Title: Just A Girl (4/10?)
Author: Race122VE (Coll)
Pairing: Santana/Brittany
Rating: R (mostly language, then violence and some semi sexiness as the fic goes on)
Summary: "But…you're just a girl." Glee AU fic.
Word Count: over 4k
Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.

Chapter 4

The night before, Quinn had insisted on picking Santana up and driving her to school, even though footing it hadn't really been a problem anymore. When she pulls up, Santana hops in and gets a good look at Quinn.

To a casual observer, Quinn looks like perfection. To someone like Santana, who has walked in Quinn's shoes and knows the tight ship Sue Sylvester runs, Quinn looks like complete and utter shit. However, she'll probably just take a verbal lashing because Santana plans on telling Sue about what happened last night.

Well, except for the getting drunk thing...Coach doesn't need to know about that. Sue (along with , she supposes) does, however, need to know about Quinn knowing even though she wishes she could keep that a secret, but there's already enough secrets in her life.

"Hey."

Quinn groans in response, pushing her sunglasses further up her nose. "Too loud," she croaks out as she looks back at Santana. "Didn't you break your nose last night?"

Honestly, she had forgotten about that. She flips down the mirror and brings her hands up to poke at her nose. "Huh…yeah…healed pretty good."

"So…on top of everything, you heal really fast?"

Santana smirks in response, "Yep…that means no hangover." She also ignores Quinn's muttered 'bitch' as she pulls out of the driveway.

They ride in silence for a bit, and it's kind of awkward. They didn't really say much after she walked Quinn home last night. Well, by the time they finished the bottle it was more like Santana stumbling while dragging Quinn home, but she didn't know what to expect now that someone normal, someone close to her, knew that she had this fucking destiny.

She stares straight ahead, watching the world go by and feeling pathetic about the situation. This whole time, all she's wanted is for someone to know, someone to talk to. Now she's worried about telling Coach and Mr. Schue, she's worried about what Quinn's going to say or if she's going to ask to help, and she's worried that the wrong kind of person will find out what she is and that Quinn knows and…

Santana drops the thought, not wanting to think about it and stamping the rest deep down.

Plus, Quinn's looking over at her every five seconds and it's distracting. "What?" she snaps, eyebrows raised.

Quinn shakes her head and becomes very interested in focusing on the road (which she really should be because she's fucking driving) "It's weird…not seeing you in your Cheerios uniform."

"It's freeing," Santana tells her. "You know, you never really appreciate jeans until you're forced to wear that fucking uniform ever fucking day."

"Rub it in, why don't you?" Quinn shoots back.

They fall into another uncomfortable silence. Santana's still worried about what Quinn's going to say about everything and, while she's glad someone does know, she kind of wants to just pretend like it never happened.

Of course, Quinn has a different idea.

"You know, we never really went over what it is that you…" Quinn gestures her hand in the air for a word but lamely settles on, "Do."

"I told you all that before we got drunk."

"You told me about the…"

"Vampires," she supplies when Quinn doesn't continue. "Jesus, Q, just say the word and stop treating it like it's Voldemort or something." Quinn arches an eyebrow. "Yes, I've read fucking Harry Potter, whatever…"

Quinn lets it slide, probably because of the hangover, but Santana will take what she can get. "What I meant was that I want to know about what you can do. Like…obviously you're strong and you can heal quickly…"

"That's it, really," she responds. "And, I can sense things…I don't know, nothing too exciting."

"So…that's it…there's nothing else to tell?"

The way Quinn asks is unsettling to Santana. It's too knowing, but the only other thing she's keeping from Quinn, from anyone, is her feelings about Brittany. There's no way Quinn could know anything about that, so she lies, again, "That's it."

"Are you going to tell Brittany?"

"No," she answers quickly, maybe a little too quickly with the way Quinn eyes her as they pull into the school's parking lot.

Once Quinn parks and kills the engine, Santana's out the door and practically running towards the entrance. Quinn's hot on her trail, though, and still being just as persistent as ever. "Why not?"

"What's the first rule of Fight Club, Q?"

"Don't…talk about…Fight Club," she replies slowly after a moment of thought, confusion laced in her tone.

Santana nods, "And what's the second rule of Fight Club?"

"You know, I wasn't really paying attention when you made me watch-"

"Do not talk about Fight Club," Santana cuts in. "Slaying is the same way, the same rules."

They reach Santana's locker and she angrily whips it open and gathers what she needs for the morning while Quinn furrows her brow, confused, "What about all the other rules, like…the no shoes and shirt thing…?"

"Ugh," she groans loudly. "Look, I'm already going to be in enough shit once Sue and Schue find out that you know. Not talking about this, to anyone, is the most important thing about being the Slayer. It's the best way to keep the people I care about safe. So, no…I'm not going to tell fucking Brittany."

"Tell me what?"

She slams her locker door shut, revealing Brittany looking sad, confused, and kind of adorable, but she can't focus on that right now. She feels Quinn stiffen next to her but can't tear her gaze away from Brittany.

Right about the time she realizes how stupid it is to just stand there staring and saying nothing, Quinn pipes in, "Santana and I ran into each other last night."

She whirls around angrily at Quinn who jumps back a bit, but continues to address Brittany, "It was, um…" she pauses, trying to compose herself because she's starting to tear up and Santana is officially confused. "It was at the cemetery. Because of, you know…yesterday…"

Brittany lets out a surprised gasp and, before she can fully understand what's happening, the blonde had wrangled both Santana and Quinn into a weird, uncomfortable group hug. Santana manages to catch Quinn's eye, and she winks before letting tears run down her face and using Brittany's shoulder to wipe them clean.

That sneaky bitch, but Santana just kind of loved her a little bit more.

Although, there was a slight nagging in her mind from using the thought of Quinn's dead mom and her dead beat dad, but this is a secret she has to keep from Brittany.

They all kind of pull away from each other, but she can't help but notice the warmth of Brittany's hand pressing against the back of her own unintentionally. She looks down and can't help but lose her concentration from the jolt that touch sends throughout her body. It's very hard to concentrate on anything else.

Her mind does wander a bit when she watches Brittany's hand grab Quinn's and squeeze.

Brittany was kind of at a loss when the whole death/abandonment thing happened. Her infectious, cheery disposition dampened significantly and she never knew what to say. Her family was, for lack of a better word, perfect. Her parents were high school sweet hearts, went to the same college, then on to having amazing careers in the medical field, all the while bringing up three gorgeous blonde daughters (Brittany is the middle child, but there's no trace of middle child syndrome).

Like she said, perfect.

There was no way she could grasp the idea of death and having a parent want a different family than the one they already started. Santana and Quinn may have gotten a lot closer during that time, but Brittany was always right there beside them, head leaning on one shoulder while her hand firmly grasped the others.

It was what she did best, she was just there, and to Santana and Quinn it was everything.

"Are you guys OK?" she asks before shaking her head. "I am so sorry I forgot…"

"It's OK, B," Quinn jumps in because Santana is still distracted by the small touch of their hands. "I didn't really bring it up to anyone this year. Santana just kind of stumbled upon me."

"You should call me, next time," Brittany says, but now she's looking at Santana. "Maybe we could do something tonight," she suggests, her face lighting up at the idea. "Watch a movie, eat ice cream, and you guys can sleep over…like we used to…"

Santana has to look away, but she makes the mistake of looking at Quinn who looks open to the idea before seeing Santana's face and realizing that doing something normal like having a sleepover can't happen anymore. She shivers when Brittany moves her hand and crosses her arms over her chest, pouting at Santana.

"You two…should definitely do that," she says nodding at Quinn and avoiding Brittany's eyes at all costs. "And, I wish I could…there is no way in hell my mom is going to let me."

"It does sound like fun, Britt, I'm in," Quinn says, crossing Santana and grabbing Brittany by the elbow. "We should get going, though, or we're going to be late for practice."

Quinn spares her a glance filled with sadness and understanding and Brittany's looking back with the same disappointment she's been looking at her with for weeks.

She's never hated herself more.

"I'm sorry," she mumbles as they head in one direction and she flees in the opposite.

xxxxx

It's just like she predicted.

They all had a free period before Glee and Santana had decided to tell Mr. Schue and Coach about Quinn, then all fucking hell broke loose.

Sue started screaming, Mr. Schue started screaming that she should stop screaming, and Santana sits with her arms crossed over her chest, rolling her eyes at their display of poor…watching.

"Something has to be done," Sue keeps repeating over and over.

"There's nothing we can do," Mr. Schue argues back. "We're just going to have to adapt, just like we did when The Council asked me to help with Santana."

"Sue Sylvester does not adapt to anything. The situation should adapt to me," she says. "And I say we send Quinn Fabray far, far away-"

"Sue-"

"Fucking enough!" She's on her feet, fists clenched at her sides and enjoying the way both of her Watchers flinch at her outburst. "There are more important things to worry about now…like missing students, the fact that we're all still fairly new at this and the vampire count has been rising."

Coach makes a move to say something and Santana rushes on, turning on Mr. Schue, "You said it wasn't going to be like this. That it wasn't going to be like when Figgins made Coach Sylvester co-runner of Glee, yet here you are yelling at each other. How the fuck is this going to work if you can't handle just one Slayer?"

They all stop and just stand there, catching their breaths, calming down, and Mr. Schuester puts on his 'I'm a good guy' cap and softens. "You're right," he admits lowly. "And…none of us have had any experience with this and we have to stop taking it out on each other."

"We also have to stop being disobedient," Sue directs towards Santana.

"What was I supposed to do? Let Jacob kill Quinn?"

Sue's about to answer, and judging by her face she's probably going to say something about the greater good and people being expendable but, thankfully, Mr. Schue cuts in, "Look, what's done is done. We can't change it now. We just have to keep doing what we've been doing." He turns to Sue with a determination in his eyes that Santana has never really seen before. "You're the trainer. You deal with making sure she's prepared physically. That's your job. I'll take care of Quinn. That's my job."

"I won't tell anyone."

Three head spin towards Quinn, who is half hiding behind the door frame of the choir room. Santana notices how she's trying to be strong, be Quinn Fucking Fabray, but she knows Quinn better than that. She knows how scary this whole thing really is, especially since she hasn't really talked to her about it. She just hopes Coach doesn't really pick up on this, though, Sue Sylvester knows all.

"Sorry about butting in," Quinn goes on when no one acknowledges her, fully stepping into the room and crossing her hands in front of her. "I know this was supposed to be a secret, and I know why…I get it...but I think this is going to work out better in the long run."

"You don't know the first thing about any of this," Coach spits out, followed immediately by Mr. Schue chastising her for speaking in such a way to a student.

They weren't really that, though. Students and teachers. They were four people who knew about this other world. Four people who now shared one common goal. Four people that just wanted to help make the world a better place.

"I just think..." Quinn pauses, her mind searching trying to search for the right words, for a convincing enough argument to appease Sue, before continuing to spill her guts. "People have noticed that something is…different about Santana. I've noticed. I think me knowing, I think her having someone to talk to is just for the best.

"And, if I can somehow make this easier for everyone…why the hell not?"

This time, three heads turn towards Sue Sylvester. They all know that she's the one they really have to convince. Because Mr. Schuester may be disappointed, may think that things would be better if Quinn never found out, but Santana knows that he wants to make this as easy for her as he can.

Before she can respond, he beats her to it, "You're absolutely right Quinn. You could probably help me out with a lot of research…but we don't want to force you to do anything-"

"You're not," she assures them. "I want to help." She says, turning to Santana and smiling, "Any way that I can."

It's one of those mushy moments that Santana fucking hates, but she can't help but smile at Quinn.

Thankfully, the bell rings and the hustle and bustle of the end of school begins to fill the halls. Sue turns to look at Santana and she sees the displeasure she has towards the situation. "I want you in the gym for training five minutes after you're through wasting your time with this pathetic excuse for a club," she barks out, then turns to Quinn. "And I want you to make sure that everything is set up for practice tomorrow."

It's the only power Sue Sylvester has right now, and she's going to cling to it with everything she has.

Before anything else can happen, Rachel Berry marches into the choir room, undeterred by the four of them standing in the room and walking straight up to Mr. Schue. "Mr. Schuester, I had some things to go over before Glee Club starts," she says, trailing off a little bit when her eyes wander around the room and Santana knows she senses the tension.

Sue stalks out, throwing another sneer their way and smacking the stack of books out of Kurt's hands as he enters with Mercedes. Will shakes his head as Kurt and Mercedes bend down to pick up the books before nodding to Rachel, "Sure, hang out in my office and give me a sec."

The small girl looks angry at not being made a priority, but obeys none the less. Will motions for Quinn to step closer as he walks up to Santana. "I know this is going to be a little hard at first, and I plan on talking to Sue about the way she treats you two," he assures them. "We just have to take this one step at a time, keep our heads on our shoulders and all that. We can talk more tomorrow about it all, and Quinn you can come if you want."

"Thanks Mr. Schue," Quinn smiles and he sends one back to both of them before heading into his office to be, most likely, bombarded with a hundred suggestions from Rachel.

She sits down on the piano bench and Quinn looks over at her. Already, Santana can see the support and whatever motivational shit she's about to spew out and cuts her off before she can get started, "FYI, we're not going to talk about what just happened. I appreciate it, whatever, but I would just like things to be fucking normal right now and not be all sappy and shit. I don't think that's too much to ask."

"OK," Quinn agrees as she sits down next to Santana. "Scott asked Brittany out on another date."

Santana literally bites her tongue at this, so hard that she starts to taste blood.

"She said she was going to think about it," Quinn continues, knowing full well that Santana is ignoring her. "I'm sure we'll be talking about it tonight."

"Bummer I have to miss it," she quips bitterly.

"You know," Quinn begins and Santana already hates her, even though moments before she couldn't be happier to have her as a friend. "If there's something else you've been hiding-"

"There's not."

She closes her eyes at the obvious denial, but it's such an instinctual reaction that the words were out of her mouth before she even thought of them.

"You told me about what you really are, Santana, and I'm still here," Quinn reminds her. "There's nothing you can tell me that will make me turn my back on you."

"I seem to recall requesting that we cut back on the fucking sap."

Everything is still so fucked up.

Just when she thinks she has a leg up, that life is going to cut her some slack, something new comes along and it feels like any progress that was made never existed to begin with. She can see Quinn out of the corner of her eyes and, she looks pissed, but still weirdly warm and friendly.

"Fine, no more sap," she says evenly, and Santana prepares herself for whatever verbal bitch slap Quinn has planned. "I'm going to be your friend and tell you the honest to God truth."

"Really?"

"Really," she repeats. "You need to get over your daddy issues, your abandonment issues, just deal with them and move on." Santana tries to cut in because she's gone from zero to fucking pissed in no time, but Quinn is on a roll. "I'm not trying to imply that you weren't dealt a crappy hand, S…I'm not and you were. Do you think you're the only person in this world that ever got a crap deal? Sure…you've got a lot more to deal with, but you and I both know there's something else going on and…

"I mean, aren't you pushing enough down as it is?"

"You know you should just shut up about shit you don't know anything about," Santana warns. "I can't change this. It's my fucking bullshit destiny, and that's how it is. It's dangerous, and no other Slayer has lived passed their twenties. That's my reality. That's what I think about all the time so, yeah, I push everything else down. What the fuck else am I supposed to do?"

All the anger and intensity slips off of Quinn's face. "You ask for help," she says simply, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "But…I know you, a lot better than you think I do. So, I know it's going to take time for you to get that concept, and I know you're going to keep pushing…but I'm not going anywhere."

Then, of course, the thing that they're both really talking about walks into the room, her blue eyes drawn over to the two of them. Brittany's timing has always been like that, and sometimes Santana will entertain the idea that Brittany has known everything, all along, and was just waiting for Santana to find her moment.

"It's never coming," she mutters, low enough for Quinn to inch forward and raise her eyebrows in question.

Santana just shakes her head. "You should go sit with her," she suggests, watching as Brittany drags herself over to the top of the risers and plops herself on to a chair in the back corner.

When Quinn doesn't move, she becomes more insistent, "Look, you said what you had to say. You're not giving up on me, blah blah blah…just go fucking sit with her. She looks like someone ran over a duck or something."

Quinn smirks. "You know I've been talking you up," she says as she rises to her feet. "I know things are way different now, but you should try to put in some effort to live up to what I've been saying."

She's walking away chuckling before Santana can even think of something to say. Quinn's not gone more than ten seconds before Puck plops down on the bench, leaning his body into hers. "Sup, babe?"

"Please tell me your not serious right now," Santana sneers, pushing back and mumbling a curse when she forgets her strength and nearly knocks him off the bench.

"What the fuck is up with you?" he retorts, sitting so that he's purposely not touching her and gripping the bench. "Still on bad terms with the duo part of your trio?"

"We're fine," she responds dismissively.

He laughs, "Yeah…you and Quinn have been chummy today. Then there's Brittany-"

"There's a lot going on," she says defensively, but catches herself. "Wait, why the fuck am I even participating in this conversation? What do you want?"

"I was just wondering how it felt to be one of the normal people?" he asks conversationally. "Well…I'm being nice when I call you a normal person considering what other people are saying."

She tries not to be so interested, because once she decided to quit the Cheerios she knew her social stock would plummet. Curiosity manages to win over sane reasoning in this case, "What the fuck are people saying?"

"They're calling you a delinquent, freak show, basket case, crazy bitch," he lists off, counting them on his fingers. "There's more, but those are my favorites."

It's something that she expected, but the names still slice through her. Santana had experience acting like she didn't give a shit about what other people thought, so she put that to use. It was a lot easier, however, to not care about what people thought when you were on top.

"Thanks for the update," she says, trying to feign disinterest. "You can go sit over there now and try not to light anything on fire."

"Not so fast, sexy," Puck laughs. "I was just thinking that we could hang out later, stir some shit up. You've got this reputation whether you like it or not, might as well have some fun with it."

It's kind of tempting. She's entertained the idea of what it would be like if Puck knew and, other than the sexual comments he'd be bound to make, she doesn't think it'd be half bad. Then Santana realizes that he was talking about sex when he shoots her a wink and waggles his eyebrows.

"You can fuck off now."

She looks away, but makes the mistake of looking up to where Quinn joined Brittany. Brittany has her head down, talking about something she can't really make out, but Quinn is sending a death glare her way.

Well, her direction.

"So…Quinn still hates me."

"Everybody hates you," she quips before noticing his tone.

Turning back she sees the slump in his shoulders, the slight pout in his lips, and the way he's shaking his head. "Why are you so upset about it?" she questions suspiciously.

"I'm not," he fires back. "Do you want to hang out later or not?"

Santana furrows her brow. "I told you to 'fuck off' then that 'everybody hates you…'"

"Yes or no?"

"Please don't make me hit you."

Luckily for Puck, Rachel leaves Mr. Schuester's office looking confident and pleased with herself. Mr. Schue, however, looks like he never wants to go through that ever again.

"OK guys," he starts off after a deep breath. "We got Regionals coming up but we still have a couple more songs to pick out so I want everyone to bring suggestions and arrangements..." Mr. Schue keeps going on, but Santana is too distracted to pay attention.

It's not like she really has to pay attention anyway. There's no way she's actually going to have time to think of something, and they'll probably just end up using one of Rachel's things anyway. Plus, she can still feel Brittany looking over at her.

Once she notices Brittany watching her, all she can think about is that Scott guy asking Brittany out again. Then that leads to the two of them falling in love and riding off into the fucking sunset and other horrible images she can't shake out of her head.

The anger she's feeling is so irrational and stupid, but its building up inside and her patience is starting to wear thin. She has no right to feel this angry, she knows that, and there's nothing she can do about it.

That's the worst part.

So, she stands up, slings her bag over her shoulder, muttering something about not feeling well and the bathroom as she exits the choir room and then the school.

Santana knows she's going to get flogged at training, but she kind of can't wait to fucking punch something.