Inside the bathroom Rachel stared at her reflection, her fingertips tracing the path that Santana's lips had trailed along her skin. There was no denying that there was something there on her part at least and she was still tingling a little from it all. Eventually she ended up sitting on the floor and staring at the door wondering what Santana was thinking and if this was all just something she had made up in her head.

Santana wanted Rachel back in the room. The more she tried to deny this to herself, the more obvious it became. She wanted her, and that was becoming such a distraction she was considering just going into the bathroom with her and pulling her out. But how could she do that, and make it look like she couldn't stand for a minute apart from her, after KISSING her?

She debated this for several minutes, repeatedly smoothing her hands on her thighs, and then finally called out, "What, did you drown in there?"

Hearing Santana calling out to her she slowly pushed the door open and shook her head.

"Nope," she mumbled while wrapping her arms around herself and going to sit on the edge of her bed. All she was fully aware of was the fact that she wanted Santana, she wanted to experience everything with and she was dying to kiss her again. She hadn't been attracted to a girl before but she didn't care in that moment, she wasn't going to deny herself what she wanted the most.

Santana, on the other hand, is in denial city. All this time she's been separated, her mind has been on overdrive, working feverishly to try to explain to herself why it is that she has just done as she's done. The only explanation she can come up with is a weak one, but she clings to it. She has simply half brainwashed herself, by hugging and holding hands with and sleeping in the same bed as Rachel so much. She's not really gay, and she really doesn't like Rachel like that. She's just overstimulated.

"I think mami and papi are right," she blurted. "We're spending too much time together and getting too dependent."

It hurts to even say that to Rachel. She can feel her chest tighten at the thought of walking away right now, and even now she wants to lay back down with her and cuddle up. But she obviously can't handle that without losing it, can she?

Rachel couldn't bring herself to look at Santana as she spoke. What was she supposed to say to that? How was she meant to react after everything that had unfolded in the space of half an hour? Was she meant to be happy that Santana said all those things and made her feel awful? Was she supposed to rejoice when she said that all four of their parents had basically all said the same thing and been right? She didn't know what to say or do or even if she wanted to say anything. The biggest thing she wanted was to fall asleep feeling safe and protected instead of waking up in a cold sweat, panicking and unable to breathe. But she couldn't make Santana do anything she didn't want to do and she just needed to suck it up and put on a brave face like she was trying to do for everyone else too.

Rachel isn't saying anything? Why isn't Rachel saying anything? Does she agree? Does she secretly think that Santana has been pushing this on them all along? After all, hadn't Santana been the one calling her crying, isn't she the one who climbed in through her window and threw herself onto Rachel in the first place?

Or is she so hurt she can't trust herself to speak?

Santana doesn't want to look at her. She trains her eyes on a spot just past Rachel as she continues, "I should probably be spending more time with Puck. Since he's my boyfriend." She and Puck have never at any point in time defined themselves as boyfriend and girlfriend, but it seems like a good idea to say that now. "We should be…we should get over this."

Then why does it feel to her like she's about to cut off her own arms and legs?

Those next words out of Santana's mouth leave her crippled, breathless and like there was something so heavy sitting on her shoulders that she couldn't move at all. Instead silent tears fall down her cheeks and she's holding herself tighter than ever before not caring about the dull ache in her ribs.

"Do what you have to," she mumbled even though the shakiness in her voice gave away the fact that she was crying and verging on a meltdown. She wasn't sure how to handle any of this or even what to label herself now but she was trying so hard to be strong for everyone that it was starting to take it's toll on her entirely.

Santana didn't want to look at her, god, did she not. But she could hear Rachel's voice shake, and it doesn't take a psychic reading to know she must be upset .Hell, she's upset herself and she's the one saying this. Her stomach is flipping inside out, her hands are shaking, and she still doesn't want to see her. At all.

But she can tell Rachel's crying. She knows it, and it's bringing her close to tears herself. Fiercely she bites the inside of her cheeks, rebuking herself, because she knows she's being totally ridiculous. She doesn't like Rachel, not like that. She can survive without sharing a bed with her and calling her on the phone and…

But she doesn't want to. She doesn't WANT to, and that's what scares her.

"Don't do this." Rachel whispered after a few minutes of total silence passed between the two of them. Her voice was pleading and almost desperate because she knew she couldn't sleep without Santana anymore and that scared her. All of it did but she knew that trying to exist without Santana there would be incredible difficulty and she couldn't go on like normal or go back to Finn, who didn't seem to be able to say anything to her now.

"Please? I don't know what's going on but I can't.. the thought of.. being without you.. it's.. it's terrifying." She felt weak saying it but it was the truth, she couldn't do it alone.

It's terrifying for Santana too. It has her nearly in tears just thinking about it, but that isn't normal. It can't be normal, can it? It has to be more than just what they went through together…isn't that pretty freaking gay?

It's the first time she's let herself think the word, and immediately fear rises up to choke her throat at the thought. She shakes her head, more to herself than Rachel, and barely manages her next words.

"I'm not like that. I'm not. I'm not DOING that."

"You don't have to, I won't make you do anything," Rachel said in a broken whisper.

She wasn't sure what it was but she felt so broken and lost in that moment, like she lost who she was in a short amount of time. It was terrifying...she just wanted to sleep. Without thinking about it she laid down on the bed under the covers and held the other side open for Santana.

"Just rest for now."

She shouldn't stay. She should run like hell, if she at all wants to preserve who she thinks she should be. She should never come into this house again, let alone this bed. But Santana doesn't want to. She doesn't want to slip back through that window and drive back alone and get into her own bed. The thought is terrible, so she slowly slips beneath the covers and curls into a ball, faced away from Rachel, and tries to tell herself it means nothing at all.

The moment Santana was in bed with her, Rachel laid the blankets over her and curled up in the opposite direction. She knew she couldn't hold Santana like she wanted to and it hurt, but she had to let her figure everything out while she tried to do the same. Closing her eyes, she forced herself to try and sleep.

It takes Santana forever to fall asleep. When she awakens she is curled into Rachel despite her efforts to avoid it. Exhaling, she starts to pull away, but then lies there. She is tired and Rachel is too warm to protest.

The next morning Rachel woke up with the warm familiar arms of Santana wrapped around her and she sighed contently. Turning her head a little she smiled when she saw Santana was awake too.

"Morning," she mumbled, even though she was only half awake.

Santana mumbles somewhat incoherently and closes her eyes again, not so much because she's tired, but because she wants to pretend she is. Being excessively tired would excuse the fact that she's kind of awake but hasn't pulled away yet. She lets her head rest against Rachel's, listening to her breathing, and finds herself kind of hoping Rachel will kiss her head, as she's done so often lately, or play with her hair.

Rachel absentmindedly begins to gently run her fingers through Santana's hair, not caring about what they should or shouldn't be doing. She just needed to be close to her and feel like she wasn't about to just be left there in her little puddle of confusion and not be able to make sense of anything.

Santana's limbs relax a little more, and she gives a soft, involuntary groan as Rachel pets her hair, burying her face against the girl's shoulder. For a few minutes she lets her stroke her, soaking up the comforting feel, and doesn't pull away. When she finally speaks her voice is still muffled, clearly confused.

"Rachel…it's not right. What we're doing. We're not…like that."

Rachel ended up kissing the top of Santana's head and sighing contently as she let herself relax for a bit. But when Santana spoke she automatically held her a little tighter.

"We don't have to be… and whoever says that kiss was wrong is just… their opinion doesn't matter. But we can forget it happened if that's what you want."

Santana is silent, not lifting her face. She feels her muscles tense up again and tries to relax them, swallowing. Ten thousand conflicting thoughts seem to be going through her head at once, and she can't decide which to follow or believe.

This feels wrong in her heart and her head….but so right in her body. How can that all be true at once? And how can she not know if she wants to forget, or lift her head and kiss Rachel again?

"Let's just not talk about it," She said finally. "Tired. No."

Texts ️ Puckleberry

Puck:hey, fellow hot jew. sup?

Rachel:Can I talk to you?

Puck:Yeah, ok. u alrite?

Rachel:So um.. I um.. I need you to look after Santana for me okay?

Puck:what? she ok?

Puck:whats wrong

Puck:u know i do that anyway, look out for her

Rachel:I think she's okay but um.. something happened the other night and I just need you to look after her. I'm going to go and see Finn for a bit..

Puck:huh what happened

Puck:doesnt sound alrite

Puck:do i need to go over cuz think her mom would be pissed

Puck:thought u werent w/ hudson?

Rachel:I swear to god if you tell anyone what I'm about to tell you you will never be able to get your balls on the outside of your body again. Am I clear?

Rachel:I'm not, I just need to talk to him.

Puck:dude, badass

Puck:ok swear

Puck:u ok?
Rachel:Not a dude but I am a badass.

Rachel:I um.. Santana and I kissed and she freaked out and we agreed not to talk about it and I'm just.. I don't know what I am.

Puck:hot

Puck:u think hudsons gonna help u figure that out?

Puck:how am i supposed to take care of her? have sex w/ her so she knows if she is or not? cuz no way is she, not after what we've done
Rachel:Shut up.

Rachel:He can help me forget and I promised I'd go see Carole today anyway.

Rachel:I don't know, Noah. Just figure something out and don't say a word of this to her. She just.. don't tell me about your sex life with her..

Puck:ok well...ok

88
Puck wasn't too sure what it was that Rachel wanted him to do for Santana. He knew the girl was struggling; hell, he could see it for himself, could feel it in her body every time he tried to touch her, even if she never said a word to describe what she was thinking or feeling. He was hardly an observant or sensitive guy in general, or at least, not without some effort on his part, but it would take a blind man not to see how Santana's eyes had grown grim and dark most of the time, to feel how tense her muscles were almost every time he touched her even in a platonic manner. The fact that she now was attached at the hip to Rachel Berry instead of Brittany Pierce was a mind trip in and of itself, and it spoke volumes about how messed up she must be in the head.

Not that Puck had anything against Rachel. She had been kind of annoying, freshman and sophomore year, but they were juniors and he'd kinda got used to her, in Glee. And she was hotter than he'd thought at first. It was hard to make out with a girl a few times and not sort of develop a soft spot for her. Rachel had become one of his girls, somehow, and Puck would protect, defend, and look out for her, just like he would Quinn or Brittany or Santana.

Santana. Puck wasn't sure how or when it had happened, considering the original nature of their relationship, if it could even be called that…but somehow, she had got to him. Maybe it was because he'd had sex with her more often than the other girls he'd slept with, maybe because she was sort of similar to him in ways that could spark fights, but could also spark his appreciation for her wit and sarcasm and her sparky nature. Or maybe it was because now, after what she had been through, he was seeing a different side to her, a softer and needier side. It was strange, watching Santana admitting on a daily basis that she needed someone, that she was upset or scared, watching her reach out for people other than Brittany. It was kind of upsetting to see, because Puck didn't know what to do to make her feel better or safer, other than to try to physically be there. He could do that, make sure that she was physically okay, but how could he help her or Rachel feel safe from their memories?

Every day, Puck lived with a gnawing sense of guilt, an ever present conviction that he had somehow cheated fate. Things would be different, things would be right, he was sure, if it had been him in detention, like usual, that day, instead of Santana and Rachel. That just wasn't how it should have been. The only reason he hadn't been in detention was he had skipped half the days at school that week. Santana and Rachel, as far as he knew, had never been in detention in their lives. If they had been nowhere near the school, like they should have been, and he had been there instead, he could have stopped Tyler. He could have saved everyone, probably, or at least most of them. And Santana and Rachel never would have had to go through that at all. Somehow he felt like he had done them a wrong by not being there, and although he couldn't tell them that, he didn't couldn't help but feel it was true.

This gave him even more motivation to look out for them, to make sure that they were as okay as they could be, considering. If that meant walking them to class and sitting with them as much as he could, making sure that some of the idiots in school shut their mouths and left them alone, he'd do it without a second thought.

Especially for Santana. Because whether or not he understood it, Puck knew that the casual feelings of affection and lust he had had towards her before were becoming more complicated, deeper, and whether or not Santana returned them, he knew he was going to do right by her, the best he knew to.

He couldn't say he was totally shocked by Rachel's text, about Santana kissing her. Girls could only hang on each other like they had been so many times before it would turn into something else, was his opinion, and he was totally not against that. In fact, if they wanted to get up on each other in front of him, or possibly invite him to join, he could get on board with that, all the way. It's not like he hadn't seen Santana macking on Brittany at parties, when she was plastered out of her skull.

And Rachel was totally the type to blow things out of proportion. One kiss and Miss Melodrama probably thought she was halfway to being Ellen Degeneres or something. But if she wanted him to look after Santana, he could do that, no problem. He'd give her whatever she needed, if she'd let him.

The problem was, Santana didn't respond to his texts, or to his calls. Eventually Puck decided to just say to hell with it, and go to see her himself. He knew he couldn't ring the doorbell- if her abuela was over, or if her mami was in a mood, he'd get chewed out for even thinking he could go up to her bedroom alone with her, although it was way too late to preserve her chastity, if that was the goal. Instead he just came around the side of the house to her window, after parking a block down on the street, and knocked on the window gently, not wanting to scare her with the noise.

"San? It's me."

He heard her gasp loudly in response all the same, so he hastily lifted up the window and stuck his head inside, shushing her.

"San, it's all right, it's just me. Sorry. Can I come in?"

He waited for her small nod before pulling himself up, approaching her slowly and sitting on the edge of her bed. Santana was lying on her stomach, her head lifted up now as she blinked at him, and he could tell from the redness in her eyes that she had been crying recently and fairly hard. Puck's heart clinched uneasily, and he reached to ruffle her hair gently, then cupped her face with his hand.

"How's it going, Lopez?"

He watched her throat work as she swallowed, her eyes shift to the side, and her shoulders rose and fell before she pushed herself up to a sitting position. He saw the shift in her eyes and knew even before she spoke that some decision had just been made, even before she slowly straddled his lap, her arms locking around his neck.

"You're exactly what I've been hoping was gonna come walking through my door," she purred, but even as she spoke, Puck saw the strain in her eyes, heard the slight waver to her voice. "Hope you can be quiet, stud, 'cause I'm gonna wear you out all night long."

She almost attacked his mouth with hers then, hard, aggressive, almost as if she were trying to win a battle rather than to show mutual affection or passion. Puck kissed her back at first, but when Santana pushed her body into his, her nails scraping down his back, he was stricken by how cold her skin was, by how hard and fast he could feel her heart beating in her chest. And then he noticed she was shaking, even as she kissed him, that even when he wrapped his arms around her as support, he couldn't get her to warm up…it seemed that she was on the verge of tears.

Stricken, Puck tried to pull back from her, wanting to look her in the face. When Santana tightened her arms around him, trying to force him to continue, he gently held her back, his brow furrowing as he looked her in the face.

"'Tana. What are you doing?"

"What does it look like, I'm trying to get you off," she spat back, but there was still that shaking in her voice, the frequent shivering of her muscles beneath his hands. No, not shivers at all, but shaking…as though she were trying desperately to hold back a greater emotion, just beneath surface. "What, you don't want it? What's the matter, Puck, you don't like me anymore, you don't like sex? You're not gay, are you?"

But her voice cracks on the word gay, and tears fill her eyes. Without Puck understanding it at all, she is sobbing, her head bowing, shoulders slumping beneath his hands.

It is with complete confusion that Puck wraps his arms back around her, pulling her into his chest and holding her loosely yet protectively as Santana wept, her forehead pressed into his shoulder. He didn't try to say anything, completely certain that whatever he did say, it would be wrong.

What the hell was really up with her and Rachel? And how was he supposed to look out for her when he had not the faintest clue what she needed?