Puck opens the door for them and actually helps them inside, and looking between them, seems to realize that neither girl is in the shape to drive. Shrugging, he slides behind the wheel, starts up the car, and glances into the backseat, where Santana is clinging to Rachel, her forehead pressed into her shoulder.

"Uh…temple? okay?" he said uncertainly, but as he goes to the same that Rachel does, he knows how to get there. He drives, occasionally glancing back at them.

Rachel felt pathetic needing Puck's help but he didn't question them, he knew enough of what had happened to know that neither of them were in the right frame of mind. When he agreed to take them to temple she rubbed Santana's back gently and held her as close as possible.

"Thank you." She whispered. It was an odd request but it was something she needed, she needed to try and restore her faith in humanity and that was the place for her to do so, or at least that's what she thought.

Santana doesn't know what to expect from Temple. She's never been to one, as she has been raised Catholic, and normally she would be somewhat curious. But today she simply gets out of the car somewhat numbly when Puck parks, her arm wrapped around Rachel's waist as she walks with her to its entrance. Now that she is away from the school she is breathing easier, and when Puck puts a hand on her shoulder, asking again if she's okay, she is able to swallow and nod in response.

When they walk inside Rachel closes her eyes for a brief moment and let herself relax a little more as the familiarity surrounded her. She didn't think as she walked up to the front and sat in the second row, her eyes fall shut and her head bows a little. It's then that she begins to pray, for those that were killed, for Santana, for herself and for justice to be served to Tyler and for someone to help him. She doesn't pay attention to how long she's still with her eyes shut. She just knows that she needs this, she needs this time to try and make peace with everything.

Santana had always had a dubious relationship with God, especially since her dawning awareness of her sexuality, more so because of what has happened now at the school. She isn't sure what the rules of the temple are, or even what she herself feels, and although she had prayed during the shooting, she has not done so since. She stands awkwardly, and when Puck touches her shoulder, she slips her arm through his, leaning into him as his arm circles her shoulders. She notices that his head is bowed, that he seems to be praying too, but she keeps hers lifted, watching.

Eventually Rachel opens her eyes, lifts her head and wipes away her tears. Her eyes roam around the humble place of worship and remembers when she first met Puck there when they were children. Standing up she goes to both Santana and Puck and wraps her arms around them only to have Puck hold her tightly to him.

"Thank you.. for.. bringing me here," she whispered.

There was some clarity in her mind but it wasn't nearly enough for her to feel normal again. It was just enough for her to realize that she needed to come more often when it was empty.

Santana lifts one arm to wrap around Rachel, the other still wound around Puck. Puck squeezes them both, his touch gentle, and he kisses Rachel's head, then after a few moments, Santana's too.

"No problem…say the place to go, and I play chaffuer or whatever," he said, shrugging. Another pause, and he says gruffly but with sincerity, "What happened…it's really fucked up, and I'm just glad you're both here."

Santana swallows, her grip on them both tightening, but she says nothing. She hasn't spoken since leaving the school, and she feels little sense of peace now. Standing here in a place of worship has only made her feel hollow, for what is there for her to believe in now? What does she worship, if anything? How could any God allow this to have happened?

Part of her still believed that everything that had happened, all the suffering she and the others were going through, was punishment of a kind for herself, maybe for them too. And what kind of God would do that to her? No matter how horrible she had been?

Rachel held onto them both as though her life depended on it. In other circumstances she would have gone to Finn for help but Santana was the only one who got it and Puck he was just there but it was strangely comforting. She wasn't entirely sure what to believe anymore or why everything happened the way it did but she had to just keep going, somehow. It was sink or swim and she was in the middle, caught in a rip tide going nowhere.

"Home?" She asked, her gaze set on Santana wondering where she wanted to be considering they had missed school now.

Santana didn't want to go home. She didn't want to see her mother's disappointment and sympathy and hear her father's disappointment in her, his insistence that tomorrow would be different and she would complete the whole day. She didn't want to go anywhere, even to Rachel's home, because her fathers might mention to her parents she was there. Instead, she looked to Puck, hoping he'd offer elsewhere. Clueless, he shrugged, looking at Rachel.

"If that's where you wanna be."

Rachel bit her lip nervously, she knew only one of her dads would be home but would he pass on information that they were there? She wasn't sure. But she didn't know where else they could go. Puck on the other hand had an idea.

"What about the lake? I can stay with you and make sure you're both safe."

Santana looked at Rachel, checking with her what she thought, and then back at Puck. She could think of no better idea, and she always did like the lake. Maybe it would be okay. Maybe, if it was even possible, sort of fun, even.

"Okay," she gave her approval. "I guess so."

Rachel just nodded and let Puck lead his way back to his truck. Getting into the back again she slumped down into the seat. She was physically and emotionally exhausted and just needed to rest her eyes. As they headed to the lake she shut her eyes and her breathing settled down entirely as she breathed slowly.

As Puck pulled in, Santana sits up, pulling away from Rachel. She had been sitting with her shoulder against hers, and now she tries to give her a smile as she gets out. So many memories here with Brittany and Quinn, with Puck, and usually it makes her smile to come here. Today though she is quiet, glancing at the two of them.

Getting out of the truck she looked out at the park as Puck's hand found it's way into hers giving it a reassuring squeeze. There isn't much to say, he's there and he's being an amazing moral support but Rachel still felt so lost and confused. Heading towards the lake she found a spot where Finn had taken her on a date once when they were together and sat down there. Her fingers fiddled with her gold star necklace and sat there staring out at the water with the sun light flickering off of it.

Santana slowly walks forward towards the water, coming to a stop at its edge. She feels okay at the moment, safe, to separate from Rachel, and she is fairly assured that Rachel is safe too, with Puck there watching. As she looks out across the water, she finds her thoughts drifting back to earlier memories there, swimming with her friends, tanning with Quinn and Brittany, making out in the water with Puck. Even throughout this year, she and Puck have made out and even had a quickie once, right here at this lake, as recently as a few weeks ago. Their relationship is not exactly what could be technically called one, first because of Puck, then because of Santana, and she knows that it's not really him, but Brittany, she wants. But as she looks at the water, the nostalgia she feels for a time even a few weeks ago is strong, and she bites her lip, crossing her arms.

This isn't right. She should be skipping school to go swimming here, not to watch Rachel pray at temple and sit. She should be teasing Puck now with her body, writhing on him and making sure everyone knew how much she supposedly liked him. She should be making Brittany piggyback her in her bikini and splashing water on Quinn, she should be dancing to lame music and having the time of her life. She's sixteen and she already wonders if any of that will happen again.

She's sixteen, and instead of any of that, she's standing with utter seriousness with a girl she's supposed to hate and the boy she's supposed to love, neither label which is strictly true, trying to feel nothing.

Puck stood by them both and pulled Rachel back up to her feet. She leaned heavily against him, entirely lacking any signs of life in her eyes. She was numb and stuck in a void of confusion. He could tell something wasn't right with either of them and grabbed a rock for Rachel. Sitting it in the palm of her hand she closed her hand around it when she noticed a weight sitting there. With a little help she skimmed the rock across the water and watched as it inevitably sank.

What was she doing? She was meant to hate Santana and her and Puck were meant to act like they didn't go to temple each week and sit side by side throughout the service each week. Instead she was with two people who were meant to be people she disliked finding some kind of solace in them both and pondering her future and the world and humanity in general. With each rock pressed into her palm she continued skimming them, getting better with each one but her eyes only lit up when they would sink into the water.

Santana flinches at the first rock being thrown past her, her head whipping around, but when she sees that Rachel is skimming rocks, she gives a small twitch of a smile and steps back, even with them, watching her. After a few moments she picks up a rock and skims it over the surface, more practiced than Rachel. Puck joins in, and the three continue to do so quietly for a few minutes before Santana stops.

The normal thing to do, she knew, would probably be to go to Puck and ask him to hold her, or to guide him into sitting down and sitting on his lap. Kissing him, asking to be kissed by him, those were all probably what she should be doing. But she has no desire for that. Should he initiate, she probably wouldn't say no, but he doesn't ask, and so she doesn't try.

When Santana joined in Rachel offered her a small ghost of a smile and watched as all three of their rocks skimmed across the water. But when she stops she too drops her last rock and goes over to Santana, slipping her hand into Santana's and giving it a gentle squeeze. A part of her thought that the only way they were going to get through everything was to support each other and try to be the strength they both needed.

"Nothing feels the same anymore. School is just this awful place… Nothing feels safe," she whispered as Puck looked at her with worry in his eyes.

Santana nodded, squeezing Rachel's hand back. She doesn't want to talk about it out loud. She doesn't want to talk about it, period; this is why she has been so uncharacteristically quiet. Every time she's made to talk about it, every time someone talks about it with her, it feels so wrong and unnatural to her that it normally panics her, so it seems best for her not to talk about it at all. Exactly the opposite of what her father expects.

"Want me to be your bodyguard? Special ops, at your service," Puck offers, joking, but he seemed partly serious too as he flexed his muscles, trying to make them smile. "No one messes with these babies."

But this isn't funny to Santana. She's seen football players as big or bigger than him, down with a single shot. How could anyone really ever be safe?

Rachel stared at Puck slack jawed but she knew he was being serious when he nodded. "Noah," she whispered as her grip tightened on Santana's hand.

He wasn't taking no for an answer though and she could see it in his eyes.

"It's settled, I'm walking you both to classes and picking you up for them. If you wanna leave text me and I'll take you," he said firmly, to which Rachel just nodded and gave him a small smile.

Santana smiled at him, somewhat forced at first, then more genuine. Normally she would have a sarcastic comment to add to this, but today she is just relieved, even touched by the offer. She knows the old Santana would either give him a playful push or a hug and a kiss, and yet she doesn't even have the energy lately to pretend to flirt or be attracted to him. She finally stretches slightly to kiss his lips, without tongue, and is thankful when he only returns her kiss in kind, not trying for more, and pats her back.

"Hey," he said more seriously, one hand on Santana's back, the other touching Rachel's shoulder. "What happened, it was messed up. Shoulda been me in there, I'm the one who's always in detention. Shouldn't have been either of you. I should've been there, and…you're my girls, you know? So…that's how it is."

Her mind was too preoccupied with thoughts of returning to school. When Puck spoke she looked up at him and shrugged.

"No one should have had to go through that..."

The memories hit her hard and fast, and her breathing began to change, almost out of control as she pictured again the blood blossoming over student's bodies, spilling out onto the floor.

Santana frowned, seeing Rachel's change in expression, and squeezed her hand. She rocked it slightly, talking to her.

"Hey…we're all right. We're at the lake. We're okay."

Feeling Santana's hand in her own and hearing her voice made her close her eyes and take a deep breath.

"We're okay." She repeated before looking at them both.

Turning away she yelled, "it's not fucking fair." She wasn't yelling it at them but more so at the world.

Santana's eyes widen at this; she isn't used to hearing Rachel Berry swearing. She herself has not yet vented anger towards what has happened; in fact, she hasn't felt anger. All she has felt is fear and grief. But watching Rachel stirs something in her, and she nods, then picks up a rock, hurling it into the water as far as she can. She reaches for another, then another, and joins Rachel in shouting.

"Fuck!"

When Santana started throwing rocks and joined in on the shouting Rachel kept going.

"Fucking sick asshole," she screamed into the empty area while hurling her own rock at the water.

"I hate you!" Santana shrieks, throwing rocks as fast as she can pick them up now. Her chest is heaving, her throws becoming wild, but she continues, needing to do this, needing to get this out. "I hate you, fucking hate you, how the fuck can you do this, I hate you, hate you!"

She continues throwing rocks, her yells becoming wordless, and as Puck stands back, watching, then starts to throw some rocks of his own, without yelling, she gradually winds herself down. There are tears streaming down her cheeks, and her arms are shaking, but somehow, it feels better.

Rachel continued throwing rocks and cursing as loudly as possible. When she finally calmed down she looked over at Santana and started laughing.

"That felt good," she said with a small smile lighting up her features.

Santana gives her a returning brief smile, glad to see Rachel looking happier. She wipes at her cheeks, then nods, taking a deep breath.

"Yeah…it did."

Puck is still keeping his distance, as though expecting them to keep going, but seeing them smile, he throws one last rock, then smiles back. "We done attacking the lake?"

Rachel was switching between euphoria and anger and everything in between. "Careful, you might get a rock thrown at you Noah."

Puck raised his eyebrows but laughed at her, coming over and ruffling her hair. "Angry women trynna bruise me up…hot."

Santana rolled her eyes at him, but she's smiling too. He reaches for her, tugging lightly at her hair.

"You okay?"

She's not, but she feels more okay right now than she has in days. So she nods slightly, then reaches to knuckle his shoulder.

"You throw like a girl."

Rachel smacked away his hand and pouted when he had ruffled her hair.

"You're still an ass, Noah," she said but obviously she was only teasing.

Seeing Santana smiling was like heaven on earth for Rachel and she wasn't entirely sure why but she liked it. "That was actually kind of.. therapeutic.. better than sitting in a therapists office."

"I'm not doing it again," Santana said immediately, her voice hardening. "Sitting in that woman's office while she tries to make me talk. No one can make me talk. I don't want to, and I'm not going to, and that's all."

"Whoa, so the day has come where Lopez don't got nothing to say?" Puck teased, but his voice is gentle, and he's watching her closely.

He takes a fistful of Santana's hair, tugging again lightly as he looks down at her.

"Look, 'Tana. You do what you gotta do. You want to hit stuff, I got a punching bag and huge pecs too. You wanna throw some more rocks, go for it. You scream and bawl or whatever…'s ok, I can take it. You obviously wanna hang on Rach and that's cool too, even if I gotta say it's weird as hell, kinda. But it's cool. Do what you need and don't worry about what other people say, 'cause they don't matter."

He looks at Rachel then. "You too. Do what you gotta."

Rachel nodded and rested her hand on Santana's shoulder. She understood exactly how she felt and how it felt to be talked to like they've experienced it too. Looking up at Puck she just nodded before dropping her hand and walking over to a tree that Finn had carved their names into, lightly touching the bark and trying to wrap her head around everything that was going on in the world and the fact that school shootings were so common and nothing was being done about it.

Santana watches Rachel walk away, seeing her trace the tree. The only thing they have to be grateful for, she guesses, is that none of their close friends had been hurt or killed. She couldn't have taken it if it had been someone she cared about, someone she loved. She's barely taking it now.

Somehow, it's too hard to be around most people now; Brittany makes her feel so sad for the way things used to be versus how they are now that she can barely stand to look at her, as much as she loves her, to see the sadness Brittany feels by seeing Santana so sad.

Turning around Rachel looks at Puck and Santana as she sinks down to the ground, there was no energy left in her body anymore and all she wanted was to go one night without waking up.

"You two are the only people I've spoken to this much. Kurt can't get a word out and Finn seems too scared to say anything," she admitted.

"Haven't said much, Rach. I ain't gonna write a book over it, but if you wanna talk, I'll listen or whatever."

But despite this, Santana knows what she means. It's not about talking…it's about being. Being comfortable with Rachel, comforted by her, and surprisingly, she is with Puck as well, though not quite as much. Rachel makes her feel secure and understood; Puck makes her feel physically safe.

"It's not it, it's just talking in general. Feeling comfortable. I love Kurt, he's been my best friend for years and now I clam up around him."

Santana shrugged, not wanting to analyze this. After a few moments, she reaches out for Rachel's hand, squeezing, and then back for Puck's too. he looks at her in surprise, but squeezes, rubbing his thumb over its back in a surprisingly sweet gesture.

"We're fucked up, and this is crazy," she said bluntly. "But I'll take it."

Rachel looked between them both as she squeezed Santana's hand in return. "I will too." she said softly before kissing Santana's cheek without a seconds hesitation. "I'm glad you're both here."

"Ew," Santana teased, wiping at her cheek, but she is smiling, and she doesn't let go of Rachel's hand. "I'll tolerate you, Berry."

Puck smirked at both of them, then gave them both a deliberately sloppy kiss on the cheek. "Gotta get in on the action!"

"You better," Rachel said teasingly. When Puck kissed their cheeks she laughed and pushed him away. "Don't be gross, Noah." She said with a soft laugh falling from her lips.

"That's asking him to stop existing, pretty much," Santana rejoined, but she wraps her arm through his, leaning back, still holding Rachel's hand. And for those few minutes, she can almost say she feels okay.