Chapter Sixteen


Santana opened her eyes the next morning trapped in a quiet, contemplative state. Her breathing slow, deep and unchanged even when Quinn nudged her as she rolled over in her sleep. Yesterday evening her dad had pulled them inside and introduced them to his husband Pete, who was all smiles and nervous chatter and had offered to get them a drink. Santana's mouth had quirked in a small smile as she watched him ramble on and fuss over the two yappy dogs that came from nowhere. Her skin still felt tight around her cheeks from all the crying, the smile only making the feeling all that more obvious to her. She didn't mind though. Happy tears she could do.

"This one's Tiny," he'd said, his cheeks rosy from embarrassment, "and this is Tim."

"Oh," she'd replied, pleased that she wasn't the only one feeling a little flustered.

"Pete, put them in the lounge, they're jumping all over the girls."

"Yes, dear." Pete then did the one best things to ingratiate himself into Santana's good books, he raised his eyebrow behind her dad's back and gave her a cheeky smile that could rival her own. "Go easy on him, he's getting old."

"I heard that."

Pete had grimaced and quickly left the room so that it was only Quinn, Santana and Santana's father, Jaimé. But Santana had seen that quirk in his lip and the look in his eyes. She wondered if that was how she and Quinn looked to others when they teased each other, both exasperated and hopelessly in love.

"How was your trip?"

Santana and Quinn shared a look.

"Eventful, huh?" He chuckled.

"It was fun, it was also a pain in the ass… both literally and figuratively." Santana had added, shooting her girlfriend a smile. Her brows furrowing only a moment later when she realised that Quinn had barely said a word since arriving.

When Jaimé excused himself for a moment Santana saw it as her chance to ask, "What has you shy all of a sudden?"

Quinn pursed her lips and shrugged, Santana reached out to tug at the material of Quinn's top to pull her closer.

"Cat got your tongue?" Santana smirked, pecking Quinn on her cheek.

Much to Santana's amusement, Quinn shrugged again. It might've worried her if she couldn't read the look in Quinn's eyes. Maybe she had been a little nervous before and that's why she'd been quiet, but now she was just teasing and it was funny to see Quinn, who normally seemed so sure, act all demure.

"That's okay," Santana began, tightening her grip on Quinn's clothes, her voice low and even, "I'll help you find it if you like."

The playful eye roll and, "Shut up," she got in response made her kiss Quinn again.

The evening had been spent in jovial familiarity that, until that moment in time, she thought she'd never find with those outside of her immediate family. Then again, she supposed Jaimé was her dad and Pete, well he was Pete. Cracking jokes every other sentence, sharing looks with Jaimé and encouraging him to speak when he fell into nervous silence. She liked Pete a lot and her dad wasn't too bad either. A joke she'd made to the table that had hushed the pair for a moment. And a moment was all it was, her dad thankfully finding the humour in it and giving her a warm smile.

Pete had been telling the story of how they'd met when she glanced at Quinn and saw her staring at her plate. Santana had tapped her under the table with her foot and for a moment Quinn was unmoved, lost in a world of her own. Another tap and she was looking up, eyebrows raised in surprise. The smile she flashed not quite reaching her eyes.

When they'd gone to the guest room that had been beautifully set up by her dad and his husband for them to stay in, Santana had tried to figure out what had Quinn all tied up. The other girl was taking things out of her suitcase at a molasses pace, her mind clearly elsewhere.

"Quinn," Santana had started, her voice quiet and steady. But Quinn didn't hear her. "Quinn," she repeated.

"Huh?" The other girl looked up, a flash of confusion passing over her features. "Yeah?"

Santana walked to the opposite side of the double bed in her modest-sized room and perched herself on its edge, hand reaching out to run along the zip of the opened case.

"Is something bothering you?" Quinn shook her head. "Do you regret coming here with me?" Quinn's confusion returned.

"What?" She dropped the shorts she had in her hand to cross her arms over her chest. "No. Why'd you think that?"

"Well, Quinn, it just seems like you don't want to be here."

A derisive laugh fell from Quinn's lips, "I didn't just travel five full fucking days to regret it, Santana."

Santana's spine had gone rigid, hurt by Quinn's dismissal. She thought they could talk to each other, trust each other. She hated that she wanted to cry. Maybe it was exhaustion, maybe they both just needed to sleep it off. Maybe that didn't matter because she still felt her eyes burn and throat tighten.

Stricken by Santana's glassy eyes, Quinn dropped her arms and made her way around the bed to sit next to her girlfriend.

"Of course I don't regret it, San," her voice full of apology, she took Santana's hands in hers and pulled them into her lap. "I'm just tired, I guess a little grumpy too. I'm sorry I haven't been myself." Quinn attempted a reproachful smile, the dark circles under her eyes now apparent to Santana.

"Don't be sorry, I just… I just worry sometimes." Santana closed her eyes, a sudden rush of sorrow washing over her. "I love you, Quinn."

Quinn lifted Santana's hands to her lips and kissed them softly, "I know." Releasing one of her hands she used a finger to lift Santana's chin, smiling crookedly at her before kissing her. "I love you too."

With one last kiss, Quinn stood to pick up her suitcase from where it still sat on the bed and dropped it to the floor, tossing the duvet back immediately afterwards to climb under it and pat the space next to her.

Crawling further onto the bed, Santana lay beside Quinn and took one of her hands and held it to her chest.

"My dad said he's taking us out tomorrow. Pete's coming too and so are the dogs," a breath of a laugh escaped her. "The little shits."

The corner of Quinn's eyes creased in amusement as she looked into Santana's eyes, "Come on now, you barely know them. Give Tiny and Tim a chance."

"Do I have to?"

"No, but-"

"I knew there'd be a but-"

"But, they might grow on you anyway." Quinn nudged her whole body forward so her face was mere inches away from Santana's. "Like you with me."

Santana scoffed and playfully shoved Quinn onto her back, glad to have the other girl laughing again. "You're so mean to me."

"I am so not. If anything it's the other way round."

"Oh my god, shut up. I'm probably the nicest to you out of everybody I know."

"That's not saying much."

Santana scoffed again to stop herself from laughing and pushed herself up to straddle Quinn's midsection. Grabbing the other girl's wrists she pinned them above her head. "Take that back."

"Or what?"

"Or I'll bite you."

Quinn stopped her half-hearted struggle against her restraints. "What?"

"You heard me."

"What are we talking here?" Quinn's lips slipped into a smirk. Bucking her hips to push her body against Santana she asked, "A hard one?" Another jolt. "A big one?"

Santana took a steadying breath at the twinge she felt between her legs, clamping her thighs tighter around Quinn's sides. "Stop."

Quinn bit her lip and tilted her head, "Stop what?" She preened as she mimicked the action once more.

"Quinn," Santana gasped, tightening her hold on Quinn's wrists.

"Kiss me."

And she did.

"You're already awake?" Quinn's voice jolted her back to reality.

"Yeah," she smiled, fully turning into Quinn to run the tips of her fingers down her bare back.

Quinn and Pete had been chasing Tiny and Tim down the beach when Jaimé stopped to pick up a shell. Santana had hung back with him, unwilling to go running for no reason whatsoever. She'd done enough of that for a lifetime, thank you very much.

"How're you girls settling in?"

"Good, we finally unpacked everything this morning so that's one less thing to do."

"Got a long list?" Mirth danced in his eyes.

"Huge," she joked.

He chuckled softly. "I'm glad you're finally here. I know we've missed a lot of time, but I hope this means that doesn't have to be the case anymore. You still have so much time left here, but I wanted to tell you as soon as I could that you're welcome here anytime. Whether you get sick of Ohio or the New York winter is too much of an ass-kicking or you just fancy a break in the sun, you can come here."

"To visit you too, I suppose," her words were playful.

"Ah, yes. Thought I was missing something," as were his.

They walked together for a long while before Quinn and Pete came rushing back over, Quinn's cheeks a shade pinker and Pete's forehead a little wetter.

"They're fast." Quinn panted.

"Regretting quitting Cheerios about now?"

Quinn laughed, "Not quite."

The four of them continued their walk on the beach, other couples passed them and Santana got a thrill every time she saw a gay couple walking leisurely together, heads thrown back in laughter, contented smiles on their faces, hands linked and swinging between them.

Her eyes darted back to her dad and Pete, the way Pete had his arm over her dad's shoulder, his other hand waving a stick double the size of both dogs put together. God they were so gay, Santana thought to herself.

Awesome.

...

Santana screamed as Quinn chased her down the beach. They'd been in LA for two weeks now and everything had been perfect.

From the lunches with her dad and Pete to her day trips and lazy days with Quinn. Even the time she begrudged spending with the yappy little dogs as all of them took them on walks was enjoyable. All of it was a release after her final year at McKinley.

Quinn had completely relaxed, her sour mood from the beginning of the trip having ebbed away into mush, her smiles came more freely and the life in her eyes, when she came across something new and exciting, made Santana's own smile appear. LA looked good on her. The sun, the sea, the escape. It had injected Quinn with an energy Santana hadn't seen from her girlfriend in a long time. It took it coming back for her to realise it was missing in the first place.

"It's just a bit of seaweed," Quinn called after her as she kept running.

"I don't care, it's gross. No, no. Keep it away," She squealed as a laughing Quinn pretended to throw it towards her as she dodged around her girlfriend.

"I'm kidding. I'm kidding," Quinn placated, tossing the handful of seaweed on the sand, her hair windswept and smile wide.

With her hands on her knees Santana caught her breath, her heart still racing and hair caught in the sea breeze.

"Hey, Jack!" A shout from further down the beach drew their attention.

"Oh look, a puppy," Quinn cooed, crouching down to greet the little dog that had come racing towards them.

"Jack!" The owner yelled again, only for the dog to completely ignore her for the belly rubs and attention Quinn was giving him.

"He's fine," Quinn greeted the owner as she got close enough, a crate of beer in her arms and lead wrapped around her wrist, "he's so cute."

"He has his days," she replied with a look of adoration towards Jack. "I'm Jane, by the way. I live just down the beach there," she said with a nod of her head. She looked to be in her early thirties at most, her skin beautifully dark and sun-kissed, her laugh lines deep and a lightness in her step. Santana was immediately enamoured.

"Oh, really? We're almost neighbours, my dad lives over that way," Santana said, pointing in the other direction.

Jane's eyes widened, "Oh no, have we met before? I'm so sorry, my memory is so bad!"

"No, no, you're good," Santana laughs, a little too hard, "I'm here for the summer. It's my, our, first time here actually."

"Oh wow, how exciting," Jane took a moment to regard the two girls and seeming to decide on something nodded to herself. "I'm actually having a beach barbeque in a couple of hours if you guys fancy coming along, your dad is more than welcome too. We'll be out 'til sunset, the more the merrier."

Santana and Quinn shared a look, coming to an agreement without one word spent.

"Sure," Quinn agreed from her spot next to Jack. "We'd love too."

"Great! See you later, girls." Jane smiled, whistling to get Jack's attention, "C'mon, you little devil." Jack wagged his tail despite the nickname and went along his way, hot on the heels of his owner.

"Does Santana have a little crush on her neighbour?" Quinn sang as she stood, wiping the sand off her knees.

Santana scoffed, "She just seems cool."

"You sure were eager to tell her where you lived," Quinn continued to tease, continuing down the beach so Santana couldn't see her grin.

"Oh my god," she whined, "shut up." With Quinn's back to her, she rushed up behind her with an open palm, primed and ready to go. "You're all the woman I need, baby," she said, punctuating the point a solid smack to the ass.

Quinn, of course, yelped in surprise, turning on her with her mouth agape. "That hurt," she complained, hand now covering the offending warm spot on her backside.

A flash of panic passed over Santana's features, "Oh shit. Sorry."

"You know what this means, don't you?"

"Kiss it better?" Santana tried with a charming smile.

"Not quite," Quinn said with a smirk.

"What then?"

"I'm a wounded party, I don't think I'll manage to walk all the way back," she sighed dramatically. "I guess you'll have to carry me."

"You're kidding."

"Nuh-uh, baby. Turn around," she said with a spin of her finger, hopping onto Santana's back.

"This takes me back," Santana said as she hooked her arms around Quinn's thighs and began her way back to her dad's.

"What?" Quinn asked with an amused lilt.

"To when we were little and we used to play that game. You were a princess and-"

"And you were a knight?"

"No," Santana begins to laugh, making it harder to carry Quinn, "I was a horse!"

"You were not," Quinn's laughter made her shake against her back.

"Always the horse, never the princess," she sighed.

"Oh come on," Quinn rested her head next to Santana's, "you liked showing off how strong you were."

Santana bit back a smile, "Maybe a little bit."

Quinn kissed her on her cheek, "Always showing off."

"I can't help that I'm so amazing."

"No. No, you can't," Quinn agreed, kissing her again. "Wait," she said as she felt Santana strain after carrying her for so long. As soon as Santana stopped she hopped off her back and offered her own. "My liege," she prompted.

"What are you doing?"

Quinn rolled her eyes, "It's your turn to be a princess, dumbass."

"Oh," her surprise evident in her voice. "I-"

"I know you like riding me so I don't know what's taking you so long."

"Quinn!" She laughed, approaching to wrap her arms around her neck and jump up.

With ease Quinn carried Santana the rest of the way, only stopping once to see if she could carry her whilst dizzy. After spinning on the spot for ten seconds, she urged Santana to hop back on, making the other girl cry with laughter as the first step they took resulted in sand on their faces.

Later that evening they went to Jane's barbeque and came to learn she had a wife. Santana had beamed at the new information, eager to tell Jane that Quinn was her girlfriend and that she was a lesbian too. She'd never met an older lesbian before, never mind a lesbian couple. Not to put too big a label on it, but it was kind of life-affirming.

She could imagine a life like this for her and Quinn, both established, living by the beach, all sun, sand and charred meats.

Throughout the summer, they'd continue to visit Jane and her wife with Jaimé and Pete, meeting their friends and people they considered family. It was jarring just how open they all happened to be.

Quinn had never met so many well-adjusted adults in her life.

Some she had even to consider her friends. They listened to her and didn't dismiss her; they wanted to know what she had to say. It was a foreign feeling, but a welcome one.

It was at one of Jane's parties that she had a chance to speak to a gallery owner who looked about as old as time but had the spirit of a child. He laughed at the most inane of things, yet had such a wit that he couldn't have been completely mad.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"You just did," he said with an impish smile.

Quinn looked at him pointedly, making him chortle in surprise. He raised his hands in surrender and nodded for her to continue.

"How did you know that you wanted to be a gallery owner?"

His brows furrowed at the question.

Leaning back in his seat he regarded Quinn with more seriousness than he ever had before, "I didn't."

"You didn't?"

"No. In fact, I started out as a climate activist. Back then it was called being a hippie, but I had a cause."

"But you love being around art don't you?"

He laughed. "I do, but I don't own a gallery because I love art. I own a gallery because I had the means to support the kind of art the world needs to see." He sat forward, elbows on his knees, "My purpose on this earth is to act, to change the bigger picture, but I'm not superman, I can't do it all in one night and I certainly can't do it alone. So I do my bit. I go where I'm needed and go from there."

Confusion settled over Quinn, "But what if you don't know your purpose?"

"What's your name?"

"Quinn."

"Quinn, it took me a long time to realise this and I know you're about to damn kick yourself when I tell you it." He took her hands in his, they were warm and wrinkled. "I chose my purpose. Hell, my purpose ain't even anything special. I've had more dreams than I've had hot meals, I just do what makes me happy. And what makes me happy is being a patron of the arts in my old age. Ain't I fancy?" He let her go to slap his knee and laugh at himself.

"I guess," she replied.

"After all that you guess?" He let out a low whistle. "Think of it this way. Everybody might seem like they're achieving their dreams, getting into college, getting jobs, getting married. Whatever. But where they think they're going ain't gonna necessarily be where they end up. So I say you're lucky. You've got the world at your feet and no commitments to speak of."

"Lucky? Yeah okay, old man."

"Old man?" He barked a laugh. "I like that."

She raised a brow, "What's your actual name?"

"Old Man."

Quinn ignored him to go and fetch herself a glass of wine, a glass of wine that turned into a couple as she sat with Old Man next to the fire pit as the small party continued into the night.

"I do have commitments."

"Huh?"

"I have a girlfriend."

"And you love her?"

"Yes," Quinn said without hesitation, her gaze drifting to Santana who was in deep conversation with Pete. "So much and-" her words suddenly caught. A lump forming in her throat. "She's going places. Going where she's needed like you did."

"Oh, I see." Old Man said. A small silence passed over them both as Quinn cried quietly into the sleeve of her jumper.

"What if I've just found my place? What if the place I want to be, for the first time in my life, is not the same place as hers?" She sobbed, careful to hide from the other party guests' view.

"Well, I'll tell you this. I can see that she means a lot to you, that you love her a lot. But you can't live for somebody else without compromising a part of yourself. A part that I'm sure she must love in you like you love all of her." Quinn listened, heart heavy, mind racing. "And I don't think a love like that is lost so easily. Time, place, distance, list them all. They make love harder, but don't destroy it. So maybe you're not in the same place in your lives right now, but that doesn't mean that will always be the case."

"I think I understand."

"Good, because I've already forgotten what I just said," he joked.

"Thanks," she laughed weakly through the remnants of her tears.

She looked toward Santana once more and sighed.

...

Summer was coming to a close and it was time to head home. Santana stood before her dad and gave him a soft, grateful smile.

"I've loved it here."

"I can't tell you how happy I am to hear that. It's going to be strange with you two gone after all this time."

"Don't miss me too much."

"I can't promise that." He opened his arms. "Come here will you."

Santana held her dad and breathed in deeply, as though it would absorb the moment. She'd really miss him too. "You too," she heard him say over her head and she peeked behind her to see Quinn walking into the kitchen.

Quinn slipped easily into the hug and Santana committed to treasuring the moment even more so.

Sat in the car, set for the journey back, it was Santana who hung out of the window waving like a madwoman as Quinn put the car into drive.

"Bye!" They both yelled and Quinn beeped the horn and began their long trip home.

Santana sat back in her seat, hair mussed, much like Quinn's was that morning that felt so long ago and felt herself grinning from cheek to cheek. An hour later, that grin had long since gone. Replaced by a small frown as she watched Quinn out of the corner of her eye, watched as her fingers gripped restlessly at the steering wheel and answered Santana's questions with half-hearted mumblings that told Santana that something was not right.

She thought Quinn had been feeling better, more at ease with life and with herself.

Had she missed something?

They pulled into a gas station and Santana said nothing, not daring to ask Quinn something she didn't want to know the answer to. Instead, she took in their surroundings. The dusty vastness of an out-of-town, roadside stop with no more than two petrol pumps, a single car that must've belonged to the clerk, and not a soul else.

They sat like that for a few minutes with the sound of the car's radiator cooling filling the silence between them before Santana couldn't take it any longer. "I'm going to get snacks. Do you want anything?"

But before she could get further than one foot out the door, Quinn said, "I don't want to leave, San."

"Huh?" Her stomach dropped.

"I- I can't go back."

Santana pulled her foot back inside and sat heavily against her seat, the dry heat of the early morning already biting at her skin.

"I don't," she shook her head against the headrest. "I don't understand."

"I can't go back to Lima."

"If you're joking just know this is the worst joke ever and it's not funny."

"I'm not joking."

When Santana turned her head towards Quinn her eyes were already brimming with tears and her jaw clenched a few times before she spoke. "I don't get it. We're going to New York, Quinn. You can't stay here."

Quinn tipped her head back to compose herself, turning her whole body in the seat so she could face her girlfriend. "You're going to New York. I'm, I'm going nowhere. I didn't even apply for college."

A flash of surprise passed over Santana's face, a flicker of shame followed. How could she have not known? Her mind scrambled over the new information. "It doesn't even matter. You can still come. You can still come and be with me."

"I don't want to." The devastation on Santana's face barrelled into Quinn's chest.

"What?"

"That came out wrong. I love you, I can't tell you how much I love you," she choked. "But I don't want to go back to Lima. I don't want to go to New York. And I didn't apply for college because, because I." The pain in Santana's eyes forced her to cast her gaze down to hands that clenched restlessly. She couldn't for the life of her find the words to describe the hollowness in her chest, the anxiety she felt every time she thought of home. No, not home. Lima. Her mom. Her dad. It all made her sick. She shook her head and swallowed.

She was on the precipice of adulthood with no direction to speak of.

It felt oppressive in Lima. That feeling. That fact.

But here? Here it was liberating.

"Do you remember that beach party about a week and a half ago?" Quinn asked, but kept her head dipped. "Well, that was the night I decided to stay. I didn't plan on this. I didn't think, 'oh hey, let's really ruin this whole thing for Santana'. But that night, I was speaking to Old Man by the fire and I was a little drunk, just spilling my heart out y'know? Having a bit of a moment and he just turned to me and said something like, you're young, if it's the real deal, which it is, you'll find each other again and it made sense. Everything he said made so much sense."

"What the fuck, Quinn? Why are you listening to some crackhead you don't even know when we don't have to find each other again? I'm right here," Santana's voice strained against the words, "I'm right here, fuck." She was quiet for a moment, staring at Quinn who wouldn't meet her eyes. "Look at me," her voice was hoarse with tears, "please." With some reluctance, she did. "If it's home, let's skip it. I'll ask my mom to send my stuff. We can go straight to New York. Please, just tell me what I have to do and I'll do it if you're with me."

Quinn slowly shook her head, "I can't. Not even New York. Where you'll be, where you'll kick ass. Rachel will be there, so will Kurt. All of you living your dreams, going to college and being successful. It's just too much. And I know I sound like such an asshole. Like who the fuck doesn't go to live with their girlfriend and her friends in a city like New York? But it'd be you guys living. I'd just be there, a loose end with every reminder of my old life with me."

"Old life?"

"There's no history out here, San."

"You can't run from your past, Quinn."

"I'm not running. I'm starting afresh."

It all felt like a losing game and it had begun to dawn on Santana that Quinn might actually not be leaving with her. Her chest ached with the weight of the realisation.

"I'm not listening to this," she snapped. "I'm going to go and get us some snacks and when I get back we'll just head home. It'll be fine. We'll sort this out." Quinn opened her mouth to speak but Santana lifted her hand to stop her. "Don't," she said as she rushed out of the car and into the back of the store where Quinn wouldn't be able to see her.

She crouched behind the aisle of snacks and hugged her knees to her chest to will herself to stop crying and compose herself.

"Are you okay?" The cashier asked, leaning around the counter.

Santana shot up, making the guy flinch. "Yeah, yeah," she wiped her cheeks with an embarrassed smile. "Sorry." She snatched up a few things in front of her and quickly paid, leaving the store only to find Quinn standing over by the gas station's sign.

Tossing the food in the car, Santana made her way over to her to stand side-by-side, letting the sun beat down on her and settle her some before she confronted it all over again. It all felt so surreal. Like a nightmare. She was sick of this shit.

"I haven't changed my mind."

Santana clenched her jaw, "You're being so selfish."

"I know."

It made Santana's hurt twist into anger; it wasn't what she wanted to hear. None of it was.

"Fuck this," Santana spat, twisting on her heels to storm back to the car, determined to ignore the bile in her throat.

Quinn watched Santana stride over to the car as her hand itched to reach out for her. She didn't feel she had the right to tell Santana anything anymore.

Santana flung open the car door, a cloud of dust left in her wake. Quinn waited with bated breath for Santana to climb inside, slam the door and speed off. But when it became obvious that Santana wasn't going to move she felt compelled to slowly approach.

Santana's head was hung low, her hand gripping the top of the door. As Quinn got closer, she could hear sobbing. Her own tears began to spill over at the sight. At the sound of her own choked tears, Santana lifted her head in her direction, eyes red and face contorted with pain.

Quinn was only a few feet away, so when Santana ran at her and pulled her into a fierce hug, they almost toppled over with the force.

"Please, Quinn."

"San, you're going to New York and you're going to kill it. I'd just bring you down.

"You wouldn't."

"I would. Please. I love you and if you love me, just let me go." Quinn knew her words were unfair, but she didn't know what else to say.

"But I don't want to, Quinn."

"I know."

"I can't believe this," she mumbled against her shoulder.

Pulling back, Quinn cupped her face, wiping her tears with her thumbs, her own eyes glassy and red. "If I don't do this I think I'll regret it for the rest of my life. It sounds dramatic, and hey, maybe it is. But San, I've never felt so. So liberated and free."

"But New York could be that for you."

"And watch everyone but myself thrive and succeed? There's nothing for me there, San."

"I'd be there."

Quinn choked on her tears, her mind still made up, "I know and it hurts so bad that I'm doing this to us. But San, I have to live for myself."

"So this is it?"

"For now."

"Don't give me hope, Quinn. What if I never see you again?"

"You will. I know nothing is ever for certain, but I have to believe it otherwise this whole thing wouldn't be worth it."

There were too many what-ifs to even argue with Quinn. The look in her eyes told her no matter how many Santana threw her way she wouldn't budge.

"I love you," Santana said, as much a plea as it was a declaration.

"I love you," Quinn repeated, her heart heavy, her words as much an apology as the words themselves.

With one last kiss, Santana put every bit of herself into showing Quinn that she loved her and would always love her.

Through the rear-view mirror, she saw Quinn shrink the further she continued to drive, every part of her telling her to turn around, hogtie Quinn, and drag her back to Lima.

Her eyes still lingered in the mirror despite not being able to see Quinn anymore, the pressure behind her eyes making her head ache as much as her heart.

About five miles in she pulled over, turned the engine off, and just sat.

For how long she wasn't sure, but by the time she brought the engine back to life, the sky was grey and a few heavy droplets of rain pelted the windscreen. A few became many within minutes.

It felt like some kind of sick joke. Of course it would pour down the moment she wanted to keep going.

A new wave of tears hit her, the sound of her sobs drowned out by the rain.

"It's not a competition," she cried, as though the rain could hear her. Despite her tears, the crack of thunder that followed managed to make her choke out a wet laugh.

Impeccable comedic timing, she thought bitterly through her growing headache.


A/N: 😬... thanks for reading! Haha.