AN: Hey! So I'm kind of an idiot and should definitely not try to upload stories on half a bottle of wine and too little sleep. I deleted the last two chapters and am re-uploading them in the proper order. Thanks to my kind reviewer who pointed out the mix-up.

And if you already read the chapters and something seemed off in the timeline, my bad. I hope you'll read again. ;)


Aunt Rachel wasn't even mad in the first place, so Ily didn't really see the point of apologizing. But with her Mami standing over her with one eyebrow raised expectantly, Ily knew she should go on with it. She cleared her throat and avoided Rachel's kind brown eyes, instead picking at some nonexistent lint on her tee-shirt.

"Sorry, Aunt Rachel," she said in a voice that was somewhere between a murmur and a grumble.

"Oh, sweetie, it's fine," Rachel started, but Santana spoke over her.

"I don't know about you, Rach, but I don't speak mumble. Try again, Iliana."

Iliana huffed out a breath and shifted her weight from foot to foot, embarrassed that she had an audience for a forced apology.

"I'm sorry," she said, enunciating more carefully, but this time her words came out with a sharp edge that had Santana's eyebrow shooting up even higher in warning. Heeding it, she hurried to add: "For um, earlier. For being um. You know. Rude, and stuff."

Santana opened her mouth to offer another critique, but Rachel shushed her by waving a hand in her direction and approached Ily. "I accept your apology, sweetheart," she said. "Thank you. And I'm sorry too."

Iliana was surprised, and it showed on her face as she met Rachel's eyes for the first time. "What are you sorry for?" she asked.

"Yeah, what are you sorry for?" Santana repeated, but Rachel didn't even spare her a glance.

"You were right, Ily. I was overstepping my bounds, acting like I was another mom to you, and I know you have two amazing ones already. It's just that I've known you your whole life and I love you and … I guess sometimes I don't realize how strongly I come across. Or so I've been told."

"Whoa, hold up a second," Santana interrupted. "First of all, since when are you so self-aware? And secondly, please do not tell this child that it's okay to be mouthy and disrespectful to an adult just because she doesn't like what they have to say. She's a kid, you're not, she can't talk to you like that. Period. Iliana Marie, you're lucky Aunt Rachel is a pushover, because I'm telling you, if you tried that crap with me…"

Iliana's eyes widened. "I don't have a death wish!" she said in such a scandalized tone that her Mami actually cracked a smile. Rachel stepped forward and dropped a kiss on top of Ily's head. "Now, can we eat dinner, finally? I made meat for you guys. Meat."


Iliana woke from a nightmare in which she was lost in a crowd. She kept seeing flashes of blonde hair ahead of her and she was almost sure it was Mama, but every time she almost got close enough to make sure, someone stepped in her way, pushing her back into the crush of bodies.

She was halfway down the stairs, her heart pounding and tears stinging her eyes, when she heard Mami and Rachel's voices. Something in their tones made her stop in her tracks, and she sank silently onto one of the steps to listen. From her angle halfway up the staircase, she could just make out the two women sitting on the couch, an almost-empty bottle of wine on the coffee table between them. Mami's knees were drawn up underneath her, her hair was tousled like it got when she'd been running her hands through it, and she had—Iliana had to blink several times to make sure she was seeing what she thought she was seeing—yes, tears streaming down her cheeks. Rachel's voice was soft, soothing, but when her Mami spoke, it was scratchy and heavy with emotion. Iliana wanted to go to her, to climb up next to her and hug her and make the tears stop, but instead she just kept, well, eavesdropping.

"…not even going to hear me out, and it's so unlike her, you know? To be so unforgiving? I mean she couldn't hold a grudge if it had handles, Berry, so why is she doing this to me? To us?"

"Santana, I know it's not my place to get involved, but if you would just let me talk to her, maybe I could…"

"What? Save our marriage? Please."

"Not what I meant. I just think that you guys need some kind of unbiased third party. Someone who loves you both and who doesn't have any preconceived notions about what each of you should be doing differently."

"Are you kidding me? You're unbiased? You. Rachel, you've seen me at my utter hellbitch worst; don't tell me you don't think I'm somehow to blame for this garbage fire that was once my marriage."

"It's not over."

"She moved out."

"She just needs space."

"Away from me? Away from our daughter? What the hell even is that? Where does she get off running away like that?"

"See, that right there. The anger is what you keep falling back on, Santana, and it's not doing you any favors. When you talk to her, you lead with it. I've heard you. She's avoiding it, she's avoiding you, not because she doesn't miss you and love you and want to talk to you but because she's not ready to deal with what's underneath your anger."

"Oh my GOD, Berry, spare me the pop-psychology bullshit, okay?" Santana swiped at her eyes, leaving smudges of mascara where the tears had been.

"Am I wrong?"

"About what? Am I angry? Hell yes I'm angry. I have a right to be."

"But it's not solid anger, is it? It's mostly hurt. Confusion. It's the same thing Ily's dealing with, and you clearly aren't letting her anger call the shots. Why does yours get to?"

"Look. This isn't about me. This is about Brittany. Her betrayal. Her abandonment. She left me here holding everything together. Holding Iliana together, and I can't even do that right without her."

"You need her."

"I need her to get her shit together and come home."

Rachel stood up from the couch and Iliana prepared to run back up the stairs to the safety of her room if she needed to. But Rachel only leaned down and gave Santana a kiss on the cheek, gently pried her fingers from around the empty wineglass she was holding, and said in an even lower voice, "Then get your shit together and figure out a way to fix this."

"Hey, where are you going with that? I was about to open another bottle."

Rachel's musical laugh sounded from the kitchen as she walked out of the room. "Not on my watch, Lopez."

Ily held her place for a few minutes more, but Rachel didn't come back and Mami didn't move except to occasionally dab at her eyes with a crumpled, makeup-stained napkin. She suddenly felt like she was spying, even though technically she had been doing so for a good ten minutes. But seeing her fierce and tough and strong and powerful Mami so vulnerable, so broken, and without anyone at her side, it made Ily feel sick deep in her stomach, or maybe in her heart. She scooted backwards up the steps on her butt, slowly so she didn't make any noise at all.

They couldn't go on like this. And if Aunt Rachel was right, then Iliana's mothers weren't going to fix this on their own, without a little assistance. Under the covers, she closed her eyes and tried to formulate a plan.