Author's Note Wow, the response to this story has been overwhelming! Thank you to everyone who read! This chapter contains spoilers for Grilled Cheesus. I blocked out most of the episode, so I don't remember who said what to whom, nor do I care. In this story, Santana and Sam didn't say anything to Kurt one way or the other regarding his atheism. Please remember that this is an AU, so while I'm incorporating some elements of S2 canon, I'm ignoring or changing others entirely, e.g. Sam and Quinn broke up before Rachel's party, but not in this story. Hooray for AUs! There's also more character bashing (Blaine, Finn, and Mercedes).

Santana went on autopilot as she navigated her car towards her house, mind racing with the night's events and what would happen next.

She knew that when morning and sobriety arrived, Kurt's phone would be blowing up with calls and texts from his friends, all offering pseudo-support and condolences over Blank's indiscretion, all while ducking any responsibility they might have for not sticking up for him when it counted. In fact, to her knowledge, the only one who had ever done so was Sam, and they barely knew each other. She had the idea that Studly Do-Right was a major Pollyanna, but she had the feeling she could trust him. More importantly, that Kurt could trust him.

She could already hear the arguments of the others in her mind.

Mercedes would coo and henpeck at Kurt's broken heart and in the next breath scold him for not taking action prior to the kiss and for leaving with Sam and Santana rather than coming to her, despite the fact that she had witnessed everything but was too busy eating to interfere. Mercedes was a good friend but she was also bullheaded and believed she was always right, and that others' opinions shouldn't be taken into consideration.

Jones was very possessive of Kurt and her protectiveness was often smothering. Santana knew that she herself could never stand to call someone as suffocating as Mercedes her best friend. Jones treated Kurt like a child more often than not, a foolish boy who didn't understand himself or anyone else. She was strangely myopic about his abilities. She would concede his singing talent and flair for fashion but otherwise viewed him as though he were an adorable pet who needed training. It was pathetic, considering how unsophisticated Mercedes herself was.

It was actually really fucking weird, because Santana believed that Kurt was one of the wisest people she had ever known. How the hell did Jones not see this as well?

Not that Santana knew him all that well, but she had observed him carefully and she listened when he spoke. He was very interesting and his bitchy, caustic remarks were as humorous and they were compelling. So, no, they weren't friends, but they understood each other, at least as far as motivations and worldviews were concerned. And because she had watched him so closely, she also came to understand quite a bit about Mercedes Jones.

Jones was extremely passive-aggressive and easily threatened when it came to others orbiting around Kurt. She would smile, nod, and encourage him, only then to undercut his self-esteem and confidence subtly until he would eventually capitulate and entrench himself even more fully at her side. She became jealous and vindictive when he expressed an interest in someone or when someone was interested in him; that busted windshield was the perfect visual aid.

Santana wondered what Mercedes had said to Kurt about his crush on Finn, as well as his desire to sing with Sam. She imagined they had fought about both. It was always easy to tell when Kurt and Mercedes quarreled. Kurt's sarcasm about her wardrobe would take on epic proportions, whereas Mercedes would completely freeze him out, leaving him utterly alone. The very simple truth was that Jones was capable of great cruelty when it suited her.

Mercedes initially hadn't liked Blaine and had resented his insertion into Kurt's life, and thus into her own. She would see his kiss with Rachel as the perfect opportunity to drive a permanent wedge between Kurt and Blaine, conveniently leaving her to pick up the pieces. There was the added incentive of exacerbating Kurt's rancor toward Rachel, which would also call a halt to the fledgling friendship they had begun earlier in the year. Not that Rachel hadn't done that herself by kissing Blaine, but Mercedes would egg on Kurt's hate.

Santana had to admit it was pretty diabolical. It would also probably work, because Kurt's one constant blind spot was Mercedes. He leapt to her defense like a true warrior, and while she always had his back in public, Santana was willing to bet it was an entirely different story when they were alone. As much as Kurt proclaimed himself an honorary girl, as well as he understood that women could be petty and catty and self-serving, it probably never entered his mind that it was also true of Mercedes.

She suspected Mercedes' worst nightmare was that Kurt would find a woman just as strong as she herself was and replace her, so Santana planned to do exactly that.

And to get up close and personal with Hummel's dick, at least as much as he would allow.

Part of the appeal was that she would be going where no woman had ever gone before, but it wasn't like it would be a chore. Hummel was a seriously hot piece of ass, and if he was receptive to her in any way, no matter how small, she was going to seize the opportunity. The fact that Dwayne thought Kurt unsexy only cemented his idiocy in her mind. She knew girls who would gladly queue up if they thought they had a shot at Kurt Hummel, and once he was out of this hellhole, the boys would be beating down his door.

Hudson would also be a problem. For some reason she didn't understand, Hudson had the uncanny ability to manipulate Kurt; Finn knew it and took advantage of it. She didn't know if it was some stupid leftover guilt for the way he had acted when he was crushing on Hudson or if Kurt truly believed in all of that Brady Bunch bullshit his father and stepmother were expecting of him. If Mercedes was a blind spot, Hudson was a soft spot. Jesus, she could only hope Kurt didn't have some lingering love for that bumbling live-action Magilla Gorilla. Hudson wasn't even that hot! And she ought to know, after all.

Hudson would try to play the brother card while simultaneously shifting responsibility to Kurt himself; after all, it was Kurt who had introduced Blaine into their little circle. Hudson always sought to blame others for his own failures. He would conveniently forget that he was the one who had lied to Rachel, that he was the one who had dumped her for kissing Puck. Yet he blamed Santana for their night together, as if she had seduced him when he had been a very willing participant. All she had done was make an offer; she hadn't forced him into anything.

She wondered how Finn would spin his reunion with Quinn; how he would justify the fact that he had vilified her last year for cheating on him and yet now he was the one cheating with her; that everything Puck had done to him he was now doing to Sam. Quinn's bitch reputation would be upheld; her actions in reclaiming her former boyfriend while sandbagging her nemesis would be lauded. Hell, Santana herself would have applauded her if Hudson had been worth anything. Evans would get totally shafted. There would be initial sympathy given to him as the wronged party, but it would dry up soon enough and he'd be regarded as a loser who couldn't satisfy his girlfriend.

Well, she'd take care of that.

She was sure that Finn would be able to rationalize his selfishness. She didn't know how, but he was gifted that way. He loved the spotlight as much as Rachel. He played it to the hilt and milked it for everything it was worth, but always cast himself as the martyr, the perpetual victim of whom everyone took advantage. It was sickening that he was allowed to get away with it and she wondered what life was like inside the Hummel-Hudson household. If she were Kurt, she would have fled for boarding school too.

Her eyes flicked up toward the rearview mirror and she watched Evans continued to cuddle Kurt in his lap, running his fingers through the boy's hair and humming some country song she vaguely recognized, which, the hell? Fucking hick towns.

But it was nice, watching someone taking care of Kurt for a change. Sure, it was pretty obvious that Evans wanted in Kurt's pants, but, fuck, who could blame him? It would have been better if he had declared his interest months ago, but she supposed that perhaps the timing had been off or Evans had wanted to redo his roots before he made his move or something. Whatever.

But there was no denying that Sam legitimately cared for Kurt. Her heart probably would be melting right now if she wasn't such a cantankerous bitch.

Good for her.

"So is this a new thing?" she asked.

He was silent for a long moment. "No," he finally said.

And, apparently, that was all he had.

How dare he leave her wanting more!

Sam sighed softly, as if sensing her perturbation. "I've never been into another dude before. I mean, I was serious when I told Kurt when we first met that I didn't care that he was gay. Sexual orientation doesn't bother me, and I don't know why it bothers anyone else; it's not like they're directly affected. I was part of the Gay/Straight Alliance at my old school, which, despite being in the South, was a lot more progressive than McKinley. I had gay and bisexual friends and I respected and defended them, but I never considered myself anything other than straight. It wasn't as though I didn't know I had options; it's that I had never truly considered them."

She thought about his words, intrigued by them, and wondered about her own sexual identity. She felt all of this internal and external pressure to declare herself something, but she didn't want to, felt no need to do so. She had slept with dozens of guys, but she had never fallen in love with one, not even Puck. Conversely, the only girl she had been with was Brittany and she was fairly certain she was in love with her, but how was she supposed to know for sure? She loved Brittany, absolutely. She felt protective of her and wanted to be with her all the time, but did that mean she was in love with her?

Was she bisexual or lesbian? By actions alone she would be considered bisexual, but by feelings a lesbian. But lesbian didn't sound right to her; it didn't feel right. She liked having sex with guys. It was awesome when they knew what they were doing. Yet the only emotional intimacy she had ever experienced was with Brittany, who was the only girl who had ever caught her eye. So was Brittany was her exception, not just to girls, but to everything? What if Kurt was Sam's exception? Could she be Kurt's exception? Did everyone have an exception?

Fuck, did it even matter? She was sixteen. Why couldn't she just be with whomever she wanted? Why did it have to be labeled? Why did she feel compelled to label herself? What would it prove? This was her life, not the Pepsi Challenge.

"Can I ask you something?"

He sighed again, this time with resignation. "I guess."

She ignored his wariness; his permission wasn't required. "Were you in love with Quinn?"

Her question startled him, she could tell, and she wondered if anyone had ever asked him that. If he had ever asked himself.

"I don't think so," he said slowly, haltingly, as if tasting the words on his tongue to determine their veracity, "but I've never been in love before, so it's not like I have anything to measure it against. I had feelings for her, but we both went into this with an agenda, so I don't even know if those feelings were real or manufactured by me to justify the relationship."

"So how do you know if your feelings for Kurt are real?" She tried to keep the desperation out of her voice.

"I'm not sure I can explain it," he replied. "I felt an immediate connection to him. I wanted to sing with him, I wanted to be his friend. I was…really angry when Finn warned me away from Kurt, like he was trying to keep me from something I wanted, but I didn't know why I wanted it."

He paused. "And I was jealous of Blaine. I didn't know it was jealousy at first, I just thought it was anger that Blaine had gotten something I wanted, even if I didn't know what that was. I think I allowed myself to believe I was just after friendship, that I was upset Blaine had gotten the friend I wanted, and I think part of that was because Kurt had no other guy friends. I wanted to be that guy for him, the one who was cool and who didn't care about labels and names, but I did care. I don't even think I realized how much I cared until Kurt had left McKinley."

"Until he had left you?" she quietly asked.

Sam made some noise in his throat, a deep growl that actually sounded menacing and, for a brief moment, she regretted asking. Then she remembered that she didn't care what he thought of her. Right.

"Yeah," he said, his voice sounding strangled. "From the outside, it looked perfect, you know? Like Blaine was some kind of white knight who swooped in and rescued Kurt from the evil villain. Like I had wanted to do. And then Blaine kept him safe in some Hogwarts ivory tower. But the tower can't keep you safe from what's locked inside with you. That's when I got that Kurt didn't need to be rescued. He just needed to be acknowledged, and Blaine was the first to do that for him. Or so it seemed."

She considered that statement and liked it, as inelegantly phrased as it was. "And now?"

He chuckled mirthlessly. "Now? Now I know that I want to be with Kurt. When I saw Blaine kiss Rachel tonight, I hated him. I seriously wanted to beat him to within an inch of his life, and not just because he was hurting Kurt. It was because he didn't know he was hurting Kurt. I was offended by his ignorance of Kurt's feelings for him, because it came across as a dismissal. How can someone be that callous? That clueless?

"Then I realized that while it was pretty obvious Kurt had feelings for Blaine, he never talked about Blaine's feelings for him. Or if he did, I don't know about it. So maybe Kurt manufactured some feelings in his head, or maybe he was reading the situation wrong, but some part of me just knows that Blaine knew Kurt loved him and was ignoring it because it was easier than dealing with it. Maybe he didn't know how to deal with it or maybe he liked keeping Kurt dangling on a string, making sure he was there as a backup."

She winced. Okay, that description hit a little too close to home. Shit, had she treated Brittany like that? She rather thought she had.

Sam rolled his neck. "And then tonight happened and all I wanted to do was protect Kurt, to make him feel better, because it just sucks that he's always the one who gets left behind. But then it changed."

Santana sensed she was on the verge of a breakthrough, that whatever Sam said next would be important not just for him, but for her as well. "Changed how?"

He shifted restlessly, doing his best to make sure he didn't disturb Kurt. "Because suddenly it was no longer about Blaine hurting Kurt; it was about me proving to Kurt that I would never hurt him. So when you asked me if I deserved Kurt, I knew the answer was no, because if I did, I would have stepped up back in September and dealt with my shit instead of shunting it to the side like Finn or Puck does. Yeah, I'm a coward and I don't deserve him, but I want him and know I would never hurt him." He hesitated. "But you know what really scares me?"

"What?" she reluctantly asked.

"I know for sure that he could hurt me, and that fucking terrifies me."

It was like a fist in her gut.

Eventually, he had to satisfy his curiosity. "Why are you doing this?"

"I don't even know anymore. I don't know if I ever did."

It was a better, and more honest, answer than he had expected.

"You know what it is to be lonely, don't you?" she asked. "To be in a room crowded with people you know, whom you would consider to be your friends, and yet you feel utterly alone."

"Yeah," he whispered. "Yeah, I know."

"I'm really fucking tired of feeling that way," she hissed, voiced harsh with bitterness.

"Maybe you should stop pushing people away," he softly suggested.

"Maybe people should stop letting me. Maybe all I want is for someone to start pushing back."

His eyes widened. "I think I get it."

"Maybe you do. Now let us never speak of it again."

He smiled. "For now. But you know that if you start this, if you really open yourself to the possibility, Kurt will push back. Are you ready for that? Can you handle it? Or will you push him away just like everyone else has?"

"I don't know," she admitted after several seconds of terse silence. "I honestly don't know. And, yeah, that bothers me."

"Don't you think you were a little harsh on his dad?"

"No."

He eyed the back of her neck. "Really?"

"Really," she snapped back. "He doesn't get a free pass because he's a decent parent. I pressed him because he needed to be pressed, because Kurt was too afraid to do it himself. That he told Kurt to stay away from you, that he automatically sided with Finn without even bothering to ask Kurt about it, was really fucked up. I don't think Kurt even argued with him, he just gave up, believing his own father wouldn't listen to what he had to say.

"Don't get me wrong," she continued. "I don't know the man, and from everything I've heard, he's an awesome dad – he loves his kid – but that doesn't mean that just because he accepts Kurt is gay that he's happy about it."

"Most parents probably wouldn't be."

"Would yours?" she baldly asked.

He shrugged. "I don't know. Me being gay might not bother them, but the wall of shit that would come crashing down on me would. What parent wants that for their kid?"

She noted that he had phrased his answer as a loose hypothetical. He wasn't admitting to being gay, either because he wasn't or because he wasn't ready. She wanted him to state himself clearly, if only because she couldn't do the same. A part of her really envied Kurt for knowing who he was from such a young age, and another part really admired his conviction, his certainty.

"Agreed," she said, "and Hummel Senior probably feels the same way, but he doesn't express it that way. When Kurt came out – this is according to Brit, who got it from the horse's mouth – his dad said that he knew, that he had always known and that he loved him. Well, that's terrific, but that wasn't what Kurt needed to hear. He needed his father to say it was okay. I don't think he's said that yet. Kurt needs someone resolutely on his side, that's what a parent is supposed to do, but I get the feeling that Kurt's feels his father's love is conditional."

"But you don't know that for sure," Sam argued.

"I don't, but even if it's not true, I do think that's how Kurt feels. He's always been set apart, Evans. His clothes, his voice, his mother's death, his sexuality. He's come to expect judgment from all sides and he usually gets it. Hell, even if someone supported him to their dying breath, I don't think he'd believe them; he's been conditioned not to."

Sam unconsciously tightened his hold on Kurt.

"They were all friends once: Kurt, Hudson, and Puck. But then it changed. Kurt didn't change, but the perception others had of him did. He never hid who he was because it never occurred him to do so; he never acted differently because he was always different. He just didn't know what to call himself."

"But they did," Sam whispered.

"They sure did, and everything you can think of, they said to him. Then they upped the ante by tossing him in dumpsters and locking him in Port-A-Crappers and nailing his lawn furniture to his roof and throwing pee balloons at him. And Finn was a part of all of that. I wonder if his mother and stepfather know about that."

Sam closed his eyes. "Jesus."

She snorted. "I'd like to say that Jesus has nothing to do with this, but we both know that's not true. Kurt's atheism is just one more thing that sets him apart. Almost the entire glee club attacked him for it, demanding to know why he didn't believe in god. I think the better question is why he would he believe? If there is a god, it's pretty obvious that Kurt was made to be that god's bitch."

She guffawed. "It was so hypocritical that it was really hard not to laugh. Finn isn't religious, but he was so offended by Kurt's lack of faith. Hudson may believe in some higher power, but he thought that same higher power was a fucking grilled cheese sandwich. His concept of God is that of a genie, just hanging out and waiting to offer him three wishes. Puck's Jewish when it suits him; he doesn't keep Kosher and he never goes to temple. The only reason he had a bar mitzvah was for the presents.

"And don't even get me started on Jones and Fabray. Kurt was facing the very real possibility that he would lose his sole remaining parent, that he would be left completely alone in a town which openly despises him, and the biggest question on their small minds was how best to witness to him. It was nauseating. His father was in a fucking coma. I don't even know where the hell Kurt was staying during all of that."

Sam's mouth fell open.

"I didn't care enough at the time to find out," she blithely continued, "but I assume if he had been staying with Jones, she would have said something. Kurt would never have stayed with Finn, and there's really no point in considering other options. So that means he was alone, left to fend for himself, which is so fucking typical. One thing you come to understand when watching Kurt Hummel is that he hates being beholden to other people. He doesn't like relying on them, probably because he doesn't trust their reasons. If you look at the circle around him, they all use him as their emotional crutch, but he has no one to whom he can turn. That was pretty obvious as Mercedes was dragging him off to her church."

She was working herself up into an epic rant and didn't give a shit. The more she thought about it, the more she hated them, and the more she hated herself for acting like a blasé bitch when someone who could very well have been a friend was hurting. She had thought long and hard about what would have happened had the situations been reversed, and she knew that even though she and Kurt weren't close, he would have come to her side immediately, unprompted, and done whatever she had asked of him.

That's why Hummel was awesome and everyone else was a schmuck, including her, because she had not only done nothing to stop it, she had abetted it by remaining silent. It was also why Hummel sucked, because he made people around him vulnerable to their own damn consciences.

"And then Jones and the others had the gall to be offended when he was upset. That prayer circle wasn't about making him feel better; it was about making them feel better because they didn't know what else to do. They didn't know how to help him. And rather than ask, they assumed they knew what was best and then had the audacity to make him feel ashamed for not appreciating their efforts."

Sam reflected on her words, for the most part agreeing with her.

He had faith. Sometimes he questioned it and other time he doubted it outright, but it was his and he embraced it. But that didn't mean that he felt others should do the same, and they definitely shouldn't be forced. Kurt's lack of faith didn't bother him because it wasn't his business.

It was his opinion that faith was completely separate from religion; faith was intensely personal. He was never one for proselytizing because he didn't believe that you could force or compel someone to have a relationship with God. They either wanted one or they didn't.

He attended church and found comfort in the sense of community it afforded, but he also knew that he and his faith would be just fine without weekly meetings. He was suspicious of organized religion because it could provide a breeding ground for bigots and zealots to sow their hatred. Christian denominations denounced each other with regularity. Catholicism wouldn't allow women to be priests, but they did allow pedophiles. Most religions had some 'we're right and everyone else is wrong' aspect to them, and he just didn't understand that. That wasn't what God was about, at least not to him.

Sam didn't object to Kurt's atheism, and suspected Kurt wouldn't object to his beliefs. He was reluctant to ask Santana about her own, though he was curious. He also thought she could kill him, dispose of his body, and then bake cookies for Kurt in under an hour. It was hot and awesome in a really disturbing way.

"I smell fear," she purred. "I like that smell."

Fucking psychic cheerleader ninjas.

"I'm scared," he admitted.

"Why?"

"This is all happening so fast. He's in my lap, Santana, and I'm afraid that when he wakes up, he won't want to be ever again."

She nodded slowly. "Could you deal with just being his friend?"

"I'd like to think so, but I don't know. I don't know if I'm that selfless."

She snorted. "I'm sure as hell not."

"He might not have an exception," Sam whispered.

"I know."

He rolled his eyes. She was going to make him work for it. Hell, why was he even surprised? "And if he doesn't? How does that affect your plans?"

She raised a brow. "My plans? I thought we were in this together."

He heard the doubt creeping into her voice, though she tried to suppress it. He'd never seen her like this before and really didn't know how to deal with it. There was just a slight glimmer of vulnerability to her, but it was so much more than he had ever suspected her of having, and that she was letting him see it? Fuck. He didn't want to screw this up. He didn't want to alienate her. He…didn't want to lose her.

"I don't want to lose you."

He blinked rapidly. Had he just said that out loud? Fuck!

She grimaced, a sharp rejoinder all but begging to burst forth and put him in his place, but he had gotten to her, probably because he had sounded as surprised to say it as she was to hear it.

"We need to put our cards on the table before this goes any further," Sam babbled. "If we can't deal with each other, we can't do anything to help Kurt and we might as well just take him home."

"Agreed," she hissed.

"I want him, San. I want him so bad I can fucking taste it. I want to bury myself inside him until I become part of him. I want to hurt everyone who's ever hurt him. I don't want anyone else to touch him ever again, except for you. You're okay. But no one else."

"Whoa," she murmured under her breath, her eyes wide. Who knew the guy had so much passion inside him?

He swallowed heavily and ran a hand through his hair. "I'm so scared. I've never felt this way before. I don't know what to do. What am I going to say to him tomorrow? How will I look him in the eye? I don't want to let him go, but he might not even want me. He could wake up at any moment and demand to be taken back to Blaine and all will be forgiven. But I can't let him ago. Not now."

"Holy shit, Evans," she whispered.

"I don't know what's going on with me," he muttered, seemingly more to himself than to her. "What am I doing? Why now? Oh god, he might end up hating me. I couldn't stand that. Why didn't I figure this out before? I wasted so much time with him. Maybe he wouldn't want me as a boyfriend, but we still could have been friends. At least that would be something. All I have now is some really freaky crush that's tearing me up inside. I don't know what to do."

She quickly pulled the car over, put it in park, and turned around in her seat to look at him.

"Evans."

"Evans!"

"Sam!"

He gasped sharply, startled, and abruptly raised his eyes.

She almost reeled back. His eyes were huge and frightened and she didn't know what the fuck to do or say. Part of her just wanted to kick him out of her car so that could go home and forget this miserable night had ever happened, but she had started this and she would see it through. Even though she was fairly sure she was going to fuck it up. More than once.

"We can call this off right now. I can take you home and then call Hummel Senior and tell him things have changed. Kurt won't know anything about this. You can take some time to get your head together and then maybe approach him later."

"Blaine," he whispered, teeth chattering.

She nodded. "It could happen. Blank could wake up tomorrow filled with remorse, seek Kurt out, and beg his forgiveness. Or maybe he'll decide he's bi and crush Kurt all over again. You need to decide if you're willing to let that happen or if you're going to step up and cut Blur off at the knees. The question is whether or not you're strong enough to do it."

He opened his mouth but said nothing.

"Remember when I asked you if you had loved Quinn? You said you weren't sure."

He nodded.

"Do you love Kurt?"

His eyes widened to the size of banjos. He gave a shaky nod.

"Say it."

"I…I love him."

"Say his name."

"I love Kurt." He blinked slowly. "I love Kurt."

"Are you prepared for everything that comes with that? Of the abuse that will be handed to you?"

He scoffed. "You mean Karofsky?"

"Screw him. After what he did to Kurt, he's effectively neutralized. I'll see to that."

"Then what do you mean?"

She stared at him. "If you want him, if you want to be with him, then you need to be prepared to fight for him. You'll have to fight Finn, Mercedes, Blaine, and god knows who else. If you can't do that, walk away now. It might kill you, but I'd like to think you care too much for Kurt to give him hope and then just snatch it away." She gave him a measured look. "Are you ready to be strong?"

He frowned. "You quote Buffy?"

"I have many skills."

"And now you quote Xena?"

Damn it, she did not find his confusion adorable. "Can you be Kurt's Xander?"

A light went on his eyes. Jesus, he was so easy.

"I can do this," he said. "I want him. Fuck everyone else."

She smirked. "So you do have a pair. Kurt will be so pleased."

He blushed. "And what about you?"

She shrugged. "I won't lie. I want to fuck him. I want to fuck you. I want both of you to fuck me at the same time."

His eyes bulged. "Wow. I mean, wow. Wow."

She rolled her eyes.

"Is that all you want?" he softly asked. "I don't know you well, Santana, but I think I like you. I'm definitely attracted to you, I'd sure like to have sex with you, but I don't feel for you the way I do for him. I'm not sure I ever could."

She nodded, though she was stung. It wasn't as though she was expecting anything different.

"But I'd like to be your friend," he continued. "I think I'd be pretty damn lucky to be able to call you that."

She inhaled sharply and exhaled slowly. "I think I'd like that too."

"And Brittany?"

Ah, there was the rub. "I don't know," she eventually confessed. "She's with Wheels and, for whatever reason, he makes her happy. It's not like it is with Kurt and Blaine. From what I've seen, all Blaine does is make Kurt miserable. But Artie really cares about Brittany and she cares about him. I don't know if they love each other, but if I love her at all, and I think I do, what would I be doing to her if I tried to break them up? I know I'm selfish enough to do it, but I don't know if I could live with myself after."

He held out his hand toward her. Eventually she took it.

"What about Kurt?" he whispered. "He might not want anything to do with this, whatever this is."

"Maybe," she allowed, "but he let a lot slip tonight, no matter how unintentionally. He cares about you, Sam. He's attracted to you. He wanted a friend; specifically, he wanted you. I don't think that's changed. Sure, Blur came along, but what exactly has Dwayne given him? False hope? A place to be safe but that completely stifles him? A glee club where he's been shunted even further away from the spotlight? You saw Kurt at Sectionals. He looked completely out of it. He's not happy, Sam."

"He said he had been watching you," Sam quietly said. "He saw that you were lonely, that you were unhappy, and he wants better for you because he knows you deserve it. He wants to be your friend, Santana, but I think the question is whether or not you'll let him. Because if we start this, if he begins to believe that you're his shoulder to lean on, and you pull that shoulder away, it could really fuck him up. I don't know how much more disappointment he can stand."

She bit her lip and looked away. "It'll be hard for me," she acknowledged. "Kurt and I are a lot alike. We push and we push until we get what we want. He'll push me, I know it, and I'll push him and we could end up imploding. That's where you come in. Right now, Kurt is a lot more emotionally unstable than I am, so when I get out of control, you'll need to rein me in."

"I can do that," he said. "You might need to do it for me, too."

She cocked her head. "Why?"

He licked his lips. "If it were up to me, I'd shake him awake right now and shove my tongue down his throat. I've had a boner since I pulled him against me in Rachel's living room. Having him on my lap is almost fucking unbearable. As much as I don't want to, I can see myself trying to rush things, trying to rush him. I know that's not good for him. I know that's not what he needs right now."

He sighed. "I've seen him with the other guys, Santana. He doesn't let them touch him. Whenever Finn tries to hug him, Kurt slips past him or distracts him. He becomes absolutely wooden whenever Puck gets near him. Puck truly scares him."

Her eyes widened. Well. She'd take care of that. She was going to take care of Puck once and for all.

"Kurt's friends with Artie," Sam added, "but they're not friends that way. They don't spend a lot of quality hang time with each other. He's affectionate with Blaine, but I wonder how much of that is about Blaine, and how much of it is about the fact that Blaine is gay and accepts affection?"

"You think Kurt won't accept affection from you? Even if you tell him you love him?"

He sighed. "I'm not gay, Santana. I'm bisexual. I love Kurt. I want to be with Kurt. But we both know that he'll have a really difficult time accepting affection from a guy who likes both other dudes and girls."

"You said Kurt's the only guy you've been attracted to," she countered.

He snorted. "You think he'll believe me? All he'll hear is bisexual and he'll run away screaming. Even if he comes to accept my feelings for him are real, there will always be some little voice in the back of his mind telling him that I'll leave him for a girl." He raised a brow. "Probably for you."

"Me?"

"If we try this threesome thing, if we actually become friends and grow closer, he'll grow jealous of you and me. I'd be jealous of you and him."

She shrugged. "Well, I wouldn't be jealous of you and Kurt because I think it's fucking hot. Like I said before, as long as I can watch, I'm good. I'm after friendship. Sex is gravy."

He frowned. "Huh."

"What?" she asked.

"Maybe I've been making this harder than it needs to be."

"Maybe that's because your dick is so hard it could pound nails."

He shifted painfully. "No shit."

"When we get to my house, you can rub one out. No worries."

His mouth fell open. "Jesus Christ!"

"You're a virgin!"

He flushed. "So what?" he barked. "There's nothing wrong with it!"

"I didn't say there was," she snapped. "I'm just surprised. Fuck, god knows I sometimes wish I had waited." She pursed her lips. "Whatever. What did you mean about making things more…difficult?"

He gave her a wry grin. "I got so manic about loving Kurt, I forgot about caring for him. As a friend. That's what he needs right now. He needs a friend, not a boyfriend. So I need to suck it up, shut the hell up, and be that for him. He doesn't need any more pressure."

"Can you do that?" she asked evenly.

"If I can't, then I really don't deserve him at all," he sighed, "but I know I need to take it slow. That shit he said about infecting me. He really meant that." He shook his head. "I can believe that Finn sold him that line of bullshit, but I can't believe Kurt actually bought it."

She nodded. "There's a lot of damage we'll have to undo. Are you up for it?"

"I'll have to be."

She nodded again, more slowly. "Let's go home."

Santana carried their bags as Sam carried Kurt.

"What will your parents say?"

She shrugged. "They won't care. Once I explain what you and Kurt have been through tonight, they'll probably adopt you and make you learn Spanish."

"Kurt's already fluent."

She blinked. "What?"

"He's fluent in Spanish, which is why he takes French. He was tutoring me for a little while. He's actually fluent in French too, at least as far as speaking and comprehension goes. He's only taking the class to improve his translation skills."

"Huh. Okay." Yeah, smart was sexy. Smart plus Romance languages was even sexier. She shrugged and opened the front door. "Mom?"

"I'm in the kitchen, sweetheart," her mother called out.

Santana took a deep breath and nodded to Sam, indicating he should follow her.

Sam made his way toward the back of the, well, mansion was the only appropriate word. He hadn't expected this. It wasn't like he had expected Santana to be poor, but she almost always wore her Cheerios uniform and her car was rather modest. Nice and clean, but not high-end. Of all the times he had thought her to be a bitch, she had never come across as a rich bitch. It was actually kind of cool.

Her mother stood at the sink, rinsing a few dishes. As they approached, the woman turned around to greet her daughter with a smile, only for that smile to slide slowly from her face as she took in her guests.

"Santana?" she asked, confusion and worry obvious in her tone.

Santana sighed. "Mom, this is my friend, Sam Evans."

Sam nodded.

The woman raised a brow. Friend? Since when did Santana have male friends? Boys who were…just friends? Wow. "What's going on?"

Santana pulled out a chair at the table and pushed Sam toward it. "Berry's party was a disaster. Lots of drinking and stupidity. I wish I had never gone."

Her mother's eyes widened. "And the other boy? Is he drunk? Do we need to go to take him to the hospital?"

Sam couldn't believe the calm this woman managed to project.

"No," Santana said. "He and I are the only ones who weren't drinking. Sam only had a couple of beers, but he ate them with food."

Mrs. Lopez nodded at Sam with approval. "A wise decision."

He blushed and she was charmed.

"I took his keys anyway," Santana continued, crossing to the refrigerator and grabbing a couple of bottled waters, unscrewing one and placing it before Sam, before opening her own. "Until tonight, Sam was dating Quinn."

"Until tonight," Mrs. Lopez repeated.

Santana nodded. "He found out she was cheating on him with Finn."

"I'm so sorry, Sam," the woman said, her disdain of Finn and Quinn's behavior obvious.

"Thank you, ma'am," Sam mumbled, looking down at Kurt's face.

"And what of this other boy?" she asked her daughter.

Santana sighed. "We were playing Spin the Bottle. Lame and totally stupid, I know, but whatever. At any rate, Kurt's boyfriend had to kiss Berry. All of a sudden, they were making out like idiots and they just wouldn't stop. Kurt stood there watching and all the while his friends didn't do or say anything. Sam and I took him upstairs and he just started rambling in a weird monotone. Then he freaked out, and then he cried himself to sleep. I'm pretty sure he was in shock."

She clucked with annoyance. "The boyfriend eventually passed out and I decided to bring Kurt home with me. The boyfriend can figure out his own ride. Not to mention that Finn is Kurt's stepbrother and uses Kurt as his own personal shrink. The last thing Kurt needs to deal with now is his brother's nadir of stupidity."

Her mother sat in silence, trying to assimilate all of this information. She was able to follow it, but so much still didn't make sense. She loved her daughter, but Santana was not what anyone would call generous. Still, she gathered that these two boys were in that glee club with her daughter so perhaps Santana felt some compassion for their plights, as uncharacteristic as that might have been. She couldn't help but feel sorry for the boys; they were probably devastated. Especially if the smaller one had slipped into shock. Kurt, Santana had said.

"Kurt." She stood up and walked around the table to Sam, crouching down so that her face was level with that of the boy in his lap. "Kurt Hummel?"

Santana blinked. "How did you know?"

"You said he went into shock?" She felt his forehead; cool and clammy. He needed to be warmed up immediately. She also sensed if she tried to take Kurt from Sam, there would be problems. "Oh, Kurt," she whispered.

The boy's eyes fluttered open, his pupils dilated. He blinked rapidly, trying to adjust his vision to the sudden influx of light. "Hi, Dr. Lyddie," he whispered. "Am I in the hospital?"

"No, sweetheart," Lydia Lopez said soothingly. "You're at my home. Santana brought you and Sam back with her after the party."

He frowned. "You're Satan's mother?"

She blinked and then swallowed a snort. "Indeed I am."

"You're lucky," he whispered, closing his eyes again and returning to sleep.

It was hard for Sam to tell which Lopez woman was more shocked.

"How do you know Kurt, Mom?" Santana demanded.

"I was one of his mother's doctors," Lydia replied. "It was…a very difficult case. Very sad."

Sam and Santana stared at her, then at each other, and finally down at Kurt.

"Right," Lydia said. "You boys are welcome to spend the night here. I know that no matter what I say, you all will end up in the same room, so I'm not even going to fight it. Sam looks like he wouldn't let go of Kurt if a gun was held to his head, and as for you, daughter, well, I don't know what's gotten into you, but I like it. Proof of your humanity every now and again does my heart good."

Santana rolled her eyes.

"Show Sam to your room," Lydia continued. She saw the various bags strung over her daughter's shoulders. "I assume the boys have changes of clothing. Sam, please help Kurt into his pajamas. Santana, keep Kurt warm and if he wants to sleep, let him. Do I need to call Burt?"

Santana shook her head. "I already did. He has our address and phone number." She paused. "He didn't say he knew you."

Lydia shrugged. "He probably didn't make the connection. You know I use my maiden name to practice."

Santana shuffled her feet. "Kurt never talks about his mom," she whispered. "What happened to her?"

Lydia glared at her. "You know better, Santana. I won't violate patient confidentiality or Kurt's privacy. What I will tell you is that Suzanne Hummel was a lovely woman who loved her son very much. Watching that sweet little boy sit by his mother's hospital bed for hours on end, day after day, month after month." She took a deep breath. "It was very painful to witness. He was so strong for her, up until the very end." She wrung her hands. "That's all I will tell you. If you want to know more, ask Kurt. If he doesn't wish to tell you, respect his boundaries."

Santana nodded. "Sorry," she mumbled.

"Go on now," her mother prodded. "After I finish these dishes, I'll be turning in. No funny business, daughter."

Santana smirked. "Sam loves Kurt."

Sam paled, his mouth falling open. "Santana," he hissed.

Lydia didn't miss a beat. "I see. In that case, Sam, you will not be helping Kurt into his pajamas. Neither will you, Santana. Don't think I don't know you. He can sleep in his clothes."