A longer chapter today: I was going to write more but since I didn't want this chapter to end up being 8k words, I truncated it.

Thank you guys for taking the time to read this, it means a lot to me. Especially the reviewers, they motivate me the most, so special thanks go to H06 and WickedlyGleeful for reviewing every chapter, as well as Robin for the very interesting stab at the storyline. Hope you don't mind the shoutouts!

And now, we're onto...

Chapter 6

Santana had felt a lot of things in her life before, but this was completely foreign. It was like being caught red-handed. She felt this weird, unfamiliar heat that was running through her head, making her dizzy and confused.

So this was the feeling she would've gotten if she had been caught in the act with Brittany.

She couldn't move. She couldn't speak. The other three were staring at her, what could she do?

She wished she had the power to turn invisible and get the hell out of there. She wouldn't mind the floor opening up and swallowing her whole either.

She didn't know how much time passed, her in that stupid stupor, fingers clenching tightly around her pen, mouth slack and gaping at the trio before her. But thankfully, she managed to find her voice before it was too late and spoke:

"What would you like to order?"

"Santana, do you work here?" This time it was Mercedes who spoke, and Santana had to bite back the temptation to snap and lash out right here and now, unleashing her pent-up frustration at the stupid question, this world and this awful situation.

Of course she worked here. Why the fuck else would she be asking for their orders, wearing some stupid ass red uniform?

"Do you need more time?" Santana said instead, avoiding any form of eye contact. "That's no problem at all," she continued without waiting for an answer. "Enjoy your drinks, and one of my colleagues will serve you when you're ready."

With that, she turned on her heels to get as far away from the trio as possible. However, she couldn't get more than five meters away when someone suddenly grabbed her shoulder.

"Wait, don't go, San…" Santana whirled around to see who grabbed her, feeling even more distressed when she saw it was Quinn who had gotten out of her seat and chased the brunette.

Quinn's eyebrows were slightly furrowed, and her beautiful hazel eyes held so much worry and trepidation that Santana couldn't bring it upon herself to wrench herself from Quinn's grip and get away.

"I-I didn't know you worked here," she whispered, biting her lower lip. "Why didn't you –"

"Quinn," Santana hissed back. "Now's not the time, okay? Read through the menu, decide what you want, and when you're ready a member of staff will come to serve you. I hope you enjoy your meal."

Santana turned back around and walked away, ignoring the calls of her name. She needed to get out of there.

She was feeling a plethora of emotions; she was feeling so many that she had no idea whether she was angry or sad or resentful… she was confused, she was screwed…

Santana shook her head and shoved the notebook into her pocket as she strode into the kitchen, just as the staff bathroom door opened and Sugar walked out, humming innocently.

Santana suddenly felt a surge of anger and changed her course of direction, marching towards the short girl who was now twiddling with the bow on her head, adjusting her pigtails.

"You," Santana growled, closing the distance fast. Sugar whipped around in alarm, and Santana could swear that she recoiled when she saw Santana gaining upon her. "Did you set this up?"

"I-I don't understand," Sugar stuttered, intimidated by Santana's death glare. "Set what up?"

"All that bullshit to force me to go to Table 14? How did you know I know them? Huh? Were you trying to embarrass me or some shit? Now I'm never going to hear the end of it, all they're going to think of me is some fucking low-tier Latina who works a dingy job!"

"I-I'm sorry if the people at Table 14 weren't nice to you," Sugar said slowly, treading ice under Santana's ire. "I really needed to go to the bathroom, that's all, I promise." Santana could swear Sugar was trembling.

Santana's anger dissipated when she saw the effect she was having on the shorter brunette, who looked beyond frightened. She shouldn't take her frustration out on the co-worker that has been the closest person to being a friend in this shitty place.

"Look, Sugar," Santana sighed. "Those people at Table 14? They were the people who I was telling you about a few weeks ago. You know, when you asked me where I went? They used to be my friends at Yale, and now they know I work here. They won't think of me the same way again."

"Santana, that doesn't really make any sense," Sugar drawled. "I mean," she said quickly when Santana sent her a withering glare. "Lots of people work night jobs when they go to college. It's not going to make them think of you any differently."

"As far as I'm concerned, none of them work night jobs," Santana wrinkled her nose. "And I'm certain they don't work two night jobs. This?" she gestured at her uniform with both hands. "Is something I want to hide from them, Sugar. Especially from Quinn. And now she knows."

"Maybe it's not a bad thing," Sugar said tentatively. "You were telling me about how you wished you didn't have to work at all a few days back, weren't you? And now your friends know, they can help you. If they're your true friends, they won't judge you or anything."

"I hope not," Santana ducked her head. "Maybe you're right. I hope you are anyway. I'm just really embarrassed, you know? Working as a waitress… isn't exactly at the top of everyone's bucket list."

"It's nothing to be ashamed of," Sugar shrugged. "Trust me. Well, I'm not ashamed of working here at least. We get money by working hard, at least we don't beg on the streets or something like that."

Santana exhaled deeply. "I guess," she conceded. "Sorry, Sugar, for blowing up on you like that. I've just been really tired and irritated lately, guess everything is catching up to me now."

"It's okay, I had it coming," Sugar smiled in relief. "That's what I get for being lazy, eh?"

"So… um, I don't really want to serve that table anymore, do you mind serving them when they order? I'll deal with the tables with numbers above 20."

"Sure," Sugar nodded.

"Thanks, Sugar."

"No worries," Sugar grinned. "Plus, I'm kind of curious what this 'Quinn' person you've been telling me about is like. I wanna see if she lives up to all your praise."

Santana chuckled. "If she asks for me though, tell her I'm busy. I don't feel like a confrontation, not now at least. Is that okay?"

"Of course," Sugar nodded. "But since I'm covering a part of your shift," she smirked. "You can hand that over to Table 27," she said, gesturing to a tray on the counter.

Santana rolled her eyes good-naturedly and picked up the tray, leaving without a complaint.

She made sure to stay clear of Quinn's side of the diner for the rest of her shift.

Santana bade farewell to Sugar as her shift ended at nearly nine in the evening. Putting a scarf around her neck, she left the diner and walked down the dark pavement.

Her heightened emotions have long cooled down and now all she was feeling was dread. Quinn, Sam and Mercedes knew, what were they going to think of her? Plus, she was knackered and wanted nothing more than to go home and collapse in her bed, but she had to get ready for another three-and-a-half-hour shift in Holliday's pub. It would be a miracle if she didn't faint in the middle of her shift.

She was taking a right turn off the street the diner was on when she could swear she heard her name being called.

Santana stood still for a few seconds, craning her ears to hear for it again, but when she heard nothing she shook her head and kept walking. She was so tired that she was hallucinating. Great.

Santana hugged her coat closer to her when this time, she heard steps that were getting louder and louder with each passing second. And this time she was pretty sure she was not hallucinating.

She whipped around, bracing herself for a potential mugger or attacker but didn't see anyone with a knife or a mask. Just the familiar mop of short blonde hair that bobbed as she ran.

"Quinn!" Santana reprimanded incredulously as the blonde caught up with her, panting. "What the hell are you doing out here so late? It's not safe to be alone."

"I've been waiting for you," Quinn wheezed as she caught her breath. "San, why didn't you ever come anywhere close to where I was sitting? I asked that pigtail lady for you so many times but she always said you were busy. But you weren't! You were just wandering around the other side of the restaurant!"

Santana bit her lip, deciding not to answer her question. "Quinn, that doesn't explain why you're walking around in the dark so late at night. How long have you been out here?"

"A while," Quinn confessed, stepping into the moonlight which illuminated half of her beautiful face. "I was going to wait for you at the diner," she continued. "We've finished our meal, but then someone came and kicked us out. I told Sam and Mercedes to go home, and I've been walking around, waiting for your shift to end."

"Quinn…" Santana didn't know what Quinn did was sweet or stupid.

"San," Quinn breathed back, stepping in even closer, grabbing one of Santana's hands. "Is this why you couldn't hang out with me tonight? Because you had to work?"

"I-I…" Santana gaped at the blonde, then ducked her head, watching Quinn's warm, pale hands over one of hers. "You weren't meant to find out."

"Why?" Quinn frowned. "You could've told me, we're meant to be best friends, no?"

"I just don't want you to think of me any differently," Santana confessed. "You don't have to work jobs that pay minimum wage to keep yourself alive, to put food on the table. And I do. It's not something to be proud of."

"It's not something to be ashamed of either," Quinn reassured, gently tracing a thumb over the back of Santana's hand, which was incredibly distracting. "If anything, I'm impressed. You have so much on your plate, and you're handling it so well."

"Not really," Santana mumbled. "I'm going to fail everything."

"I don't think so, you're too smart for that," Quinn shook her head. "So…" she said slowly, a small, shy smile creeping up her lips. "Now that work is over for you, do you want to come over to mine? Mercedes is staying with Sam tonight, we will have the whole place to ourselves. We can, you know, watch a movie together, share some popcorn? How does that sound?"

"That sounds awesome," Santana started, and Quinn beamed brightly. "But I can't."

Quinn's expression fell and Santana felt a sense of déjà vu. "Why not?" she pouted. "Do you not want to come over? I won't be offended, you can just say that if you don't."

Santana sighed and ducked her head. She considered lying, but she had hidden too much already. With how persistent Quinn was being, the least she deserved was the truth. Santana was scared of revealing everything, but Quinn deserved to know. She didn't want to keep Quinn in the dark anymore.

"I do want to," Santana said honestly. "But I can't because I have another shift in thirty minutes."

"Y-You have to work again?" Quinn stuttered. "At nine? But the diner is closing soon! I-I don't understand."

"No," Santana pursed her lips. "I have another job, it's at Holliday's. It's a pub, my shift ends there at one."

"O-One?" Quinn gasped, scandalised. "You have two jobs?"

"Yeah," Santana nodded. "And I should probably go and get changed, I don't want to be late." With a heavy sigh, Santana turned to leave.

"No!" Quinn gripped Santana's shoulder harshly, turning her right back around. "San, you can't be serious! How long have you been working two jobs? And… why? Why do you put yourself through this?"

"I've been working these two jobs since the third week of college," Santana answered monotonously. "And I don't do it for fun, Quinn. No. I do it because I'm broke."

"Broke?" Quinn frowned. "But… you go to Yale, your parents have got to help –"

"Quinn, I don't have parents anymore."

The next few seconds were eerily silent.

"Huh?"

"Quinn, I have, um, a lot of personal problems, okay?" Santana muttered. "You don't understand."

"Then make me understand!" Quinn pleaded. "Santana, please don't shut me out again. I want to help you, I really do. I care about you, Santana. When I see you sad, I'm sad too. When I see you hurt, I hurt. Please, Santana, just… let me help, please? I can keep this a secret between us if you want, I promise. You know you can trust me, right?"

"What is it about me?" Santana asked tiredly, looking at Quinn directly in the eyes. "Why do you care so much?"

"B-Because I… I li–" Quinn gulped and averted her gaze. She looked conflicted for a while, before she blinked and said, "I hate to see people sad, okay? I want to make you happy, do you know how much it hurts to see you miserable? I don't wish that upon anyone," she sighed.

Santana stared into beautiful hazel eyes that weren't quite meeting hers for a while. Quinn seemed like she wanted to say something else altogether…

"Alright," Santana cast her eyes away. "I'll tell you. B-But… please don't interrupt me while I'm talking, okay? It's as hard as it is, it's going to be like peeling off fresh skin…"

"Of course," Quinn whispered, nodding.

"So… um, first things first, I don't think I ever told you where I was from. I come from the west coast, Washington state. I told you I was going to major in Medicine at Stanford but turned it down and came here instead, but I never told you why. Well, the reason was… I wanted to get as far away from home as possible.

"I had a friend who was attached to my side since we were seven… her name was Brittany. As time went along, I started to have these different feelings for her, feelings I was sure went beyond friendship. Long story short, I finally asked her out and we dated in secret for a few years, because my father was a homophobic bastard. However, senior year was drawing to an end and Brittany really wanted us to become an open couple, because she was sick of being my secret: she wanted to hold my hand in the hallways, to kiss me in public without all the paranoia. But I told her I couldn't do it; my family were very devoted, religious Christians and would never accept a gay daughter.

"The last month of school rolled by, and Britany and I had a huge argument. She gave me an ultimatum. If I wanted her, I had to be with her, out and proud, not stealing kisses in the janitor's closet. If I disagreed, I wouldn't have her at all. I told her it wasn't fair, but she said she didn't care. She gave me a month. A month went by, and I couldn't do it. When she found I still hadn't done it, she left me and I never saw her again.

"I was too proud to believe that she had left me for real, so I held off, thinking that she would come back to me. But she didn't. So in a desperate attempt to prove myself and get her back, I outed myself to my parents. I… really don't want to go into details, but it went super ugly really fast, and they kicked me out. I was thrown into the streets with nothing but a bag of clothes. I tried to call Brittany for help, but she had changed her number. Thankfully, a friend of mine found me crying in the streets and let me stay at hers.

"It was at that moment that I decided to pursue my true interest – architecture. I had no more parents to please, I didn't have to force myself to do medicine anymore. So I came here, to Yale. I didn't have any money, however, so I found two night jobs to pay for rent and to put food on the table. I work from six in the evening to one in the morning, and I spend all my weekends sleeping and relearning the week's material, which is why I can't come to hang out with you guys, Quinn. And, um… if I am going to be honest, you're right, I am miserable. On a good day, I sleep five hours, I am falling behind in my classes and I have bills to pay on top of everything. I'm exhausted, and I can't take a break. Because if I do, I starve, everything goes to deeper shit. Easy as that. So, um, yeah, that's my life story."

Santana had to take deep breaths in the moment of silence that ensued to keep herself from crying. Revealing everything, making herself vulnerable and losing her dignity, made it feel as if she was reliving that pain all over again.

She wasn't sure she succeeded, however, because she could hear sobbing.

It wasn't until she lifted her head fearfully to see how Quinn would respond to her tale that she realised that it wasn't her who was crying. It was Quinn.

"S-San…" Quinn wept, face contorting as she wiped her eyes to get rid of the tears that trailed down the curves of her cheeks. "God… I'm so sorry, I never knew…"

"It's okay, I don't need your pity. I have enough of that in my life already."

"N-No!" Quinn said frantically. "No, I-I just feel so bad about the way I treated you… how could I have not figured something was wrong? You needed help this whole time, these p-past two months, and I was never here to help you. Instead, I got mad at you, because I'm so stupid and goddamn inconsiderate…"

"You didn't treat me wrong," Santana reassured as Quinn fell onto Santana's shoulder, soaking the fabric with tears. "If anything, you are the reason I kept going. When I feel like I'm going to die, I think about you, your enthusiasm, your happiness, and it gives me a little more energy. Enough to last me the final hours of the shift, enough to motivate me, to keep me going. So, I have you to thank, Quinn."

"I had no idea…" Quinn whimpered into Santana's shoulder. "I could've figured it out sooner so you wouldn't have to go through so much pain…"

Seeing Quinn cry was a very unusual sight. The girl was normally so happy. It made Santana want to cry herself. Was this similar to how Quinn felt when she watched Santana sitting alone in the corner of the canteen, sad and broken?

"Quinn, please, no more tears, not for me anyway, I'm not worth it…"

"You are worth it!" Quinn shouted, face flushed as she lifted it and stared at Santana straight in the eyes. "You are the strongest person I know," she whispered. "To be able to go through that for so long on top of all the pain and betrayal… I don't know how anybody can do that. You're so strong, Santana."

Santana pursed her lips and reached out to wipe away a tear from Quinn's right cheek. How Quinn could still look so beautiful when she was crying was beyond the brunette.

"Please don't go to work," Quinn pleaded. "You're exhausted, you need sleep. Is there a colleague at the bar you can get to cover your shift tonight?"

"Yeah," Santana ducked her head. "But that means he gets the money, and I need it."

"That's not a problem, I'll help you with that," Quinn said instantly. "Please, call him? I really don't want you to work until one tonight, please don't go?"

Santana sighed. "Alright," she said, grabbing her phone and dialling one of her contacts. "Hey, Noah?" she said when the boy picked up after three rings. "Do you mind covering me tonight? Something came up and I can't come to work."

"Damn, Lopez, seriously?" Noah groaned from the other side of the line. "I was going to binge this TV series… fine. I'll go to work. Only because you covered my shift last week, okay? We're even now."

"Yep," Santana said gratefully. "Thank you so much, Noah."

"No problem, Lezpez." He ended the call.

"So…?" Quinn inquired nervously as Santana put her phone in her pocket.

"He agreed," Santana replied.

Quinn sighed in relief. "Great! That's really good, you can get some rest… especially since we don't have lectures tomorrow as it's Saturday… so um, San?" Quinn asked, voice quiet towards the end.

"Yeah?"

"Please stay the night at mine?" Quinn whispered nervously. "I want to look after you. I won't forgive myself if I let you go through anymore of this."

Santana thought for a moment. "Okay," she whispered back.

"Okay?" Quinn echoed.

"Okay."

"Right, okay," Quinn smiled and held one of Santana's hands in hers. "I'll drive you home. You can sleep in the car if you want, okay?"

Santana merely nodded.

"Here," Quinn mumbled timidly as she dug out a set of pyjamas from her drawer when they arrived in her apartment. Even though Santana was extremely tired and couldn't pay much attention to what was around her, it was still noticeable how Quinn's room was incredibly tidy and clean. She also chose a nice location for her apartment – it was on a high floor so there was a nice view and it was only ten minutes' walk away from campus.

Santana looked at the light blue articles of clothing on the bed. "Um, you want me to wear these?"

"Yeah, if that's fine with you," Quinn replied, cheeks pinking. "Um, I just thought that it would be more comfortable if you wore these instead of your work clothes to bed, that's all. It's not that I'm worried you will get my bed dirty or anything."

"Oh," Santana breathed. "Did you say your bed? Shouldn't you sleep in your bed? And I'll sleep in Mercedes'?"

"You can sleep in mine," Quinn reassured. "Don't worry about it. I don't know if Mercedes will mind you sleeping in her bed but I know she won't mind me sleeping in hers, so…"

"Okay…" Santana drawled. "So, um," she looked at Quinn's set of pyjamas. "Do you mind if I change and put these on?"

"Yeah, of course, go right ahead," Quinn nodded. "I got them out for you."

"Uh…"

"Oh right, you want me to leave," Quinn's lips formed an 'o' shape in understanding, cheeks turning scarlet in embarrassment. "Sorry, I'll go… Sweet dreams, Santana. I'll see you tomorrow." She sent a shy smile before nimbly darting out the room, closing the door softly behind her.

Santana slowly put Quinn's set of pyjamas on and was surprised at how snugly it fit. But to be fair, she and Quinn had similar builds and heights, so it made sense.

It even had Quinn's scent on it. And now she was going to sleep in Quinn's bed. She was going to be smothered by Quinn's glorious smell the whole night. Santana didn't know whether to feel giddy, or to feel guilty for feeling giddy. She was such a creep.

She let her muscles relax as she slowly slipped into Quinn's bed. Her mattress was really soft and her covers were really comfortable… Santana felt her eyes drooping within seconds and she was already half-asleep.

She loved Quinn's scent. It was a faint lavender smell, with traces of vanilla on the pillow, presumably her shampoo.

It was so comfortable.

Santana felt her breathing slow and every muscle slacking when she suddenly felt a presence sticking onto her back and an arm draping across her waist.

"Hm?" Santana hummed sleepily as she shifted slightly, fitting herself more comfortably against the person behind her.

"Sorry, is this okay?" Quinn whispered from behind her, breathing pleasant hot air into the back of Santana's head. "I'll leave you to your peace if you want."

"Yeah," Santana whispered, voice barely intelligible. "Thank you, Quinn."

"It's the least I can do." The voice was getting further and further away as Santana fell deeper and deeper into the realm of unconsciousness.

She vaguely felt Quinn's face against her hair, and the soft sensation of Quinn's lips on the nape of her neck.

"Hmm," Santana hummed. "I smell…"

"You don't," Quinn reassured, placing another feather-light kiss on the back of Santana's neck. "Sweet dreams, Santana."

Santana didn't have the energy to respond anymore. There, she let herself go. And there, nestled safely in Quinn's arms, she had the best night's sleep in months.