at me and resent me like anyone else would?"
"You want me to be mad at you?" Rachel asked her dubiously. "Why?"
"Why?" Santana said disbelievingly. "Are you serious? I was a complete and utter idiot earlier. You should be mad at me. I'm mad at myself. I hurt you and I made a mess of everything."
"I over-reacted," Rachel said reaching up and placing her hand on Santana's arm again.
"You didn't," Santana informed her. "You were right. You've always been honest with me and you share things with me, you do, and I know how hard that is for you sometimes. You share a massive part of yourself with me Rachel." Santana paused to let her words sink in for a moment before continuing. "I mean, it was just yesterday that you asked me to be your girlfriend and said that you thought you were falling in love with me. We lay together on your bed and you told me how you felt about the driver and why you'd chosen to play 'Skyscraper' for me. You were right, ok. I shouldn't have doubted you."
Santana took Rachel's hand from where it still rested on her arm and held it in her own.
"I'm so sorry that I didn't trust your feelings," Santana said simply. "I should have done. You've given me no reason not to, I just, I don't know, I guess I was just insecure and I let Bree manipulate that for her own gains."
"I thought you knew how much I liked you," Rachel said her eyes wide but soft, the dark chocolate orbs absorbing Santana entirely.
"I do Rach," Santana told her quickly squeezing her hand. "Jesus…as soon as I vocalised my doubts out loud I felt guilty because I knew that they were stupid. I've been miserable all afternoon thinking that I'd ruined things for us, that I'd hurt you…"
"You did hurt me," Rachel admitted and Santana reached up her free hand to cup the side of Rachel's face.
"I know, I'm so sorry," Santana replied sincerely. "You have to believe me Rach…I never wanted to hurt you. Please tell me what I can do to fix this. How can I make you forgive me?"
"Promise me something?" Rachel asked her tone serious.
"Anything," Santana agreed instantly.
"Promise me that from now on you'll talk to me if you are having any doubts," Rachel said. "Don't listen to what other people say. Trust me when I say that I'll tell you how I feel…"
"I do trust you Rach," Santana said. "I do, honestly."
"Can we just forget about today then?" Rachel asked hopefully. "Please? I'm so sick of it. Can't we just pretend that it's tomorrow already?"
Santana felt tears form at the corner of her eyes in relief and she couldn't stifle the inappropriate laugh which escaped her lips in her happiness.
"I would really like that," Santana admitted nodding her head at Rachel's words. "You have no idea how much I would like that," she continued, before leaning forward and placing a soft kiss on Rachel's lips.
"So, you're still my girlfriend?" Rachel asked searching for clarification.
Santana kissed Rachel again quickly on the lips and then once more, this time lingering there for a moment longer, deepening it as she pulled Rachel close in to her, enjoying the feel of her small form wrapped up in her arms and the warmth that she was radiating against her body.
"For as long as you'll have me," Santana said kissing Rachel's forehead lightly, her mouth mumbling the words into the scar above her left eyebrow.
Rachel finally wrapped her own arms around Santana, burying her head into her chest as she spoke next.
"I hated how we left things earlier," Rachel said, her voice muffled by Santana's jumper. "I hated leaving you. I didn't want to, but, I was being stupid too…"
"I wish you'd let me come in to the police station with you," Santana told her seriously. "I should have been there with you. You'd asked me to come and support you and I let you down."
"It's ok," Rachel replied, lifting her gaze to meet Santana's but she still felt awful for having not been there for her girlfriend when she'd needed her.
"How was it?" Santana asked releasing Rachel from her grasp and allowing her to take a seat at the counter.
Rachel picked up her drink and took a sip as Santana descended into the chair beside her.
"Actually it was a lot easier than yesterday," Rachel admitted. "I guess it kind of helped that I knew what to expect."
"Did you…you know, see them?" Santana asked her tentatively.
"Him," Rachel said, "and no…well I mean I guess I did, but, I don't know which one it was."
"What do you mean?" Santana asked.
"I couldn't remember," Rachel informed her. "I don't know who the driver was. I guess I never saw his face, just the car."
"You didn't ask?" Santana questioned surprised.
"I don't think I want to know," Rachel replied. "Not yet anyway. I'll have to face him at some point in the future, just, not yet."
"Why not?" Santana asked her.
"I don't know," Rachel shrugged, "I just don't."
"Do your parents?" Santana asked.
"Yes," Rachel told her. "My dad wanted to know so they stayed a little while longer whilst I waited outside. I don't think I've ever seen him so angry, my daddy either."
"Can you blame them?" Santana asked.
"No," she replied. "I suppose not."
"Did they charge him?" Santana probed interestedly.
"Yes," Rachel said her voice neutral. "Apparently a lot of the eye-witnesses identified him and the car, plus, they managed to track down the garage where he'd had the repair work on the car done."
Rachel paused for a moment to have a sip of her drink.
"The garage still had the hood of the car in their scrap heap," Rachel went on. "They found traces of blood and have taken a sample to compare. They're pretty confident that it'll match."
"So that's it then?" Santana enquired.
"For now," Rachel said, "until the trial."
"You have to go?" Santana asked her, she reached her hand forward to place it on top of Rachel's sensing her distress at the prospect.
"Yes," Rachel replied. "I'm just not looking forward to having to relive it, that's all. They'll show pictures of me…after the accident…in the hospital…I just…I don't want to see them."
Santana leant forward, closing the gap between them and embracing Rachel tightly in a hug. Rachel reciprocated and Santana felt elated that she was able to move on from what had happened earlier so easily. She would never understand how she had gotten so lucky as to have Rachel in her life, never.
"It'll be ok," Santana reassured her.
"I know," Rachel replied smiling at Santana. "It'll just be hard that's all."
"Speaking of hard," Santana said wanting to get everything out in the open if they were starting over. "We might have a problem with Bree."
Rachel lowered her gaze to the counter for a moment before meeting Santanas' eyes again.
"I'd kind of assumed that we might have," Rachel replied thoughtfully.
"She's jealous because I chose you over her," Santana told her. "That's why she's being so nice to you Rach. It's why she was trying to get in to my head earlier…"
"I'll stay away from her," Rachel replied seriously.
"That might be easier said than done," Santana noted.
"Actually for me it's probably easier done than said…" Rachel joked and Santana smiled despite herself.
"Rach I'm serious," Santana responded.
"So am I," Rachel continued. "Santana she can only hurt us if we let her."
"She already did get hurt us," Santana acknowledged, "I let her get to me and look what happened."
"You won't in the future," Rachel reassured her. "You won't make the same mistake again."
"You really believe that don't you?" Santana asked her.
"Yes," Rachel answered honestly as she leant over to kiss Santana's lips comfortingly, "because from now on I'll make extra certain that you know how much I care about you."
"Oh," Santana said raising her eyebrow playfully. "Is that so?"
"Yes," Rachel said kissing Santana again. "Perhaps she'll even start to get the hint when I push you up against the lockers and start making out with you in the middle of the hallway."
Santana sucked in a breath at the thought of the Rachel's scenario and felt her face flush red in response.
"You wouldn't…" Santana said, her mind playing out the scene over and over again on loop.
"No you're probably right," Rachel replied smiling brightly, "firstly, I don't have the strength or the co-ordination to push a small kitten up against the lockers yet alone a person.
She drained the remainder of her drink from the cup before continuing.
"However, I don't think a little more PDA would hurt," Rachel said biting her bottom lip.
"You make a compelling argument," Santana said, watching Rachel's lips closely.
"I thought I might," Rachel laughed. She stood up from the stool she'd been sitting on to pick up her cup and take it over to the sink to rinse.
Santana watched her curiously from where she sat for a moment before standing up herself and following her across the kitchen. Rachel placed the now empty cup in the sink, turning on the tap in preparation for washing it, but Santana spun her around to face her, reaching over to turn the tap off again.
"What are you doing?" Rachel asked a small smiling gracing her lips as Santana pressed her hips into Rachel's, backing her into the cabinet behind her.
"I just thought that we should practice some of that PDA you were talking about, you know, to make it convincing." Santana told her teasingly as she gripped onto Rachel's waist with her hands.
"Santana," Rachel said flustered, her face bright red.
"You should wear my clothes more often," Santana told Rachel, studying her closely, her eyes roaming every inch of her, taking in every feature. "I think I prefer them on you any way."
Santana dipped her right hand under the t-shirt and hoodie Rachel wore, tracing small delicate paths along the soft skin beneath. She felt Rachel's abdomen tense slightly beneath her fingers and Santana smiled when she heard the sharp intake of breath from her girlfriend. Santana pressed closer to Rachel so that their faces were mere inches apart and lowered her head, tilting it slightly to place a soft delicate kiss to Rachel's neck where it met her jaw.
She heard Rachel moan and Santana smirked against her skin as she traced soft kisses up towards Rachel's ear, her hand still drawing small circles on her stomach. Using her other hand, Santana reached up and grasped the back of Rachel's neck, tugging lightly on the hair at the base of her neck. She kissed the base of Rachel's jaw once again and enjoyed the feel of Rachel squirming beneath her as she lifted her lips and pushed them against her girlfriends, wasting no time in deepening the kiss eagerly, her tongue battling with Rachel's as she felt the other girl push back against her at last.
Finally, having elicited a response, Santana leant back, parting their lips and opening her eyes to find Rachel's still closed. They opened a few seconds later, seemingly registering that Santana was no longer touching her and their lips were no longer locked together.
Rachel swallowed hard, her lips swollen and her pupils dilated. She furrowed her brow when she saw Santana's amused expression.
"That's pay back for yesterday," Santana teased, stepping back and making her way over to the fridge to get herself a soda.
"What?" Rachel said breathless, her voice light and airy. "Why?"
Santana pulled out a can of coke and opened it, the gas escaping in a rush, much like the oxygen in Rachel's lungs. She closed the fridge and leant up against it, eyeing Rachel closely.
"I seem to recall you doing the exact same thing to me on your bed yesterday," Santana said smugly, taking a sip of her drink. "It sucks doesn't it?"
Rachel smiled at Santana's words, a wide grin spreading across her features as her girlfriend watched her nonchalantly from against the fridge.
"Not really," Rachel said playfully. "In fact, I kind of liked it."
Santana raised her eyebrow in surprise as Rachel quickly closed the distance between them and pushed Santana up against the fridge making it rock back slightly and the glass inside clink together as they settled once again. Santana quickly placed the can of coke on the counter to her right as Rachel pushed her hands into the back pockets of Santana's jeans, her palms effectively cupping her buttocks as she pulled Santana against her. Rachel leaned forward and kissed Santana who relaxed back into the fridge slightly in response to the feel of Rachel's lips on her own.
The doorbell rang and Santana felt Rachel smile against her lips before pulling her head back and looking into her eyes pointedly.
"Saved by the bell," Rachel stated, removing her hands from Santana's back pockets and reaching over to take the can of coke from the counter. She leant back against it to take a swig as Santana made her way to answer the door, muttering curses under her breath about Quinn's crappy timing and causing Rachel to laugh as she watched her disappear out of sight.
Santana answered the door to find Quinn standing beneath an umbrella which she held in one hand, a bag of confectionary in the other.
"Hi, sorry I took so long," Quinn apologised. "Have you heard back from Rachel?"
"Actually she's here," Santana said, making a move to close the door. "In fact we're all good…so…yeah…see you later."
Quinn stuck her foot in the door to stop it closing and succeeding, Santana only closing it slowly.
"Aww…did I interrupt you two making up?" Quinn teased and Santana groaned inwardly.
"Ok, so yeah, the moments over," Santana opened the door to let Quinn past and closed it behind her as she lowered her umbrella. "Rach, Quinn is here to be the awkward third wheel!" she called and Rachel appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, still drinking Santana's soda.
"Hi," Rachel greeted waving at Quinn who had a huge grin plastered on her face as she noticed Rachel wearing Santana's clothes.
"Oh," Quinn said misunderstanding the situation. "I didn't realise I'd actually interrupted you two making up?"
"What?" Santana said confused before noticing Rachel's attire and finally seeing how it might look from Quinn's point of view. "Oh no, it's not like that…"
"Yeah whatever you say," Quinn said doubtfully as she made her way in to the kitchen to help herself to a drink and to unload the items she'd bought on to the kitchen counter.
Santana looked horrified at Quinn's error and Rachel, noting her embarrassment couldn't help but laugh at the expression on her face.
"Rach," Santana protested quietly so that only she could hear. "Would you please tell her that it wasn't like that?"
Rachel raised her eyebrow playfully before winking in Santana's direction, turned on her heels and vanished into the kitchen to join Quinn, leaving a very flustered Santana standing in her wake in the hallway.