I apologize for the wait with this chapter. I kind of lost my inspiration and motivation to work on this story for a bit but I think it's safe to say it's come back.
A big thank you to everyone who reviewed the last couple of chapters. And an even bigger thank you to everyone on Tumblr who's recently talked to and with me or just poked me when I needed to be poked.
Pay extra attention to the quote the beginning and as always, let me know what you think.
We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.
T.S. Eliot, "Little Gidding"
Chapter Fourteen
A star shot over them and Rachel nudged Santana's leg, pointing upwards. "Make a wish," she said.
Santana thought for a moment, her nose crinkling. "I wish that me and Rachel can be together forever," she eventually settled on, turning her head in the grass to look over at her best friend. It was kind of a cheesy wish, but she knew that Rachel liked those kinds of things. (And maybe she really did think it would be okay if that wish came true.)
"You go," Santana whispered. She turned away to look back up at the sky.
"I wish," Rachel started, pausing for a moment. "I wish that Santana's wish comes true," she giggled, twisting in the grass to lie on her side. She wrapped an arm around Santana's waist and leaned against her shoulder.
"Hey," Santana muttered. "You just wasted a wish."
Rachel shifted against her, finding Santana's hand with her free one and gripping it tightly. "No, I didn't."
"But you like, just wished for the same thing I did."
Rachel nodded against her shoulder. "Well, you took the one I was gonna say," she said. "And now that we've both wished for it, it has to come true."
A smile came across Santana's face and she was unable to stop it. "Hopefully," she admitted.
Rachel smiled and she felt like it was enough. The wind blew through the grass, brown and green blades shifting and swaying around them. The stars twinkled over them and she was sure that they were twinkling around her, too. They were shining in the sky and in the grass and she could practically feel them. And she was happy.
She shifted again, tightening her hold on Santana. Hopefully, she thought to herself.
They were content to lie in the grass for as long as they could. Santana connected stars together with her free hand, tracing her fingers across the sky in letters and shapes that she knew Rachel would like.
Rachel sighed, watching Santana map out a squirrel (well she was calling it a squirrel, anyway.) The stars were around them and they were perfect, shining and glowing. They were everywhere and Rachel never wanted to leave them. She was going to be one of those one day - a star. She was going to shine bright and beautiful and make people feel the way she felt in that moment, lying next to Santana in the grass while the universe was all around them.
"We should go back," she said eventually, interrupting Santana's attempt at piecing stars together into a puppy. "I don't wanna get in trouble."
Santana frowned. "Wait, I got one more," she said, raising their joined hands. She tilted her head until it lightly hit Rachel's and traced their fingers out above them, carefully drawing out a star with five points. "That one was you," she grinned. "'Cause you said," she stuttered for a moment, "you wanna be a star and stuff."
Rachel matched her grin. "You're really sweet," she blushed. "And kinda cheesy."
Santana looked away, tilting her head and glancing at the grass next to them. "Whatever," she rolled her eyes. "You like that stuff."
Rachel's knee bumped against hers and she pushed Santana's foot with her own. Rachel rolled over on to her side and leaned down, kissing Santana's cheek lightly. "I like you," she said. "You're my best friend."
Santana said nothing as Rachel pulled her up and led her back into the trees. Fireflies danced around them, or they might have been stars – she wasn't sure anymore. Rachel held her hand the entire way, carefully maneuvering them over branches and rocks, while Santana just smiled and let Rachel lead her.
She would never admit it, but she would probably follow Rachel anywhere.
Santana's pants were covered in dirt, ripped at the knee and stained with grass. She was sitting down sipping on a juice box, letting the slide above them block out the hot sun. She held it out and offered some to Rachel, who took it gratefully. Santana wiped the sweat from her forehead, wrinkling her nose.
It was another unbearable hot summer day spent outside at the park and Santana wanted nothing more than to stay hidden under the slide for the rest of the afternoon. She knew they couldn't though, not when there were still games to be played. Rachel was her best friend and Santana didn't mind putting up with the heat and dirt if it meant she got to spend more time with the other girl.
Rachel pushed the hair out of her face, trying to smooth it down before giving up. It was too hot to try so hard to fix something she didn't care about. She tilted her feet as they stretched out in front of her, bumping them against Santana's feet. "Hey, Santana?"
"Yeah?"
Rachel paused, glancing over at her friend. Santana always looked so pretty, she thought, her long dark hair resting halfway down her back, slicking up in a few odd places because of the heat and their playing, her big dark eyes that always stared at Rachel like she was important and awesome. She always made Rachel feel like that - like she meant something and like she was great, even at those times when she thought she wasn't either of these things.
"What is it?" Santana asked.
Rachel leaned forward quickly, pushing her lips against Santana's for a brief second like she saw her daddies do every night before bed. She pouted her lips and kissed Santana just for a moment before she pulled back, giggling. Santana's lips tasted like juice and like something else Rachel couldn't identify.
Santana's eyes were wide, which made Rachel giggle even more. Santana always made that face when Rachel kissed her and she thought it was adorable and silly. She nudged Santana with her elbow. "Now you have to marry me," Rachel said.
Santana sputtered for a second. "What? Says who?"
"Says everybody," Rachel told her, nodding smartly. "You only kiss people you're going to marry, like how my daddies kiss or your mommy and daddy kiss," she continued. "And now we kissed so you gotta marry me when we grow up."
Santana grinned, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms. "Well what if I don't wanna marry you?"
Rachel shrugged, still giggling. "Well too bad cause we already kissed, so I guess you're stuck with me."
Santana sipped at her juice box, rolling her shoulders back and smiling, her lips curling around the end of her straw. "Yeah, okay. That wouldn't be so bad, I guess."
Rachel just smiled and tugged her out into the hot sun towards the swings.
"Five more minutes," Rachel muttered, pulling her blanket up over her head.
The rapid tapping continued and Rachel opened her eyes slowly, peeking out through her comforter. It was still dark and definitely too early for her fathers to be waking her up for school. There was a moment of silence and then the tapping resumed. It was coming from her window.
Rachel rose slowly, sliding out of bed and shivering as her bare feet his the wooden paneling on the floor. Her room was cold for it to be only August. She stretched her arms out over her head, opening the window cautiously and glancing outside.
"Santana?"
Sure enough, Santana was sitting in the tree outside her window. She had on a grey tank top and matching shorts, her hair slightly messy as she clung to a branch.
"What are you doing here?" Rachel asked, pulling the window open.
Santana held out her hand, wiggling her fingers at Rachel until she took it. She slid across the branch she was sitting on and put her foot on the windowsill. "Hold on to me," she instructed, her voice rough and scratchy.
Rachel nodded quickly, gripping Santana's arm with her other hand and pulling as Santana stepped on to her windowsill completely and ducked down, finally getting into Rachel's room. She exhaled deeply.
"Are you okay? What's going on?" Rachel asked, keeping Santana's hand in hers.
Santana nodded. "Yeah, I'm okay," she said. It was a lie and Rachel could see it written all over Santana's face. If she was really okay, she wouldn't be climbing into Rachel's bedroom in the middle of the night "Can I stay here?"
"We have school tomorrow."
"Yeah, I know, but I'll be gone before your dads get up, okay? You won't get in trouble or anything," Santana rushed out, whispering. She squeezed Rachel's hand. "Please."
"Of course you can stay," Rachel whispered, guiding Santana to the bed and slipping under her blanket. She held it up and waited until Santana slid in beside her, their hands still clasped. "Are you wearing shoes?"
Santana shook her head and said nothing, shifting for a moment. She let go of Rachel's hand, rolling on to her side to face Rachel. She pulled her arms up to her body and rested her hands flat against the bed, putting her cheek on them. She stared at Rachel, her eyes taking in Rachel's face, her bright eyes and her soft smile.
There was no blood, no pain. She wasn't injured, lying on a sidewalk and bleeding, screaming for help and because everything hurt and because she was dying. She wasn't looking at Santana with scorn and hatred and blame; she was just staring back at Santana, mirroring her position in bed. Rachel was fine. It was just a stupid dream, she told herself, nodding slightly. Rachel was alive and well.
"You can tell me, you know," Rachel whispered. "If you want to."
"Yeah, I know," Santana replied, pushing closer to Rachel until she felt their legs bump. Rachel felt kind of cold and Santana closed the gap between them, closing her eyes until she heard Rachel sigh. A few moments passed and Santana heard Rachel's breathing even out as she slipped back to sleep, snoring lightly.
Santana opened her eyes again, checking over Rachel again quickly. She put an arm over Rachel's waist because that's what she always saw people do in bed and because that's how she usually slept with Rachel, with their limbs all tangled up and wrapped around one another until she wasn't sure where Rachel's ugly nightgowns stopped and her regular clothes started.
"I'm here," Santana whispered softly.
She was running, pumping her legs as hard as she could, her hair flying out behind her. Her calf muscles burned and protested against the movement but Santana kept running anyway. There was motion all around her. She could feel it pushing the air towards her, pressure building up around her body and in her lungs as she tried to keep breathing. It was hot and humid, the moisture in the air sticking to her skin, clinging to her forehead and her cheeks and her neck, which was ridiculous because it wasn't summer anymore.
Someone was speaking, whispering in her ear, their breath like steam as it blew across her earlobe and cheek.
The movement caught up with her, fingertips brushing against her arms and the backs of her knees and her shoulders. The pressure in the air built up and Santana struggled to breathe, gasping as it caught up to her and wrapped itself around her.
Santana fell, the hands pushing at her body until she landed. The earth was cold, freezing. There was snow on her face and in her hair and Santana could breathe again, choking in air and tasting the dirt and the cold of the snow she had landed in.
She heard giggling and rolled over, sitting up to stare at the person who had attacked her. Rachel's hair was in braided pigtails that came down past her shoulders and she was wearing Santana's hat on her head. She was holding a fresh snowball in her hands and beaming, red gloves on her hand and her coat swinging down near her knees.
"I got you," Rachel laughed. "You didn't even see me!"
Santana glanced around quickly, standing up and brushing the snow off of her jacket. When had she gone outside? When had it become the afternoon? She didn't even remember waking up, let alone walking all the way to Rachel's street.
Rachel was still smiling. "I'm gonna get you," she giggled.
Santana frowned, burying her hands in her pockets. Maybe she had been sleep-walking. A carefully aimed snowball hit her in the chest and she gasped as snow spread out over her coat and stung her neck. "Hey!" she cried, wiping her coat.
Rachel groaned. "Come on, San," she said. "You're supposed to throw a snowball back. That's how a snowball fight works."
"I know how it works," Santana sneered. "Who said I wanted to have a snowball fight?"
"You-you don't want to play with me?" Rachel frowned, twisting one of her pigtails between her fingers.
"It's not that, I just -"
"No, it's okay," Rachel interrupted. "I understand," she said, turning on her heels and starting down the sidewalk. Her head was down and her toes scuffed at the ground.
Santana sighed, reaching down and picking up some snow and shaping it into a ball in her hands. She didn't have gloves and her palms immediately turned red from the cold. She aimed carefully, narrowing her eyes as she threw the snowball she had made. It smacked Rachel in the back of the head, the force and surprise causing Rachel to pitch forward into the snow. Santana laughed.
"I got you back!" she shouted, crossing her arms.
Rachel jumped up, giggling and reaching over to grab more snow. She ran at Santana, laughing loudly as she hurled snow at Santana, who jumped out the way and threw a fresh snowball at Rachel, catching her in the side. She grabbed another one and chased Rachel through the neighborhood, stomping through the untouched lawns of various houses and grabbing all of the snow she could.
Rachel darted behind a tree and when Santana caught up to her, snowball at the ready, Rachel had her arms full of snowballs and a wicked grin on her face. She laughed lowly, staring at Santana as menacingly as she could.
"Okay, I think -" Santana stuttered, eyes widening. "I think we're good. We played enough, don'tcha think?"
Rachel shook her head, still smiling widely.
Santana backed away. "You had all of those ready, didn't you?" she asked. "You tricked me."
"It's not my fault that you're so easy to trick," Rachel smiled, taking a few steps of her own and closing the distance between them.
Santana made a break for it, spinning around and taking off as fast as she could. Rachel caught her anyway, pelting her with snowballs to the back of the head and to the legs as Santana both laughed and cursed in Spanish. She could hear Rachel giggling as she pursued Santana and she thought about spinning around and fighting back but she didn't mind letting Rachel win if it meant that she kept laughing like that - a bit breathless but full of joy and pride.
She ran back across the yards she had come from, stopping only when snow stopped hitting her and she didn't hear Rachel's laughter echoing in her ears anymore. Santana was covered in wet slush and it was starting to seep through her sleeves and the jeans she was wearing. She couldn't feel her hands anymore, even as she flexed her fingers and spun around to see if Rachel was done playing.
"Rachel?" she called out, turning to find no one behind her. "Rachel! Come on! I want to go inside. My fingers are gonna fall off."
There was silence, the sound of Santana's loud breathing the only thing she heard as she spun around again. "Rachel?"
A perfectly round snowball hit her in the face and she cried out, groaning as she wiped the slush off of her cheeks and eyelids. Her eyes stung and she glared ahead of her, spotting Rachel's head sticking out from behind a tree. She was laughing.
"I hate you," Santana said.
Rachel walked over to her, her pigtails swinging as she continued to chuckle. She reached up to help Santana wipe some of the snow off of her face. "No, you don't," she replied, pulling Santana's hands away from her watering eyes and leading her towards her house. "Come on, I'll give you hot chocolate. That always makes you like me again."
Santana let Rachel lead her across various yards until they reached the Berry house. "I want extra whipped cream."
Rachel bounced up the steps energetically. "I asked daddy to get an extra can from the store just for you."
A few weeks later, Rachel begged Santana to come to her dance recital, offering to bribe her with whipped cream and chocolate if it was necessary. It wasn't Rachel's first performance, but it was the first one at which she would have a solo and she wanted her best friend to be there. Santana had to promise her mother that she would clean her room up every week and be on her best behavior, but it was worth it for chocolate and for Rachel.
Santana and her mother went shopping for a new dress and argued over what color it should be and her mother spent what felt like hours fixing her hair, Santana fidgeting and staring at her new dress as it lay on the bed waiting for her to put it on. It was the first dress Santana had been allowed to wear in what might have been years (her mother made her wear pants because she somehow always managed to get all of her clothes covered in dirt) and she couldn't help the excitement that coursed through her veins.
She had chosen a red dress that came down to her knees and matching shoes. It was nice but still casual enough for a recital and Santana wanted to look pretty for Rachel when she was cheering for her. Her mother also gave her some flowers to give to Rachel to congratulate her on her first big ballet solo and they wrapped a red ribbon around them that matched the color of Santana's dress. It was almost too much.
The doorbell rang promptly at seven and Santana hurriedly kissed her mother on the cheek before rushing to answer the door, skidding across the wooden floor of the hallway and colliding with the banister of the staircase. "I got it!" she yelled.
Rachel was standing on the other side wearing a black leotard, her hair pulled up into a tight bun and light makeup on her face, a dusting of glitter across her cheeks.
"Are you ready to go?" she asked immediately, bouncing on her feet.
Santana spotted the Berry car in the driveway, Leroy and Hiram waiting patiently in the front seat. She nodded, throwing her coat on and grabbing the flowers off of the end table next to door.
"Behave! I don't want to hear anything bad about you tonight!" her mother called out.
Santana rolled her eyes and pulled the door closed, turning back to Rachel.
"Are those for me?" Rachel asked, her eyes wide as she looked at the flowers Santana was holding.
"Yeah -"
Rachel reached out, trying to grab them. "Oh, thank you so much. My dads always give me flowers but it's so much -"
Santana jerked her arm back. "No," she said. "My mom said they're for after the recital."
"Oh."
Rachel frowned, her eyes turning towards the ground. She pouted, just like she always did when she wanted something. Her bottom lip trembled.
Santana rolled her eyes, looking down at the flowers in her hands for a moment before she picked out what she thought was the nicest one. "Fine, you can have one now," she sighed, holding her arm out in front of her until Rachel took the flower she was offering, their fingers brushing lightly. "But the rest are for after, okay?"
Rachel nodded quickly, her pout vanishing instantly as she took the offered flower in her hand. "Thank you," she said quietly, smiling back at her friend.
Rachel had to go backstage as soon as they reached the auditorium of the local high school, leaving Santana with her fathers and all of the families milling around the entranceway outside of the auditorium.
Santana frowned, following along behind Rachel's dads. There was a mark on her new dress, probably from when she slid in the hallway, and her shoes were already scuffed. She picked at the spot on her dress as she walked, absentmindedly staring downwards until she walked right into something big and soft.
Strong hands steadied her. "Whoa, careful there," a man said, clutching a basket of roses on his arm. He was the tallest person she had ever seen and his eyes were kind and blue and made her smile.
"Sorry," she muttered.
"It's alright," he smiled. "Would you like to buy a flower?"
Santana shook her head. "No, I already got some," she said, shrugging.
Leroy appeared then, stepping up to them and taking Santana's hand. "There you are, Santana," he said. "Come on, the show's about to start."
Santana figured she was probably too old to be holding a grownup's hand, but she let Leroy keep her hand anyway. His hands were large and warm wrapped around hers, the firmness of his grip comforting as he held on to her. Her own dad was nice but he never took her anywhere and so had no reason to hold her hand. It was something that Santana never really missed until she was with Rachel's fathers.
Leroy squeezed her hand, breaking into her thoughts. "Are you excited?" he asked, smiling at Santana. "I know Rachel won't shut up about it," he chuckled, his voice deep.
Santana walked along beside him into the auditorium. "Rachel never shuts up about anything," she replied, following him into an aisle in the middle of the auditorium. Leroy laughed. "No, seriously," Santana continued. "Yesterday, she talked for like, twenty minutes about her headband."
Leroy helped Santana up into a seat next to Hiram and sat down next to her. "And you didn't stop her?"
"I tried, but she just kept going and going," Santana replied, rolling her eyes. "So I just ignored her 'til she was done and then we went on the jungle gym."
Leroy chuckled and Santana grinned, turning towards the stage and trying to find the best view. She pulled her legs up underneath her and sat on her knees, tucking her dress up under her body. It was going to wrinkle and her mom was probably going to be mad but she didn't care anymore; she'd already gotten her dress dirty, so a few wrinkles weren't going to get her in much more trouble than she was already in.
Hiram offered to take the flowers she was still clutching, but she shook her head, tightening her fingers around the stems because she wanted to be the one to give Rachel's flowers to her and if she gave them to Hiram or Leroy, she'd probably end up forgetting about them.
The lights dimmed as Santana placed the bouquet under her seat and bounced on her legs slightly.
Music started playing and a few girls came out on stage, their hair done up and their faces shining under the stage lights. They had on the prettiest dresses Santana had ever seen - light blues and rich purples twirling across the stage in time with the music. They were beautiful, but they weren't Rachel.
Santana bounced up a little bit more, Hiram's hand on her shoulder steadying her.
There was one little girl in the back of the group, only just moving as she stood against the backdrop. She wasn't dancing like the other girls; she was simply swaying in place, a tattered plaid skirt and sweater covering her body. Her hair was long and dark, a mess of tangles that fell past her shoulders. Her skin was ashen grey, barely clinging to her limbs and her face as she stared out at the audience, stared out at Santana with big black eyes.
Santana's heart raced, the blood in her temples pounding. The girl looked - well, she looked dead. Santana blinked and when she opened her eyes, the girl was gone. Had she been imagining things? Seeing things that weren't there? She gulped, glancing at Hiram. He seemed unaffected so Santana bit her lip and turned back to the stage.
The music and lights changed and then there she was, chasing all other thoughts out of Santana's head (especially bad ones). Rachel took center-stage and she took Santana's breath with her, the movement of her dark blue dress making Santana's eyes widen and her pulse race and she didn't understand it, but it felt good. Like most things with Rachel, it felt right.
When Rachel's solo was over and the lights changed again, Rachel joining the ranks of the other girls onstage, Santana jumped up and started cheering, clapping and yelling wildly before Hiram and Leroy both grabbed her and pulled her back to her seat. Hiram groaned slightly, rebuking her while Leroy stifled laughter that made her grin at him.
The people in front of her turned back to glare and the people behind her looked shocked, but Santana didn't care because her best friend was the best dancer there as far as she could tell and Rachel deserved her own special applause in the middle of the show. And Santana was going to be the one to give it to her.
Santana watched Rachel blush onstage, her cheeks and the tips of her ears turning pink as she smiled sheepishly. Rachel looked like she was trying to stop the smile that spread across her face but she was unsuccessful, grinning as she danced.
When the performance was over and the auditorium lights came back on, Santana waited impatiently for Rachel. Leroy held her hand again, this time because he caught her trying to sneak backstage. She kicked at the ground next to his foot, edging dangerously close to kicking him a few times.
Several minutes later, Rachel came out from backstage with a few other girls. She laughed and bounced on the balls of her feet as she came out of a door next to the stage, her performance dress having been replaced by a simple jacket zipped up over her leotard. She waved to some of the girls as they passed by Santana on their way to their own families.
"You were awesome," Santana said as Rachel reached her. She held her hand in front of her, the flowers clutched between her fingers. Her knuckles were turning white and her stomach felt funny, like it was flipping over itself inside her and knocking against her lungs.
Rachel smiled and took the flowers from her, twirling them in her hands. "Thanks," she replied, ducking her head slightly. "Did you like it?"
Santana nodded. "Yeah, it was cool. You were totally the best."
Rachel's smile widened. "You look really pretty," she said. "I like your dress."
Rachel looked back up at her through her eyelashes, the glitter on her cheeks catching the lights overhead. She bit her lip and Santana doesn't know why, but it made her feel nervous and excited, like it was Christmas Eve and she was waiting to get up and open her presents. Rachel was kind of like Christmas, she decided, grabbing her hand and leading her out into the cool air of late winter.
Rachel and Santana spent every Saturday together regardless of the season. Santana spent Friday nights at the Berry home, desperate and eager to get away from her own home. She was nine and her home now included her new little brother, who was really cute but even louder than she was. Rachel's house, in contrast, was much quieter, soft music floating through the living room as Hiram played the piano or Leroy put on a song. Santana had witnessed her fair share of fights between her mom and dad but she had never even seen Leroy and Hiram so much as glare at each other. It was a comforting change that she came to love.
"I got you something," she said, picking some dry cereal out of the bowl that was resting in the Rachel's lap. It was her favorite kind of cereal, the bright and colorful kind that crunched and stuck to her teeth.
Rachel bounced up. "Oh, what is it?" she asked, her voice rising in excitement.
Santana pulled her gift out from under the couch where she had stashed it the night before. She presented it proudly, smiling toothily as she handed it Rachel. She pulled her pajama-clad legs up underneath her and watched as Rachel's eyes widened.
"I can't believe it," Rachel cried. "Is this really -"
"A forty-eight count box of glitter crayons?" Santana interrupted. "Yep."
"Where did you get them?" Rachel asked, holding the box against her chest and looking at Santana like she was the best person in the whole world (and she was, as far as Rachel was concerned.)
"From the store," Santana deadpanned. "That's where you get stuff," she added, grabbing more cereal from the bowl and throwing it in her mouth.
Rachel rolled her eyes playfully, reaching over and wrapping her arms around Santana's shoulders. "Thank you," she grinned, pressing her lips to Santana's cheek lightly. Santana smiled, exhaling through her lips and glancing away from Rachel, who giggled and threw her body at the other girl. Both the bowl of cereal and Rachel's new box of glitter crayons slid to the floor as she tackled Santana, hugging her tightly and pushing her body against the couch.
Santana laughed and struggled against Rachel's body on top of hers, halfheartedly pushing at her arms to get her off. She decided that Rachel didn't need to know that Santana had lifted the glitter crayons from that Amanda girl who pushed her in the mud last week.
Santana and Rachel kept with their traditions as best they could – afternoons and evenings in the park sharing oranges under the tree they designated as theirs; Friday nights spent huddled in Rachel's bed; Santana attending Rachel's dance recitals. But it had been years since she had felt the need to sneak into Rachel's room, picking the lock on the front door instead of climbing the tree outside Rachel's window. She was strong for a twelve-year-old, but she knew she wouldn't be able to climb a tree with her brother on her back.
Rachel knew instantly that something was wrong. Santana wasn't crying, but she was certainly upset, her face contorted into a deep frown and her eyebrows furrowed. She had Marco on her back, the three-year-old's arms wrapped around her neck and his legs around her waist. He was crying.
"Santana?" Rachel asked, sitting up and rubbing at her eyes.
Santana had only just managed to slip on a pair of sneakers, her pajama pants tucked inside them as she hadn't bothered to pull the hems out. She didn't say anything as she sat on Rachel's bed, carefully sliding Marco down her back until he was sitting down. He sniffled and wet tears fell down over his cheeks.
Rachel slid across the bed, reaching out to brush her hand over the top of Marco's head. "It's okay, Marco," she whispered.
Santana pulled away from him and he fell back slightly, rocking himself. Rachel slid behind him and brought her hand to his back. Marco shifted, leaning back fully against Rachel as he continued to cry.
"It's okay," she repeated, reaching around the little boy to rest her hand on Santana's shoulder.
"Our mom left again," Santana muttered, twisting around to face them. She brushed her fingers across Marco's cheeks, whispering words to him in Spanish that Rachel couldn't understand. "They wouldn't stop yelling, you know?" she continued, focusing on Marco as he started to calm down, his sister's words having their desired effect on him. "I didn't want to leave him."
Rachel nodded, sliding her hands across Marco's shoulders and reaching up until she was able to grab Santana's wrists. She waited until Santana looked away from Marco and met her eyes over the top of his head. "You know that you're always welcome here," she said quietly. "Both of you."
Santana nodded.
The room was dark. There was moonlight shining in through the window, weaving its way through Santana's hair and over her shoulders. Santana practically glowed and all Rachel could do was sit there and hold on to her wrists for a moment. There was always something about Santana that made her insides feel mushy and her face feel hot, but in some moments, it felt like something more; something deeper and bigger than she could ever even think about. Sometimes, Rachel looked at Santana and she felt like her heart might burst.
Marco sniffled. "M'tired," he muttered.
Rachel finally looked away from Santana, releasing her hold on the other girl.
"Aren't you gonna say 'hi' to Rachel, Marco," Santana teased, tapping her finger against his nose.
"Hi," he echoed, rolling his head back to look at Rachel. "M'tired."
Rachel giggled, scooting back on the bed. "Okay, then let's all go to bed," she smiled. "I need to get my beauty sleep."
Marco rolled over and crawled across the bed, falling down face-first on to Rachel's pillow. "'M the middle," he said.
"I think we should let Santana be the middle," Rachel replied, looking at Santana.
Santana was still and quiet, seated carefully on the edge of Rachel's double bed. Rachel wanted to hug her and she wanted to lie down next to her because Santana had sleepily admitted once that she found comfort next to Rachel, sharing a blanket and pillow.
"No," Marco said, turning his head and sticking his bottom lip out at Rachel. "Sleep with you."
Rachel rolled her eyes, nudging him with her legs. "Scoot over. I'll sleep in the middle, okay?"
Marco rolled over on to his back, waiting until Rachel lay down to settle. He slid next to her, his small fingers wrapping around her arm. He sniffled quietly and closed his eyes, curling up against Rachel's body.
"Santana, come to bed," Rachel said quietly, patting the open space next to her.
Santana said nothing for a moment, sitting with her back to Rachel and pulling off her shoes. The room was quiet, the only sound the steady and persistent breathing of Marco as he slowly drifted to sleep. He whimpered softly.
Santana's shoulders shook and Rachel heard her start to cry. She slid her hand across the bed, wrapping her fingers around Santana's arm and tugging on it lightly. She ran her thumb over the soft skin of Santana's arm as the other girl's body shuddered.
"C'mon, San," she murmured. "It's okay, just come lay down."
"No, just - ah - just gimme a minute," she cried.
Rachel scooted closer to Santana, pulling on her arm. "Come here," she said softly. "Just come here."
"No," Santana insisted. "No, no, no," she repeated, her voice hoarse and quiet. She took deep breathes, her chest rising and falling heavily. "I don't want to hurt you."
"Santana, what are you talking about?" Rachel asked. "Come here," she repeated, gripping at Santana's sides and pulling on them until Santana fell back against her, struggling against her grasp. Rachel wrapped her arms around Santana's middle, holding her still as she tried to twist away from Rachel.
"Stop it," Rachel hissed. "Stop, Santana, please," she cried, her fingers pressing against Santana's stomach. She dropped her forehead to Santana's shoulder-blade. "Stop."
Santana was still crying, but her struggling diminished until she was left sobbing and halfheartedly trying to pull away from Rachel, holding her arms out in front of her and stretching her fingers forward. "I don't - I can't, Rachel. I can't," her voice cracked. She clenched her hands into fists and held them against her knees.
"Santana, please," Rachel said. "Shhh, it's okay, it's okay," she whispered, tightening her grip on Santana. She closed her eyes tightly.
"It's not," she said breathlessly. "I saw - and it's gonna -" Santana cried out softly. "I don't want to hurt you," she repeated.
"You're not," Rachel said. "You've never hurt me," she murmured gently, continuing to hold on to Santana. "And I know you won't. You're my best friend."
"What if I do? What if it happens?"
"What if what happens?"
Santana shook her head quickly. She swallowed thickly before taking a deep breathe, Rachel's arms warm and tight around her midsection, her head pressed against Santana's back. It calmed her, her breathe slowly becoming more regular and her cries waning softly into silence.
"Can I have my body back now?" Santana asked hoarsely, her throat burning slightly.
She felt Rachel pull away slightly, her hands gliding across Santana's stomach and stilling on her hips. "Sant-"
"I don't want to talk about it," Santana interrupted quietly. "Please," she added gently, "can we just go to bed?"
"Okay," Rachel nodded, pulling away from Santana completely and sliding back across the bed, checking that Marco was still asleep.
Santana shakily slid into bed next to her, lying pressed up against Rachel's side, their fingers brushing and their legs resting against one another. She sniffled again.
"I know you always say that I talk too much," Rachel whispered, moving closer to her until their sides were flush and her fingers were resting against Santana's palm, "but I'm a good listener, too."
"I know," Santana replied, curling her fingers until they lightly brushed over Rachel's. "It was - it was just a bad dream, I think," she muttered, squirming until her body was low enough that she could rest her head against Rachel's shoulder. "Our mom and dad wouldn't stop screaming at each other and it woke me up. Then she left again. It's so stupid."
"What happened? In your dream?" Rachel asked, tilting her head until it lay gently atop Santana's dark hair.
"I hurt you," Santana said simply. Rachel waited for a moment, but she said nothing more.
"It was definitely just a bad dream," Rachel told her, trailing her fingers across Santana's palm and then wrapping them around her hand, taking it in hers and holding it tightly. "You'll never hurt me."
Santana fell asleep with the hint of a nightmare she couldn't remember holding on to the back of her brain, screams and shouts echoing in her ears, and Rachel's hand in hers.
Santana was thirteen when she had her first real kiss (she had kissed Rachel many times, but they were just pecks between friends so she didn't count them.)
It was sloppy and wet, the boy from down the street puckering his lips and then smothering her mouth with them. He tasted like soda and smelled like he'd been living outside all spring, like there was a permanent essence of sweat and grass that clung to him.
"It was okay," she told Rachel afterwards. "Kind of sticky, I guess."
"Sticky?" Rachel wondered, rolling over on to her stomach to face Santana. She pulled one the pillow on her bed up underneath her chest. "Is it supposed to be sticky?"
Santana shrugged, kicking her legs out in front of her and hitting Rachel's desk chair. She ran her fingers over the edge of the desk she was sitting on, curling them around it. "I don't know," she said. "Maybe? It was kind of gross."
Rachel frowned, pursing her lips. "It's not supposed to be gross," she replied. "It's supposed to be special and amazing. You're supposed to see fireworks," she started. "You're supposed to close your eyes and then when they kiss you, it's like you've never been kissed before, like you've never even been able to breathe before."
"We're not in a movie," Santana rolled her eyes. "We're in real life and I can tell you that it was quick and dirty."
"Well maybe you were doing it wrong," Rachel said matter-of factly.
Santana scoffed. "I was not," she sneered, crossing her arms and glaring at Rachel on the bed. "I was awesome."
Rachel shrugged. "If you say so," she replied, rolling off of the bed. "At least you've kissed someone. No one even wants to kiss me."
"Whatever, you're not missing anything," Santana said. "No fireworks, no nothing."
Rachel straightened her sweater and skirt, smoothing them down as she stood up. "Maybe - well maybe you didn't kiss the right person," she said, glancing towards the window.
Santana stared at her. "I don't think it really matters," she responded, uncrossing her arms and sliding her hands underneath her legs. She sucked in a breath, watching Rachel hesitantly walk towards her.
"I think it does."
Rachel stopped in front of her and Santana swallowed. The air felt thick and it made her throat constrict slowly before she exhaled. "You wouldn't know," she said.
"Maybe you could show me," she suggested quietly, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth and looking up at Santana through her lashes. She blushed, fighting off a smile as her cheeks turned pink.
"We've - uh - already kissed and stuff," Santana answered.
"Not for real," Rachel said.
Santana cleared her throat. "You want me to kiss you?"
"For practice," Rachel said quickly. She tucked her hair behind her ears. "Maybe if we practice, we'll both be good for when other people kiss us."
Santana nodded, suddenly aware of how close Rachel was, of the gentle curve of her lips and the way her eyes shined. Rachel's fingertips brushed over her knees, resting against the tops of her calves as her hands curled against them. "Right," Santana murmured. "For practice."
Rachel licked her lips, her tongue peaking out quickly to wet them.
"How -" Santana paused. Her voice was hoarse, rough and quiet. She cleared her throat again. "How do you want to do this?" she asked. Santana pulled her hands from underneath her thighs, resting them on the desk. Her palms were sweaty.
Rachel's eyes darted down to her lips for a moment. "Just," she swallowed. "Just kiss me?"
"Okay," Santana whispered. Rachel's hands tightened around her legs as she leaned down, her eyes slipping shut.
Rachel's lips were soft as they slid against her own, soft and gentle as she pressed forward against them, tilting her head slightly. Rachel's hands slid across Santana's cheeks, palms and fingertips dancing over her skin with just a hint of pressure that made Santana glad that was sitting down because her knees felt weak.
Rachel was wrong, she decided, curling her fingers over Rachel's shoulders as they kissed softly. It wasn't first kisses that were special and amazing; it was definitely second kisses. She was wrong about being able to breathe, too, because Santana had never felt as breathless as she did when Rachel tentatively swiped her tongue over Santana's lips for the first time.
Santana's fourteenth Valentine's Day came with pink papier-mâché decorations and colorful candy hearts. It brought Rachel a stuffed teddy bear with a bedazzled microphone and it brought Santana a simple envelope with her name on it left in the mailbox that her mother brought up to her, a knowing smile on her face.
Santana blushed despite her best efforts to keep her face from heating up, glancing at Rachel and running her finger over the heart sticker keeping the flap on the envelope closed. It was a simple cream colored envelope with Santana written on the front in red. A little heart was drawn in the corner.
"Who's that from, San? Is it your boyfriend?" Marco teased, flitting around her bedroom. The stuffed lion Rachel had given him swung wildly in his arms as he giggled and tried to dodge the hand Santana swatted at him.
"Cállate mocoso," Santana cried, looking away and hoping that Rachel wouldn't notice how nervous she was. "Shut up," she repeated.
He laughed and swung his lion at Santana.
"Marco," Rachel said, smiling brightly as she sat down on the bed next to Santana. "Don't tease your sister."
Marco stopped his lion mid-swing, flushing and looking at the ground. He pulled the lion up to his chest and rocked on his heels. "Sorry, Rachel," he muttered.
"Don't apologize to me, apologize to Santana."
He kicked at the ground awkwardly. "Sorry, San. I won't tease you about your boyfriend no more."
Rachel laughed and Santana stood up, lunging at her little brother. Marco's eyes widened as he fled from his sister's room, slamming the door shut behind him and yelling. Santana flopped back on the bed, muttering. "Stupid little -"
"So...boyfriend, huh?"
Santana sat up, grabbing Rachel's hand and pulling her down on the bed. "Yeah, sure, my imaginary boyfriend," she grinned.
"Well you do have a secret admirer," Rachel said. She nudged Santana, bouncing up slightly. "Go on, open it."
"Okay, okay, chill out," Santana rolled her eyes, breaking through the sticker and pulling the envelope open. Her fingers skirted across the opening and reached inside, pulling out a large star, its points rounded. It was bright and gold and she looked instantly at Rachel. "Seriously?" she asked, the hint of a smile playing at her lips.
Rachel grinned at her. She shrugged, her foot tapping against Santana's.
Santana opened the star, seeing familiar looping letters scribbled inside in black. "You're the shooting star I wish on every night," it read. "Happy Valentine's Day, Santana!"
"Wow, I wonder who it's from," Santana deadpanned, trying to stop the way her lips twitched and tried to stretch into the biggest grin she'd ever sent at Rachel. It was lame and cheesy in the adorable way that Santana had come to associate with her best friend.
"I don't know," Rachel said. "Your secret imaginary boyfriend?"
"Uh-huh, sure," Santana drawled knowingly. She leaned over, wrapping her free arm around Rachel and pulling her into a quick hug. "Thanks, Rachel," she said grudgingly, playfully rolling her eyes.
Rachel turned slightly, sliding her hands around Santana's waist and returning her hug. She sighed contentedly. "I really want to practice kissing with you right now," she admitted quietly.
Santana kept her arm around Rachel, holding up the gold star with her other hand and pulling away slightly. "Make a wish?"
"I wish you would kiss me."
And so Santana did.
"I-I don't know what I'm doing," Rachel admitted, her fingers gripping Santana's shoulders tightly. They were fifteen and Rachel had begged Santana for her help, pleading with her until Santana couldn't help but roll her eyes and agree to what Rachel wanted; it was an all too familiar situation for Santana, saying 'yes' to Rachel.
"It's okay," Santana said. "Just like," she paused, hands sliding down Rachel's sides to hold on to her thighs. Her fingers trailed down until she reached Rachel's knees and she pulled them upwards. "Wrap your legs around my waist," she urged. "That - that'll give him a better angle or whatever."
Rachel did as she was told, spreading her legs and wrapping them around Santana's waist. Her ankles dug into Santana's lower back and when Santana shifted against her, she gasped. "Oh."
Santana's eyebrows furrowed. "Uh, yeah," she muttered. She pressed her arms against Rachel's sides, her palms coming to rest underneath Rachel's shoulders. Rachel's hands slid up over her cheeks and her temples as she brushed the hair out of Santana's face. "And - and then he'll like -" Rachel's hips bucked up and she groaned. "Fuck."
Rachel's eyes were dark and shining and she looked up at Santana with trust. She was panting slightly and a light sheen of sweat clung to her skin. It was way hotter than it should have been and the way Santana's insides felt so tight and her thighs felt so sticky was wrong in ways that made her stomach flutter and her muscles quiver.
Rachel's fingers threaded through her hair and eventually gripped at the back of her neck. "Don't stop," she whispered, leaning up to kiss Santana, her lips soft and swollen as she lightly pressed them against Santana.
"I don't know what I'm doing," Santana muttered against her lips. She ground her hips down and her eyelashes fluttered.
Rachel tightened her grip on Santana's neck, continuing to press light kisses to her lips. "It's okay," she gasped. "Just don't stop."
"I don't like him," Rachel said, slipping her shoes on.
Santana shrugged, sliding her backpack on and turning the lamp in her room off. "He's not so bad when you get used to him," she replied. "And he's a football player."
"Is that all you care about? That he can throw a ball?"
Santana rolled her eyes. "Well it certainly doesn't hurt," she scoffed. She waved her arm at Rachel. "Let's just go already."
Rachel sighed, gripping the top of Santana's window and raising her leg to swing it over the windowsill, Santana's hands gripping her hips to steady her as she pulled herself out on to the roof. She carefully began stepping around the window, holding on to outside of it with a death grip as she maneuvered upwards on the roof of the Lopez home.
Santana swung out of her window with ease, skirting along the window quickly. The top of the window was flat and she had discovered that if she was careful, she could climb up and around the window to sit on top of it, reclining back against the upwards slope of the roof.
She dropped her backpack on top of the window, carefully jumping up and pulling her knees up to her chest. Rachel was moving slowly and she reached out to steady her, offering Rachel her hand. "Come on already," she said. "My abuelita moves faster than you do."
"Excuse me for not wanting to fall and break my neck, or worse, my talent," Rachel replied, squeezing Santana's fingers and grabbing the edge of the window-top.
"Oh please, you would become a mute before you'd break your talent," Santana scoffed, "and we all know that you never shut up so..." she trailed off, grabbing Rachel's free hand and hoisting her upwards until Rachel landed ungracefully on top of the window, falling against her.
Rachel righted herself, brushing her hair out of her face and straightening out her pajama pants. She exhaled a burst of air and leaned back slightly, crossing her legs at the ankle. Santana busied herself with unpacking her backpack, throwing a blanket at Rachel to lay against the rough roof behind them while she took out a couple cans of soda.
Santana reclined against the roof, shifting the blanket behind them slightly. She opened her can of soda and passed the other one to Rachel. "He's not a bad guy, you know," she said. "Alex is just..." she trailed off, sipping her drink.
"A boy," Rachel finished. "The boy whom you are dating," she sighed, opening her own drink.
"Yeah, exactly, he's my boyfriend," Santana rolled her eyes, shifting down slightly until her shoulder collided with Rachel's gently. "You're still my bestie or whatever."
It stung Rachel, the way Santana so casually referred to them as best friends. They had always been best friends, but they had eventually delved into deeper territory and just when Rachel was starting to get used to the way Santana kissed her and held her and made her feel special, Santana had pulled back from her and found a boyfriend.
"Are you in love with him?" Rachel asked quietly, tilting her head to look at the sky. She felt Santana look at her, could see Santana turn her head out of the corner of her eye. There was silence between them for a moment and Rachel looked to the stars instead, tracing the skyline with her gaze.
The horizon was tinted orange near the tops of the houses they were facing, the city lights shining brightly enough that a dull pink-orange had settled permanently near the skyline. But when she looked straight up and narrowed her eyes, she could ignore the lights and just look at the stars, silver and gold specks sparkling and shining down on them from their place in the sky. It was dark and it was beautiful and it made Rachel sigh.
"I'm just dating him," Santana said, shrugging her shoulders. "Nobody said anything about love."
"Then why are wasting your time with him if you don't love him?" Rachel asked, uncrossing her legs at the ankle and resting her hands on her stomach.
"God, not everything is about love," Santana practically spat. She shook her head slightly, scoffing. "We have a good time together. That's what people fucking do."
"You don't have to get so defensive, Santana, though it is telling that you're so upset about this."
Santana's eyes narrowed. "I will push you off of this roof," she said evenly.
"You wouldn't dare," Rachel gasped.
Santana pursed her lips, reaching her arms around Rachel's waist and resting her hands on either side of Rachel's midsection. Rachel's back arched up over the arm she slid between Rachel's body and the roof. Santana glared at her, cursing Rachel for giving her a hard time for dating a boy, for the curve of her back as it arched slightly on top of her arm and the way it made her stomach muscles tighten.
"Try me," she muttered menacingly.
Rachel rolled her eyes, relaxing against Santana's body, scooting over slightly until she was leaning against the other girl, her back resting slightly on top of Santana's front. Santana's hands were still on her waist, her palms flat and her fingers brushing just below the hem of Rachel's sweater.
"We're going to miss the meteor shower," she said softly.
Santana's hands slid over her waist and around to her stomach as she shifted slightly, holding Rachel against her. "Whatever," she grumbled. "You're lucky I'm cold."
"Mm-hmm," Rachel hummed contently. She swallowed, feeling Santana's breath run across her neck. She slid her hands over Santana's arms, resting them gently on top of Santana's, lacing their fingers together. "Is this okay?" she asked breathlessly.
Santana's fingers flexed in hers. "Uh, yeah, it's cool."
Rachel nodded, turning her head back up towards the sky. It was vast and it stretched on past forever, the stars they were seeing likely already dead. It made Rachel feel small and she tightened her grip on Santana's hand. "Do you remember when we went on that camping trip when we little? And we snuck out to go look at the stars?"
"You mean that time you dragged me out of the sleeping bag and pulled me through the woods like a damn ragdoll?" Santana asked playfully. "Yeah, I remember."
Rachel grinned, laughing lightly. "I don't know what came over me. I just remember thinking that it was very important that we go out to see the stars."
"I never know what comes over you," Santana smirked.
Rachel scoffed, tugging on Santana's hands until she felt the other girl's chin bump into her shoulder. "Honestly," she huffed, holding on to Santana's arms. She took a deep breath, softening her expression and her voice and struggling against the way her stomach tensed beneath the soft movement of Santana's fingers. "Do you remember when we made wishes together on a shooting star?"
Santana was quiet for a long moment, her chin still on Rachel's shoulder. "Yeah," she finally said, "I remember."
"Do you remember what you wished for?"
Rachel continued looking up at the stars, waiting for the first sign of any meteors that were supposed to be visible that night. Santana was silent behind her and Rachel eventually tilted her head downwards, turning until she could look at the other girl. "Santana?"
Santana was close to her, her chin resting gently on Rachel's shoulder as she stared at her. Her features were soft, her eyes wide and dark, her lips parted slightly. She exhaled and her breath mingled with Rachel's between them. "I wished that we could be together forever," she whispered, her fingers clenching, digging into Rachel's stomach slightly.
"That was my wish, too," Rachel said quietly, smiling, the corners of her lips just barely quirking upwards. Movement above them caught her eye and she tore her gaze away from Santana, pointing upwards as a handful of shooting stars streaked across the sky. "Now we can make another wish," she said.
"I don't need another wish," Santana eventually said.
"No?"
"No," Santana echoed, squeezing Rachel and pressing the side of her head against Rachel's cheek. Her eyes slipped closed and she inhaled deeply. "No, I don't need another wish," she repeated, her voice thick with an emotion that caught in her throat.
"I don't like him," Rachel said after a moment.
"Then he's gone," Santana answered immediately.
"I don't like that you're kissing him and having sex with him," Rachel continued. "I don't like the way he looks at you and I certainly don't like the way you look at him. You don't need him, Santana; you just...you just need to be happy," she finished.
"I already said he's gone," Santana muttered.
"I know, but just -" she trailed off, sighing. A few more meteors shot across the sky, appearing and disappearing in short bursts. "I have a new wish," she started.
"Mm-hmm," Santana hummed.
"I wishe that when you kissed me, it wasn't just practicing," Rachel said, her voice catching in her throat. "I wish it meant something to you."
Santana's fingers slid across Rachel's stomach, eventually resting on her hips. "It does...mean something," she rasped, "it does, okay?"
Rachel finally tore her eyes away from the sky, pulling her gaze away from the stars shooting overhead to look back at Santana again. Santana's eyes were still closed and Rachel licked her lips, leaning towards her, their noses brushing. She felt Santana's hands squeeze her hips. "Show me," she whispered. "Please show me that it means something."
Santana closed the distance between them, pressing her lips against Rachel's. Rachel twisted in her arms, turning to meet her slowly. She was soft, the way she always was, soft and warm and tender. "It always fucking meant something," she sighed against Rachel's lips. She raised one of her hands, brushing her thumb lightly over Rachel's cheek. "Means I kind of love you," she said, "or whatever."
Rachel's fingers caressed her inner arm, holding on to her as she pressed her cheek against Santana's palm. "Or whatever?"
Santana nodded. "Or what-the-fuck-ever," she said, kissing Rachel again. Like it meant something. It had always meant something, ever since the first press of Rachel's lips against hers when they were little girls. She slid her hand through Rachel's hair, pulling her closer because it was important, because there were shooting stars and there was Rachel and she wanted to hold on to everything.
She tightened her grip on Rachel's hair and held her close, holding on to everything because everything was Rachel. It was the way they were meant to be and Santana would accept nothing else.
the angels never arrived, but I can hear the choir so won't someone come and carry me home tonight
"This had better be important," Santana muttered into the speaker of her cell phone, twisting in her bedsheets as she eyed the clock. "It is four in the fucking morning. I will ends you."
"San-Santana?" she heard quietly. The voice on the other end of the line cracked for a moment, the speaker sniffling and breaking out into a harsh sob.
Santana sat up in bed, throwing her blanket off of her. "Rachel? Rachel, what's wrong?" she asked immediately, sliding her legs off of the bed and slipping on the nearest pair of jeans.
"Can you -" Rachel sputtered, holding back another cry. "Can you come pick me up?"
"Just tell me where you are," Santana said. She put her jacket on and grabbed her car keys. "Rachel?"
The connection crackled. "I love you, you know that right?" Rachel gasped. Santana could hear the tears in her voice, could picture the way her face was probably contorted, brows furrowed and lips trembling.
"Of course," Santana answered, not bothering to sneak out of her house. She took the steps two at a time and barely remembered to lock the front door behind her. "And you know I love you," she said, "Tell me where you are so I can come get you, okay?"
"I'm at the...at the park," Rachel told her. "I'm at our tree. You know the one - where we used to meet after school and spend -"
"Yeah, I know the one," Santana interrupted, sliding into the front seat of her car. "Stay on the line, baby," she added. "I'll be there in like, five minutes, okay?"
Rachel swallowed a sob. "I'll be waiting for you," she cried breathlessly. "Remember that I love you, okay? No matter what happens, just remember that," she said, her voice rising. "All of my life -"
Santana tried to interrupt her but Rachel's choked sob cut her off, "no, listen to me, Santana. All of my life has been about you; and all of yours has been about me. Even when you didn't want it to be, it was. And I just...I need you to know that. I need you to know that I have loved you for my entire life," she went silent for a moment, her breath catching in her throat, "for all of them."
The line went silent.
"Rachel? Rachel! Fuck," Santana yelled, throwing her phone on top of the dashboard and speeding up, taking the next turn a little faster than she should have as she swore again. Her heart was racing and her knuckles were white, burning as she gripped the steering wheel as hard as she could.
Something was happening with Rachel, something that left her sobbing in the park in the middle of the night and saying things that almost felt to Santana like "good bye."
She smacked her palm against the steering will, pressing down against the gas pedal even harder.
Santana reached the park quickly, skidding to a halt in the parking lot and jumping out of her car, throwing the door closed behind her and practically running towards the familiar tree tucked away behind the slid. They had kissed under that slide, she remembered, brushing her hand over the metal as she passed it; she had given Rachel her juice, her first kiss, and her heart right before Rachel decided that they had to get married one day. (She had always been okay with that plan.)
She spotted Rachel as she reached the trees, leaning back against the rough tree bark of the same big tall tree they always spend the afternoons under, eating fruit and singing songs together. Rachel's arms were crossed over her chest, her face crumpled and contorted in pain. She was still crying.
"Rachel," she called out, reaching her girlfriend and pulling her off of the tree, her fingers curling around Rachel's arms. She ran her eyes over Rachel's body quickly, looking for blood or dirt or some sign that she had been hurt. Nothing was amiss.
"Are you okay? What the fuck happened?"
Rachel threw her arms around Santana, burying her face in the soft material of Santana's jacket. Her hands clenched into fists that bunched up the fabric against her back. "I'm so sorry," she muttered. "Santana," she cried. "There was this man and I was just - I didn't want to lose you but I didn't want you to -"
"What are you talking about?" Santana wrapped one arm around Rachel's shoulders, pulling away to cup Rachel's cheek. She brushed the hair off of her forehead. "Rachel, you know you can't lose me," she said gently, rolling her eyes slightly. "You're fucking stuck with me, got it? You couldn't make me go away."
To Santana's surprise, Rachel's face fell even further, the corners of her mouth slipping down as her bottom lip trembled and her eyes watered. "Shit, babe," Santana muttered. "That wasn't the reaction I was going for."
Rachel's hands shook as they glided across Santana's back and around her sides, her fingers curling around the edges of the lapels. She shivered, fresh tears slipping down her cheeks. "He was going to hurt you and I couldn't let that happen," she said shakily, eyes fixed on Santana's jacket. "I'm doing this for you but it's not your fault and I just - I couldn't let him hurt you."
Santana bobbed her head, leaning down until Rachel had no choice but to look at her. "What are you talking about?" she asked, her eyes narrowing. "No one's gonna hurt me. I'm a fucking badass," she quipped, curling her lips.
Rachel's cries grew stronger and Santana's smile fell as Rachel shook her head. "What did you do?" she whispered. "Rachel?"
Rachel sniffled. "I did this for us," her voice cracked. "I did this for you," she sobbed, "maybe next time, we'll get our chance. We'll try again, Santana," she mumbled. "We'll try again, okay?"
"I doubt it," a new voice said. "That's the thing about life, you know? You can keep trying," it said, "and perhaps you might think you're succeeding, but really, you're just running around like a puppy chasing your own tail."
Santana noticed him then, a man leaning against their tree. He was tall and his limbs were long, one leg resting against the trunk of the tree and the other bent at the knee, his foot against the bark behind him.
"That's the thing about death, too," he continued, standing up straight and pulling himself up to his full height. "You live, you die, and then you do it all over again," he said. "It's all quite circular. For you anyway," he added, rolling his shoulders.
"Who the hell are you?" Santana sneered. "Go the fuck back to your underpass, asshole," she said, tightening her grip on Rachel, her hands holding on to Rachel's shoulders.
"Ah, you never remember," he said, shaking his head and sighing. "In due time, I suppose," he shrugged. "I can't leave until the terms of our agreement have been met -"
"I didn't make any fucking agreement," Santana interrupted.
"I was talking to Rachel," he replied, inspecting his fingernails with little interest. "It's her turn now. Let's make this the last time, yes? Life and death are cyclical but I for one would like to get off the ride."
Santana took a step away from the tree, pulling Rachel with her. "Okay, someone needs to tell me what the fuck is going on," she demanded.
Rachel exhaled shakily, trembling in her arms. She pressed her palms to either side of Santana's neck, thumbs brushing across Santana's cheeks. "I love you so much," she whispered firmly. "I agreed to this for us because -" she hesitated, closing her eyes as she pulled Santana's head towards her, resting her forehead against the other girl's, "because I didn't want you to die. I made a deal so that you could live."
"Rachel, what -"
Rachel kissed her, cutting off her words with her lips. They trembled as they pressed against Santana's, Rachel's tears on her own cheeks.
The man rolled his eyes. "Please, spare me," he scoffed, his features devoid of any affect whatsoever, hands slipping inside his pockets as he stared at the two of them. "Rachel, we mustn't delay this any longer."
Rachel surged forward, kissing Santana and hoping that she understood one day, that she would understand and forgive Rachel for putting her through something so traumatic. Santana would survive and hopefully, what they had would be enough to get Rachel through, too. "I love you," she whispered again.
She pulled away then, shrugging out of Santana's arms and taking a few steps away from her. "Please remember that," she said, closing her eyes.
Rachel took a deep breath, steeling herself. She heard the sound of a gun being cocked behind her, the sound of the trigger being squeezed. She heard Santana scream, the sound echoing in her ears like the familiar lullaby of another life. She felt the bullet as it entered her back and then she saw nothing.