A/N: Writing Rachel bromances are so much fun! Also, I promise that next chapter will be full of action. Well, at least it's planned to be. XD

Also, a big thank you to G6-flying for the best name for Finn ever. Hope you don't mind me using it!

The heat in her football helmet was unbearable. Sweat and makeup was dripping into her eyes, and she wondered for the umpteenth time why they had decided to keep the masks on. Melting zombie was gross, not scary. Unable to wipe her eyes with the back of her glove due to the awkwardness of the face mask, she figured she had to make peace with clenching her eyes shut and blinking furiously when she was off the field, forcing her eyes open when she was on.

"Hey, how you doing?" Puck plunked himself down next to her on the bench, the shoulder of his uniform bumping into hers.

Pushing him back, Rachel tilted her head so she could look at him from under the helmet. "As to be expected," she offered noncommittally. Her leg still hurt, and the rest of the team minus the gleeks and Jackson seemed to hate her.

"That good, huh?" Puck studied her.

"You could say that."

He stretched out his legs. "Understandin' any of the plays?"

Rachel averted her gaze, dropping her head. "Not really… Not yet. Pointing in a random direction and telling me to go there seems to be still working the best. I just wish – " She sighed, shaking her head. It wouldn't achieve anything, complaining.

Puck bumped her shoulder again. "What? No, what?"

Really, Puck was being uncharacteristically helpful. No wonder she couldn't shake her on-and-off crush on him. Looking over the field, watching the defensive team doing… Whatever it was they did and evidently succeeding at it, Rachel lowered her voice, not wanting to be seen as a whiner – which she certainly was not, "No one trusts me. I'm open – I know I am – but no one but you or Sam or Mike seem to be acknowledging my place on the field. How can I help that way?"

"And Finn's being a total douche," Puck added, and Rachel nodded sadly. That was another thing that bothered her. He'd been willing to include her before the half-time performance, but now, with the reappearance of the rest of the team, he was caught in some kind of weird guilty state of mind where he would send her beseeching looks but throw to everyone that wasn't her, even if she were open and they were not.

Not only did it hurt as an ex-girlfriend, but as a female as well, and was even starting to affect her ego. "He's the quarterback, isn't he?" she crossed her arms, jutting out her chin, "Then why isn't he acting as one?"

"My question exactly," Sam grumbled, dropping into the open seat next to her. "I was the quarterback until I dislocated my shoulder. But that was months ago. So why is he still quarterback?"

"Mmm… I don't like to talk bad about my bro, but it is kinda whack," Mike offered critically, coming up behind them; trying to crane her head up and back enough to look at him, she gave up when she could only catch the barest glimpse of him due to, once again, her helmet.

Bringing her head forward again, Rachel couldn't help but smile. "Though I know this is in avid support of my new membership into the Titans, which would heighten your negative thoughts beyond mild annoyance, I appreciate your words. They are, in fact, helping. Finn is being obnoxiously mulish."

"Heyy," Puck held up one hand to give her a knuckle bump, "Look at you, calling him an ass! Right on."

"No, Puck. That wasn't… Oh very well. Here." Grinning despite herself, Rachel bumped his knuckles.

"Ey, I'll get in on that," Artie grinned broadly as he wheeled up, five cups of water barely balanced on his lap. Handing them out, he gave the last one to Rachel, only relinquishing it when she gave him a knuckle bump of his own. "Awright girl, that's how we do it!"

Rachel giggled, warm affection welling up inside her. How was it that joining the football team seemed to have also gained her, if not friend-friends, some form of acceptance? It felt…

It felt nice.

Unhooking her chinstrap, she gratefully took a deep gulp. Draining the rest of the water, she wiped her mouth and then looked down at the cup. "Alright, guys, I'll take your cups," she smiled at everyone, "We don't want to litter now, do we?"

With an assortment of eye rolls and shrugs, Puck, Sam, Mike, and Artie handed her their cups, and she stood up. Giving her leg a shake and experimentally putting her weight on it, she relaxed when it didn't protest more than usual. She nodded decisively, "Thank you! Now, if you excuse me, I'm going to head for the nearest trash can."

"Exciting," Sam said under his breath, and she paused to stare pointedly at him. He raised his hands in mock surrender. Smiling, Rachel shook her head, and turned back towards her goal, feeling particularly triumphant that he had smiled back.

Though the trash can wasn't that far away, she still had to shoulder her way through a couple groupings of unrelenting jocks, some who actually seemed to be stepping into her way instead of out. Forcing herself to keep a pleasant expression on her face (even if they couldn't see it that well through her helmet …which she was beginning to think she could actually take off, seeing Azimio and Karofsky with theirs off), she finally reached the trash can. Tossing the cups and letting herself feel some accomplishment, she was just about to make her way back to the bench when a hissed, "Rachel," hit her ears.

"Huh?" Turning around, Rachel opened her eyes as wide as they could go before the burning of the makeup bothered her too much when she recognized a group made up of Tina, Quinn, and Santana, leaning over the railing that separated the bleachers from the track. Taking a quick glance at the field and seeing nothing that would tell her she would be needed soon, she strode as quickly, non-limply as she could over to them. "Hi guys!" she beamed up at the still zombified girls, "What brings you here?"

"How are you doing?" Tina asked, looking back and forth from her and the field, pausing to smile at her.

Her leg and eyes hurt. Finn was being a stubborn… Mule, making her feel useless. But, regardless, she was having an odd sort of fun. "Great," she called up, shrugging slightly.

"Great." Quinn quirked her eyebrow, Santana smirking and crossing her arms next to her. "Sure looks like they're valuing you, hobbit," Santana tilted her head.

"That's Finn's fault," Rachel grumbled.

"Yeah… I'm actually not surprised." Resting her chin on her hand, her elbow balancing on the railing, Quinn shrugged. "Are you?"

Blowing air out of her mouth, Rachel slowly shook her head. If she was honest, she wasn't. "No…"

"Finnconsiderate's good at underwhelming, hmm?" Santana started before mimicking Quinn's position, "Are you just going to sit back and let him steamroll you? God knows it wouldn't be too hard, seeing as he's the Jolly Green Giant and you're barely taller than a six year old, so maybe that's not surprising, either."

Rachel narrowed her eyes at the arrogantly smirking girl. "Why do you care so much?" burst out of her mouth before she could censor herself. But once she'd said it, she forged ahead. Crossing her arms, she tilted her head enough to meet Santana's eyes, "No, really. Why do you care?"

If it wasn't her imagination or somehow misinterpreted, Rachel noticed Quinn smirk and mutter, "Ohh…" under her breath, Tina turning completely to watch her and Santana instead of the game.

Santana regarded Rachel emotionlessly. Eyes smoky with the dramatic makeup from the half-time show, nails tapping her cheek, the girl finally straightened, "Time to go back to Fraggle Rock."

What…? Frowning, Rachel opened her mouth, but a large gloved hand dropped onto her shoulder, and Sam was pulling her back towards the field. "C'mon," he tugged her faster; Rachel struggled to keep up, her calf protesting. It wasn't his fault, as he didn't know, so she didn't bother trying to interrupt him even if it wasn't very comfortable for her, "We're about to go on."

"It's the offensive team again?" she asked, feeling smug when jocks who had moved into her way earlier now almost backpedaled with Sam in front of her.

Sam nodded. "Yeah. Offense. With Finn, though. He's going to make us lose if he keeps ignoring you!" He stopped when they rejoined Mike, Artie, and Puck standing ready at the sideline.

…Sam really believed in her that much? Instant tears pricked at Rachel's eyes, but she knew there was no way she would be able to cry them. Not now, and certainly not when her eyes were already burning. Looking up at the tall boy, Rachel beamed and squeezed his forearm. "Thank you, Sam," she got out throatily, "That means a lot to me."

Sam shrugged, smiling lopsidedly. "Thank me by kicking some ass!"

"Yeah!" Rachel cheered, pumping her fist into the air.

A loud whistle pierced the air, and suddenly Coach Beiste was yelling at them to get on the field. Shoving her mouthguard back into her mouth, rehooking her chinstrap, and accepting the growing excitement of getting swallowed up into the game again, Rachel hoped against hope Finn would put his ego away and let her play. If she could get egotistical (which she could), Rachel knew that they were only holding onto their lead tenuously, and without her doing her improvised wide receiving, there was no guarantee they would keep it.

Taking a second to scan the field and bleachers, Rachel had to smile when she caught sight of an excitedly waving blonde who had joined Tina, Santana, and Quinn at the railing. Lifting a hand to wave back, Rachel chuckled when Brittany stepped up her waving, Santana snapping out a hand to stop her flailing. If she had known, years before, what joining the football team would have done for her and what it seemed to be doing to her relationships, there was no doubt she would have done it before now. …Granted, that wasn't very realistic, but it was a nice thought.

The noise quieted as everyone jostled into position, and Rachel set her jaw. Meeting the eyes of one of the opposite team's jocks, she stared at him determinedly. Didn't matter he was triple her size, she knew she could outrun him.

And outrun him she did.