It's nearly a year later when things finally change. Charlie's relaxing by the pool, trying not to get caught sneaking glances at Quinn who has been in a grumpy funk ever since Rachel and Brittany went to New York. It doesn't help that Santana's mad at him too, but he'll have to worry about that later. He jumps when the french doors open from the house.

"What do you boys think you're doing out here?" Russell frowns. They've been like this almost all summer, and Judy swore it would get back to normal as soon as the boys went back to school. But here it was, a Thursday afternoon a week before school started for the year, and both his sons were lounging around the pool like they had absolutely nothing better to do. He wasn't going to stand for it, not one second longer.

"Working on my tan?" Charlie admits looking at his dad as if it were obvious. All the working out he'd done all year and he was looking hot. Maybe this year he'd go with the surfer look. He points at Quinn, "And mom said that he needed sun so it's better that he's out here instead of in his room sulking now that Rachel has gone to become a huge star in New York."

Quinn frowned and flipped Charlie off, "Brittany said I could visit whenever I wanted, and when I asked if I could sleep on the couch until school started she laughed in my face and told me no! Probably has something to do with that dancer that lives next door." It wasn't fair everyone else in the family was having sex, well not Charlie and Santana anymore but still. Brittany had found her mate. Charlie had his mate living two blocks away and his mate barely acknowledged that she was his. All because he was younger. It wasn't fair.

Russell frowns but he's tired of Quinn's grim mopey attitude. No child of his is going to wallow in self-pity. They are Fabrays, which meant that Quinton needed to do whatever was possible to impress his mate. Hiding away and feeling sorry for himself wasn't going to help. These boys needed something to do. "Aren't football tryouts today?"

Charlie shrugs. "How should I know, I'm a soccer player."

"You spent all of last year on the bench and I know how well you can play. Why the hell your coach would bench his star player in the midst of a losing season is anyone's guess."

"Right." Charlie bit his lip, hoping his dad wouldn't press the issue. He had been benched because he missed nearly every practice. It was part of the reason that they were fighting, he liked soccer, and sure it had been fun to do sexy things with Santana, but she didn't seem to care that soccer was important to him. She hadn't missed a single Cheerios practice, but his soccer practices weren't that important to her. At least it felt that way.

"Which is why you're both going to try out for the football team. Santana is the head cheerleader, you should be playing football."

"Pass," Quinton and Charlie said in unison.

Charlie glances at his brother and goes back to reading his book, "I have no interest dealing with sweaty alpha's who are not Santana trying to murder me. When Santana does it, it's sexy. When other's do it? Well, I'm not interested in playing football. I like my bones not being broken and not having severe head injuries."

"It's not like Rachel is going to see me playing football, and even if she did she doesn't approve of mindless violence. She's an artist. I think I'm going to take guitar lessons or something."

"Please don't. The last thing I need is to listen to your emo music or the terrible poetry that you write. Again, if Santana was doing what you are doing right now, I'd be turned off." Charlie comments flipping the page.

"Maybe if you weren't an idiot, Santana would be over here instead of at some stupid Cheerios planning meeting."

"She's the youngest Captain in Cheerio history, so fuck off."

"Enough." Russell barked, silencing his two bickering sons with a single word. "Both of you have five minutes to get in the car. You're both going to try out and make the team."

"Dad, I don't know anything about football," Charlie tried.

"I don't care. You can be the kicker, that can't be much different from soccer." Russell dismisses. He hates that his son fell victim to a commie sport like soccer rather than focusing on something more manly. But it didn't matter anymore because he wasn't taking this any longer.

Charlie rolls his eyes, of course football is going to be different from soccer. On the plus side, the Cheerios actually attended football games, so maybe that wouldn't be so bad after all. Seeing Santana in that very revealing uniform of hers, well at least he'd have someone to stare at. "Fine whatever, at least Santana will be there."

"Isn't she mad at you?" Quinn presses and Charlie shrugs his shoulders. "Whatever, I'm not going to sit on some special team."

"Of course not, you're going to be the starting Quarterback," Russell said dismissively. He shakes his head watching as Charlie reaches for his soda. That was most definitely going to have to stop, they needed to be in peak physical conditioning.

"And just how is that going to happen?" Quinn scoffs.

"Well first, you're going to try out and do your damned best because I'm going to ask your coach and make sure that's what happens. Second, if I have to I'll buy your spot on the team. And then, we're going to put both of you on a diet. No bacon except for Sundays. You boys will be in tip top shape if it's the last thing I do." And it just might be, knowing his boys this wasn't going to be easy but he was the alpha of this family and he had to do what was best for all of them.

Charlie grimaces in disgust. "I think I might just go live with Santana."

"Again, isn't she mad at you?"

"Not mad enough to keep me from bacon." Charlie grumbled he was going to get up and kick a damn ball, he didn't need to be the specimen of perfect health.

"I said five minutes and you're both taking your time, three minutes or I dock your allowance." It was enough to get them moving and Russell smirks proud of the fact that he's gotten them to bend to his will. Now he could actually go watch his son's play a real sport. They'd thank him later.

~O~

"Santana?" Gabrielle Avery said looking at her cheer captain, it wasn't fair that she had gotten passed over for the sophomore.

"If this has nothing to do with winning another national championship Gabrielle then I don't fucking care. Coach Sylvester is demanding perfection and unless we give it to her, she's threatening to scrap the whole team and start from the very beginning. What word did she use? Rebuilding, that's it she wants to rebuild the Cheerios because apparently everyone sucks." Santana snapped at her. At least she had managed to get a few impressive routines out of Brittany before she had gone to New York. That would at least get them past Regionals, but nationals well they didn't have enough to win nationals and she wanted to rule the Cheerios until she graduated.

Gabrielle rolled her eyes, "Oh, I just thought you'd want to know that your boyfriend is trying out for the football team."

Santana pinched the bridge of her nose. Of course Charlie would do something stupid like this when everyone else around her was just waiting for her to fail. It didn't help that she and Charlie still weren't mated. Last year every single alpha on the soccer team had their eye on him and it had been all she could do to keep trying to bond with him, at least if they were having sex the other alphas would smell her claim on him. "I'll be right back." She flashes a smile at the other Cheerios and quickly gets up to go and find her mate.

She stalks quickly toward the football field, ignoring anyone in her way. She gets all the way to the track before someone stops her and blocks her path. "Get out of my fucking way." She growls, stopping only slightly when she sees that it is Russell who keeps her from her mate.

"Now Santana, I can tell that you're upset, but just watch." He holds her by the shoulders for good measure, gesturing to the field where they are setting up another ball for Charlie to kick at the fifty yard mark. He's already made nine field goals, and they keep pushing him further away. "He's a natural. I may not have to pay his tuition!"

Santana can't help but smile at the look of concentration on her mate's face. He runs up to the ball and kicks it hard, sending it flying between the goalposts with deadly accuracy. He whips around to face her, a proud smile dancing across his lips as his eyes search to find her. He is not paying attention, at least not enough to keep himself from tripping over his own two feet. He immediately extends his arms to catch himself but he lands hard on his wrist.

"Walk it off Charlie, just walk it off and pay attention!" Russell calls out before turning to Santana who was struggling to move towards him. "He's the kicker, it's the least dangerous position on the field. He'll be fine and he needs to start thinking about his future. With kicking like that he might make it all the way to the NFL!"

"I don't want him in the NFL," Santana snapped at Russell. "He's a soccer player, it's safer."

"It's a commie sport is what it is," Russell frowned. "We're American, we play football—"

Charlie sighed and jogged over to see Santana and his father, "Will you two stop arguing? It's embarrassing," he mumbles to them.

Santana turns to him and shakes her head, she couldn't believe that they were even considering this. She's about to say something when she notices his wrist is swollen and red. "Charlie what the fuck happened to your wrist?"

"Hmm?" Charlie glances down at the limb, it didn't hurt, well it had hurt when he had jammed it but it didn't hurt anymore. He shrugs, "It's nothing," he says quickly moving to make a fist to show Santana that it was indeed nothing except he winces in pain. "Ow."

Santana freezes, and quickly moves to gently inspect the wrist smacking Charlie's leg when he tries to squirm away. "Okay, we're going to the hospital."

Russell rolled his eyes, "It's probably a sprain."

"That's not a sprain, he fractured his damn wrist playing this stupid sport, so we're going to the emergency where my dad is going to X-ray the damn wrist and make sure that he's okay."

Charlie crinkled his nose, "I'm fine Santana—"

"This is not fine."

"If the boy says he's fine then he's probably fine," Russell said dismissively.

"The boy is terrified of hospitals. Of course he's going to say he's fine. So he's going to the hospital to get checked out. So come on Charlie we're going to the hospital."

"But—"

"No buts! What were you thinking trying out for the football team!" Santana lecture.

"I was perfectly happy sitting at home working on my tan, but this is fun. I get to kick the ball and no one is trying to kill me! The alphas all have to protect me and because I'm an omega they all feel that urge in a way so I'll probably be fine."

Santana freezes and feels her mouth run dry. He shouldn't need another alpha to protect him. Was this why they hadn't been able to mate? Because Charlie liked the attentions that the other alphas gave him. She shakes her head, swallowing down the bitter pang. There are more important things to worry about right now, like whether Charlie's going to need surgery for his wrist. "We're going to the hospital." She declares with finality. "Because even if you decide to be an absolute moron, you can't play if it's broken."

Russell rolls his eyes, but has to agree. "Come on, I'll drive you two."

Charlie frowned Santana was mad at him again and he hadn't even done anything wrong. He scratches his head and gently nudges her. "Okay, but you have to tell your dad no needles." He jokes but Santana doesn't seem amused. He sighs, she was always mad at him these days. Quinton and Brittany said it was because he was an idiot but he didn't feel that way.

~O~

"See," Charlie said poking Santana with the pen that he'd been given. "It's just a simple fracture, no big deal and your dad gave me a sucker! And all of his stickers!"

"Because he thinks you're a child," Santana grumbles as she fluffs his pillows for him making sure that he was comfortable. Of course he didn't see it as a big deal when it was. He had gotten hurt playing football, maybe not directly but he had never hurt himself playing soccer. In fact he had sat on the bench safely the entire time.

"Maybe, but it doesn't matter. I got stickers to decorate my cast and you have to sign it Santana," Charlie held out the marker for her again waving it a bit. "Come on. You just need to sign your name so I can get other people to sign it when I get back to school."

Santana rolled her eyes, but slid onto his bed with him taking the pen away from him, "What would you do without me?"

Charlie leans in and gives her a kiss on the cheek, "Probably listen to a lot of emo music like Quinton and complain that the world is against me because my mate moved to New York." Charlie watched as Santana wrote 'Property of Santana Lopez' on his arm. He crinkles his nose at the choice of words but decides to leave it alone. Instead shifting his body and pulling Santana closer nuzzling her.

It's enough to make Santana relax and she runs a hand along his knee. "You need to be more careful," she murmurs kissing his jaw. "I think I was about ready to fight your dad to make sure you went to a hospital. You're lucky you didn't need surgery."

Charlie groaned and shifted on his bed, glancing at his door, well his parents were just downstairs, but a little dry humping never hurt anyone right? He quickly moves his broken wrist out of the way and allows Santana to straddle him, when he realizes something terrible. He was soft. Santana's presence generally made him rearing to go and his mind was certainly willing but nothing was happening. "Santana," he mumbles desperately keeping his voice down lest his parent hear.

Santana narrows her eyes a bit glancing down and then back at Charlie, "What?"

"I think my dick is broken," Charlie mumbles back blushing brightly. "What if I broke my dick?"

Santana pauses for a moment and shifts a bit backwards so she can take a look, sure enough he was soft and she glances up at him. He always did look adorable when he was distressed, "Do you want me to call my dad?" Charlie nods quickly flushing and Santana reaches for her bag. It was embarrassing and she knew she was going to get chewed out but she pauses upon seeing the yellow bottle on Charlie's desk. He was on rather strong painkillers despite the fact that he probably didn't really need them. "Charlie, you're high."

"No I'm not! I've had like one pill!" Charlie insists.

"Well you're on drugs, maybe that's why?" Santana suggests.

"Oh—that makes sense." He makes a face at this and leans his head back against the headboard. "Well can we make out? I'm a football player now and you're a cheerleader it just makes sense."

Santana hesitates for a moment wanting to remind him that he wasn't ever going to be a football player after today's incident when he pouts. It's her damn kryptonite and she rolls her eyes straddling him once more and presses her lips against his. If he wanted to have that fantasy it was alright with her. It was after all just a fantasy.