A/N: Thank you so much for all the reviews. It makes me speechless when I sign in to my e-mail account and have so many different notifications from this story. Now, there were a lot of good guesses, and a few people guessed things that will be in the story later on, but two people guessed exactly the thing I was thinking of. Hysterical laughter, gleek06216 and Cameo45, you win a prize! Please PM me with your question or request!

Oh, and Puck doesn't own the tattoo parlour, he just works there.

They take a taxi to Puck's tattoo parlour. Santana rattles on the whole way and she's never felt more grateful to her than right now. She hates cars and only gets in them when absolutely necessary but every time she clicks her seatbelt into place, she hovers on the edge of a panic attack.

She's not just scared about the car ride though. She has no idea why she told Santana that she'd come along for the ride but she's already regretting that decision. She doesn't want to see Puck, not after their last confrontation. In fact, she'd be more than happy to never see him again but being roommates with Brittany destroys that option.

As soon as they turn onto the street with Puck's tattoo parlour, her face pales and her hands go all clammy.

She recognises this street. This is where she ran to the other night when she and Puck got into their massive argument. This is supposed to be her safe haven, away from everything, where she can come and think about what should have been. This is supposed to be hers and Finn's.

Sitting in the centre of the street is the mechanics office, and straight across from that is the small tattoo parlour she remembered observing last week.

The taxi slows down by the side of the road and Santana jumps out. She nervously follows suit and walks behind Santana and into the tattoo parlour.

(This place was supposed to have nothing to do with Puck).

Santana marches in like she owns the place and a startled Puck lifts his head out of the magazine he was flicking through. She can see pictures of cars on the pages and oh god, this has to be his idea of a joke.

"Satan... Rachel!" he says softly, his eyes roaming her face. "Rachel, do you mind if we talk?"

She doesn't. She has a lot of stuff she needs to say to him and it has to be now, while she still has the nerve. She nods her head and follows him into one of the small tattoo booths, while Santana makes herself comfortable on the sofa they have in the corner.

"Rachel, I'm really sorry. All I've done since that night is kick myself for being so stupid. I was in a bad mood over the whole Quinn situation and I took it out on you because you were there and I felt like I could. Santana would have fought back and Brittany would have cried but you were there and I needed someone to take my anger out on. And then I thought you were lying to me about your boyfriend and the situation you had with him and I was just so angry because Quinn was back and she's a lying bitch and I just needed one person to not lie to me. I know it's no excuse but I'm sorry"

"I forgive you... for that. I get that you just needed a scapegoat. I forgave you the minute you walked out of the door. What I don't forgive you for is this!"

"What do you mean?"

"I have no idea how you found out or how you went about executing your plan but I don't care. I don't need to know. All I know is that this is disgusting and sick and you are an awful human being", she yells.

"Wait... what?"

"No one knew about the mechanic shop except people back in Ohio. Close family and friends only. I didn't mention it to you – I haven't mentioned it to anyone here – so I have no idea how you found out but for you to destroy the only place I had to think of Finn by inserting yourself into it... it's a truly disgraceful thing to do"

"Rachel, slow down. You gotta explain what the hell you're talking about, 'cos I'm fucking lost"

"The goddamn mechanic shop – Finn's mechanic shop. The mechanics across the road was where Finn was supposed to be working when we came to New York, but you couldn't let me have that for myself. You had to ruin that too!" she screams, trying her best to ignore the tears prickling her eyes.

"Wait... the mechanics shop? The articles didn't say anything about that..." he says, his voice trailing off into silence as he realizes what he's just said.

"Articles?"

"As in... the magazine articles you had lying around the dorm room"

"Don't mess with me Puck. Explain what the hell you're talking about right now"

She listens with horror as Puck explains how he e-mailed the school receptionist and read every single article ever written about her. She blinks back tears when she learns that he knows about Tina, Artie and Kurt as well. Her heart breaks when he talks of how he learnt that she was so strong – strong enough to pull herself out of a wrecked car. She has to remind herself that she's only imagining the smell of petrol.

"…but I swear I didn't know about the mechanics shop. That's just a fluke Rachel…"

When he finishes his story, all she can feel is overwhelming anger.

"So you know that I tried to crawl back into the car to save them? You know that it exploded right in front of my eyes and I just had to lie there and watch as everyone I loved went up in flames? You're aware that I begged the paramedics to save my friends because they couldn't be dead… it just wasn't possible"

"Rachel…"

"I guess you know that I was ready to kill myself – that if I had found anyway to do it, I wouldn't be standing in front of you right now. I guess you know how painful it was for me to learn how to walk again. You obviously know that I could feel their eyes on me with every shaky step I took in physiotherapy. You obviously know all of that – it must have popped up in your extensive research"

"Rachel…"

"Don't Rachel me. What did you think your research would accomplish? Did you think I'd be grateful?"

"I wasn't thinking, okay? I wanted to know more without forcing you to relive it. I guess I thought I could be the person you could talk to about things…" his voice trails off as he runs his hand over his closely shaven head.

"You thought wrong" she whispers back and silence engulfs the room. She turns her back on him and stares at the wall while he sinks into a small armchair in the corner of the room, normally reserved for customers and their friends.

Within two minutes, Santana bursts into the room, her eyes concerned but a concealing smirk on her face. "It's been quiet for a couple of minutes… I was worried that Rachel had snapped and was in the process of killing you Puck", she teases, her voice light-hearted and teasing but her eyes are solemn as she stares at Puck.

Of course she'd take Puck's side. They're practically brother and sister and she's just Brittany's roommate. Silently, she walks out of the room and out of the tattoo parlour, tears rolling down her cheeks. Her family is gone and now she's screwing up someone else's.

She walks until she reaches the NYU campus. It takes forever but she knows Brittany won't be home and she needs time to think.

She starts throwing clothes into a bag as soon as she gets to the room. She can't stay here anymore – it's too much like what she lost and she can't bear it. It's like history repeating itself and she's terrified of becoming close to these people (this family) in case they leave her (again).

Her phone stops her progress, beeping three times within the space of two minutes. Sighing, she makes her way to her phone.

Three new messages: Santana

[6.03pm]: Drop that shirt now. I know you're packing but that's stupid, so stop right now.

[6.03pm]: Seriously Rach, drop the freaking shirt. Puck's not said anything about what happened between the two of you but he looks sorry so I let him move back in. That doesn't mean we're choosing his side so unpack now.

[6.04pm]: I'm on Puck's computer now so you better send me pictures of you unpacking your bags.

Chuckling slightly at Santana's antics, she grabs her camera from its place of honour on the desk (it was a graduation present from Kurt), and takes a couple of photos of her bag getting progressively emptier, before sending the Latina a quick text.

I was holding a pair of jeans, not a shirt Santana. You're losing your touch.

She crawls into bed, ready for an early night, and falls asleep in under ten minutes.

(Her hand buried under the pillow strokes a picture of the five of them, beaming in their graduation caps and gowns).

A/N #2: I look forward to three PM's in my inbox very soon! Oh and the game for this chapter… there's another bit of foreshadowing for what will happen in the next chapter, so start guessing!