Some reminders before we jump into this chapter:

This story time hops like crazy so in this chapter, our people are around 22 years old. Brittany and Santana ARE together. And, while I don't want to spoil anything, I feel the need to put out a reminder that this is not a Brittana-centric story, so if I don't choose to dwell on the specifics of their relationship, it's because I'm hoping for the focus to be elsewhere.

Enjoy! Or don't, things get a little rough here, tbh. Quarantine has me in a mood.


A month after Quinn died, Rachel awoke to the sound of her phone ringing at 2:17am. She blinked hard, reaching blindly for her phone and squinting at the caller ID.

"Brittany?" she mumbled, fighting back a yawn. "What's going on?"

"Can you come over, Rach? Like, now? I know it's late but please."

Warning bells went off in Rachel's head. She sat up, fully awake. "Brittany, what's wrong?" she asked, anxiety filling her stomach.

Suddenly, she heard a loud crash from Brittany's end of the phone, followed by a string of vicious swearing. Rachel's stomach dropped; she knew that voice.

"How long?"

"She came over around 10 and I knew something was wrong but she wouldn't talk to me. I tried my best to hold her off for as long as I could but she started drinking when I went to the bathroom and I didn't notice the bottle until it was too late."

Rachel heard another banging noise in the background.

"Rach?" Brittany said, sounding close to tears. "Please?"

"I'll be there in 10 minutes."

True to her word, Rachel knocked on Brittany's doorbell 10 minutes later. The tall blonde opened the door and Rachel's heart clenched as she took in her friend's tear-streaked face; the girl looked utterly exhausted.

"Where are your parents?" she asked, stepping into the house and taking off her coat; she winced as she heard a crash from downstairs.

"They're still in Ireland with my aunt and uncle," Brittany said, closing the door behind Rachel and running a hand through her tangled waves. "Rach, I'm so sorry I called you so late. I still kind of can't believe you actually showed up. I'm so sorry. I just…" she trailed off and looked at Rachel with true anguish in her eyes. "It was always Quinn who dealt with her when she got like this. I've never really had to, not to this extent. I thought about calling Puck but I thought the two of them together like this might actually be even worse."

"How bad is it?" Rachel asked quietly.

"Bad," Brittany's voice cracked. "Like, really bad. I've only seen her like this once before and, like I said, Q handled it. I'm sorry, Rach. I didn't know who else to call."

"Don't apologize," Rachel said, giving the blonde a hug. "Where is she?"

"The basement. I figured that was the best place for her to blow off some steam. All we've got down there is a bunch of old furniture my dad has been meaning to drive to the dump for ages. I'm pretty sure she's broken almost everything."

"I'm sure you're right. Let's go see the damage."

As they walked down the stairs and the basement came into view, Rachel's eyes widened in disbelief. The concrete floor was littered with broken glass and splintered pieces of wood. What might have once been a ceramic vase now looked like a jigsaw puzzle waiting to be put together. There was a small dent in one of the walls.

And in the midst of it all…

"San?" Brittany said in a small voice.

The Latina whirled around and Rachel internally cringed at her bloodshot eyes. "Well, well, well," Santana slurred, clearly drunk out of her mind. "Look who came to join the party. Quinn Fabray's dirty little lesbian secret. How fucking sweet."

It was a low blow right off the bat but Rachel tried not to let the cruel words sting her as she made it to the bottom of the stairs.

"Santana. What's happening here?" she asked, surveying the trashed room.

"Aww, what's wrong, Berry?" Santana cooed. "You don't like my party decorations?" She grabbed a small lamp from the top of a dresser and slung it across the room; Rachel and Brittany both winced as the lightbulb shattered.

"Santana," Rachel tried again but Santana cut her off.

"No. No, no, no," she smirked, walking up to Rachel and putting her finger to Rachel's lips. "You talk way too fucking much. No talking allowed at my party."

Rachel jerked her head back from Santana's hand and took a step closer to Brittany. "Alright, I'll bite," she said cautiously. "What are we celebrating?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Santana sounded surprised. "Exactly one month ago, your secret ex-girlfriend kicked the bucket. Don't you think we should honor her?" She took a long swig from the bottle of tequila she was holding. "Mmm…" she murmured, closing her eyes. "You and Quinn. I've gotta hand it to you, Rach, that's kind of hot. I always knew Quinn was secretly kinda gay but I never figured you were, too." She opened her eyes and Rachel saw a nasty gleam in them. "Tell me," she mock-whispered. "Was she good in the sack?"

Rachel gaped at Santana in such utter disbelief that she was rendered speechless. She had been witness to quite a few drunken Santana meltdowns before but Brittany had been right; this was bad on another level.

Before she could say anything, Santana went on, "Rachel, honestly, I was shocked when I found out about you and Q. I mean, Q was awful to you for years. And you still somehow ended up in bed with her? Bit masochistic of you, don't you think?" Her smile was reptilian, "I always thought you might be a freak in the sheets but getting off on letting your childhood bully fuck you is a little kinky, even for you."

"San," Brittany whispered, sounding as horrified as Rachel felt.

"I know you don't mean that," Rachel said, knowing the only way to win the game Santana wanted to play was to refuse to do so. "You've had a lot to drink, Santana. Far too much. How about I trade you the tequila for some water and we take this party upstairs to bed?"

"Ooh, baby, I'm just getting started," Santana laughed coldly. "Correct me if I'm wrong, Rach, but Quinn is now the second ex of yours to die on you, am I right? First Hudson, now Fabray? That's gotta be some kind of record."

"Santana!" Brittany cried as Rachel inhaled sharply, Santana's cruel words finally biting through her reserve. She put her hand on Brittany's arm to hold the blonde back and picked up her head, refusing to let her tears fall. She squared her shoulders and marched up to Santana.

SMACK

"Holy shit!"

Rachel shook her hand, her palm stinging from where she had slapped Santana's face. The Latina lifted her head and Rachel could see her handprint on the girl's face as clearly as if it had been painted on.

"Well," Santana said, a nasty smile forming on her face. "Look who finally fucking grew a pair. Good for you, Rachel, dare I say I'm proud."

Rachel lifted her foot and kicked it straight out, knocking the bottle of tequila clean out of Santana's hand and sending it smashing onto the hard ground.

"Fuck you!" Santana yelled, stepping forward and shoving Rachel's shoulders back.

"You guys, please," Brittany begged, choking back a sob.

"Brittany, it's fine," Rachel said firmly. "Go ahead, Santana. Hit me. I know you want to. I can take it. I took your shit for years in high school, when you were nothing more than a closeted bitch who took out her anger on the easiest target she could find."

"You're playing with fire, Berry," Santana said, her tone dangerous as she glared daggers at Rachel.

"No, really. Go ahead," Rachel told her. "You think I'm afraid of you? I'm not fifteen anymore, Santana. You were nothing but a bully in high school because you were scared, fucked up kid and now you're a scared, fucked up adult. Hit me. I dare you." She braced herself as she brought it home, "Quinn would have. Don't tell me you're too much of a pussy."

Santana swung her arm out, her eyes blazing with fury, but Rachel was ready for it. She ducked easily and dodged Santana's punch, stepping back as the drunk girl lost her balance and fell crashing to the floor.

"Fuck you, Rachel," Santana spat out, unsteadily pushing herself back to her feet. "Why are you even here? What do you care what happens to me?"

"I'm here because Brittany, your girlfriend who is watching you fall apart, called me scared out of her mind that you were going to hurt yourself," Rachel informed her, and she watched as Santana finally looked over to where Brittany stood at the bottom of the steps, watching them as she cried silently. "And I came because I care about you."

"Why?" Santana asked bitterly. "It's not like everything you said isn't true. How could you care about someone who would do all of that to you?"

Rachel rolled her eyes, "Santana, please. Spare me the dramatics. I love you, you drunk idiot. And I'm not going to let you do any harm to yourself just because you're having a bad night."

Santana's head shot up. "A bad night?" she said in a low voice. "You think I'm just here having a bad night?" She took a step towards Rachel. "Newsflash, Rachel. My best friend died. She was dying and she didn't tell me and she fucking died and now she's gone. So, excuse the fuck out of me if this is how I choose to cope."

Rachel gazed at Santana with sad eyes. "Are you, though?" she asked quietly.

"Am I what?"

"Coping."

Santana jerked back like Rachel's words had burned her. She opened her mouth and closed it, no sound coming out. Rachel watched a million emotions fly across the other girl's face before finally, finally, Santana's eyes filled with tears and she collapsed onto the ground, sobs wracking her entire body.

Rachel's heart broke as she watched Santana bring her knees up to her chest and bury her face in them, crying harder than Rachel had ever seen. She looked up at Brittany and signaled her over.

"Can you get your bed ready and pull out some sleep clothes for her?" she asked quietly as Santana continued to cry. "You can get in and sleep, Brittany. You did your job tonight. I'll bring her up when she's ready."

"Thanks, Rach," Brittany whispered, wiping her tears and giving Santana's crying form one last distraught glance before heading back upstairs.

As Brittany's footsteps faded, leaving only the sound of Santana's ragged sobs, Rachel carefully picked her way through the glass and took a seat beside the other girl. They sat there for a long time, Santana never once picking up her head and Rachel letting her cry.

After a while, when Santana's breaths had finally calmed, Rachel reached out and put her hand on the girl's shoulder.

Santana's hand snaked on top of Rachel's as she looked up at her at last. "I hate her," she whispered brokenly. "I hate her and I'm so fucking angry at her for doing this to me. She left me, Rachel. She promised she would never leave me but she left me behind and I don't know what to do." Tears fell silently down her face, "I don't know how to live without her.

"I know," Rachel said.

"And it's like, I can't even hate her at the end of the day, because I miss her so fucking much it makes me want to rip my heart out of my chest," Santana went on, wiping her eyes. "And I know, I know, this isn't the way to deal with it. But what do you do, when you're so angry that you feel like it will swallow you whole if you don't let it out? What do you do when your heart feels so broken it's like you don't even have one anymore?"

"I know," Rachel said again, because she did.

Santana met her gaze, her eyes tinged with regret, "Rachel—"

"Don't," Rachel cut her off. "You don't have to say anything. We can talk about it in the morning if you really want to but I get it, Santana. I truly do."

"I'm sorry," Santana whispered, her eyes bright.

Rachel put her arms around Santana and held her, stroking her hair and finally letting her own tears fall down her face as they both cried for the girl they had lost.

"I know. I'm sorry, too."


As always, thanks a million for still kicking with me, and thanks a million and one to you kiddos who have left reviews. I love y'all deep.

Hit me with requests if you've got them!