A/N: Sorry this took so long and sorry it's so short. This weekend has been kinda hectic and I also got distracted drawing again. This chapter was suppose to include glee club too, but I guess that'll have to wait for the next chapter. Sorry. Enjoy!

"Are you sure you're well enough to operate your vehicle," Rachel asked nervously, hesitating at the passenger side of my car.

I looked at her over the top of the car and shrugged, "You can't drive stick and your car's broken, if you want to get to school we don't have many other options."

She seemed to mull it over, staring down into the car with a conflicted expression, but making no movement to open the door and get in, "I'm still not entirely certain you should be going to school today."

"It's just a broken arm and it feels fine," I pushed, "Besides, I need school to make me smart and you only need one hand to drive."

"I believe you need two in order to drive standard," she replied matter-of-factly, causing me to sigh as I opened my driver side door.

"Alright," I nodded, "I'll drive myself to school and you can walk then."

She gave me a Rachel Berry glare, but I just smirked as she rolled her eyes and flopped down into the passenger seat.

"Honestly, Rach," I laughed once the car was started and I was shifting into reverse, "I feel fine, there's nothing to worry about."

"I just don't feel like this is taking it easy," she said and she had this stubborn look on her face as she folded her arms across her chest.

"You wish we were back in bed, don't you," I joked and chuckled when her head snapped towards me with pink cheeks.

She didn't respond, but turned thoughtful as her attention was drawn to the houses flying by outside her window. It bothered me a little that she wasn't speaking her mind, I was so used to her doing that in the past and not holding back for anything. Now, more often than not, I found myself wondering what was going on in her head and wishing that the open book that she once was, was back.

"What are you thinking," I asked, unable to bear the serious face that was staring out her window, no longer.

Her eyes dropped to the hands in her lap for a moment before glancing back out the window, "I just think you should've stayed in bed today."

I glanced over at her a couple times, switching between the road in front of me and her, until I finally said, "That's not what you were thinking."

"No," she replied, her eyes dropping back to her lap, "That wasn't what I was thinking."

"Tell me," I prodded, slipping my hand into hers while I didn't need it to shift and keeping one of my fingers on my injured arm curled around the steering wheel to hold it steady.

"I think I'm still a little in shock that you saved my life," she said, her eyes fixed outside the window again, "These whole past two weeks seem so... surreal. I don't think I've ever been so sure and confused about something all at the same time."

"You mean me," I said, my hand disappearing from hers to downshift as we came up to a red light.

There was a long pause and then I heard her take a deep breath, "Yes. Two weeks ago I was resigned to spend my senior year like all the rest of my high school years, at the bottom of the social food chain."

"Two weeks ago I was sure that I'd be repeating high school until I was twenty-five and they forcibly refused me from enrolling," I shrugged, "Life changes."

"I know, but the future is," she paused again, obvious that it was not a subject she wanted to talk about, so she shook her head, "Can we please talk about something else?"

"Sure," I nodded, disappointed but also aware that it wasn't the right setting to have important conversations like that, not when school was ten minutes away and I couldn't give her my full attention.

The car was silent for a while and I'll have to admit it wasn't the easiest thing driving with my bulky cast on. On top of that I had to fight to keep the pain hidden every time I twisted my arm to turn the steering wheel around a corner, because I was sure that if Rachel even noticed me wincing, she would force me to pull over and call AAA or something. I could see her watching me out of the corner of her eye, she was trying not to call attention to it and pretending she wasn't, but Rachel was anything but sneaky, especially when she was trying to be. So every time an extra bad pain shot through my arm, I clenched my jaw a little harder and prayed she didn't notice, and also that my teeth didn't break.

"You're going to have to teach me how to drive your car," she said softly, when we were just about a block away from the school.

"Trust you with my baby," I teased, "I don't know, you somehow managed to hit a dirt bike while you were parked."

I felt a hard punch to my right shoulder and was glad that my injured arm wasn't the one nearest to her. I was pretty sure that she would've hit it anyway, forgetting it was broken.

"Sorry," she said when I winced, "But you deserved that."

I got this sort of lump in the pit of my stomach as I pulled into the parking lot at McKinley, and it wasn't because I had to squeeze my luxury car into the only parking spot left available, risking its pristine paint job. I couldn't really explain it, but it was this sort of nauseous feeling when you know something bad was going to happen. Something about this day just didn't feel right and after the horrible day I had yesterday, I didn't know how much I could handle.

I went to grab my school bag from the backseat, but Rachel grabbed it before I could, "You need to take it easy, Brittany, you can't possibly think I'm going to let you strain yourself under the weight of your school bag."

I half smirked as she braced herself to pick up the bag, while already having her own strapped to her back, and I could tell she was expecting it to be just as heavy as hers. When she pulled the bag up and it was much lighter than she expected, she shot me a confused expression, "Do you even have anything in here?"

"My duck pencil sharpener and rainbow sticker album," I replied, straight faced and right back into 'Stupid Brittany' character. "What else would I need?"

I saw her try to hide her smile and so I took a couple steps towards her, pressing her up against the side of my car, "What?"

"Sometimes," she said, "Only on rare occasions, when I'm not worried about how you've risked your future, your alter ego is a little adorable."

"Alter ego," I repeated, furrowing my brow and looking up towards the sky in confusion, "Is that like a table where you pray to waffles?"

"Brittany," Rachel said sternly, guiding my arms to wrap around her lower body and I locked my fingers at the small of her back.

"Yes, Rachel," I replied, cheekily.

She let in a slow deep breath through her nose and closed her eyes as she blew it out through her mouth, "Shut up and kiss me."

The corners of my mouth twitched as she leaned in towards me and when she was breath away from my lips I whispered, "I think I need an adult."

"Oh my god, Britt-Britt," Santana gasped, holding my broken arm tenderly in her hands as she took the empty seat next to me in class. I didn't have a class with Rachel until Spanish last period and I was expecting the seat next to me to stay empty with Santana still angry with me. I was shocked that she even noticed my injury while trying to ignore me and shoot angry glares at the same time. "What happened?"

That was a loaded question. Definitely not one that was going to go over well with Santana, and as much as I liked Rachel, it was like Santana's sudden concern was an in to get my best friend back. So I sucked in a breath and tried to push the guilt away as I left out the most important part of my story, Rachel, "Motocross practice. Derrick hit me with his bike."

"Excuse me while I put rat poison in his water bottle," Santana growled, her eyes narrowing towards the front of the class. Derrick was a freshman so we didn't have any classes with him, luckily, because I wasn't a hundred percent sure she was exaggerating about the rat poison. As much as I hated the kid right now, I still didn't want him dead.

"It's okay, San," I said soothingly, she looked like her blood was boiling and when I lightly put my hand on her arm to try to calm her down, she looked down at it with sad eyes, as if remembering that we had been fighting.

"I miss you, Britt," she said so quietly I almost didn't hear her, and her dark eyes gave me a side-long glance as they began to redden.

The words went straight to my heart and tore it out. I thought I was over her, but I was kidding myself. This was the Santana I loved, the one that only I saw in her most vulnerable moments. The one who would spend an hour massaging my neck after a cheerleading competition because she knew how sore my muscles got and how much it relaxed me. The same girl who would grab my face in both hands just before she came, look straight into my eyes and say, "No matter what I say, I will always love you more than anyone else in the world."

I opened my mouth to tell her how much I missed her too, how much I wanted her wrapped in my arms again, but before I could, the teacher walked into the room, calling all of our attention to the front of the class. It was for the best, because it snapped me out of the trance she had put me under, reminding me that I was with Rachel now and how much I liked being with Rachel. There was no heartache with her, except the good kind, and maybe it was because it was still too new that we didn't have a chance to get to the pain yet, but it didn't matter, because there was something that I had with Rachel that I never had with Santana. The freedom to be myself and acceptance.

When class ended she acted like we had never been fighting in the first place and I hadn't broken her heart because of Rachel. It was like she had gotten a sudden case of amnesia, walking through the halls with me, her ponytail swishing from side to side as she linked pinkies with me, just like nothing had happened. It was strange and I should've questioned it, but the feeling of being friends with her again distracted me, and I was too busy being content to realize it could be a problem.

We parted ways just before Spanish class and about five seconds before Rachel came bouncing down the hall towards me. She bounced up onto her toes as she pressed a quick kiss to my lips and said, "How's your school day going?"

"It's been alright," I nodded, pushing Santana from my thoughts, "How's yours?"

"Quite dull," she sighed and then brightened instantly as she grabbed my hand, swinging it gently from side to side, "Much better now."

I smiled back, giving her another closed lip kiss and lingering a little longer than the last. She had put lip gloss on since I last saw her, it tasted like vanilla and something even sweeter that was distinctly Rachel.

"Is that a new lip gloss," I asked, licking the remnants off my lips.

She reached into the waistband of her skirt and pulled out the stick of Lip Smacker liquid vanilla gloss, holding it at my eye level with a reluctant smile, "You liked the vanilla right?"

"Yes," I nodded, hooking my finger in the front of her blouse and tugging her towards me to taste her lips again.

"Hey Lesbos, keep your disgusting PDA outside of my line of vision," a Cheerio snarled, shoving Rachel into me with her shoulder as she walked by, laughing with a couple other girls. They were freshman, the baby unholy trinity who would take our place at the top of the pyramid next year, after we graduated. They were already fashioned into their roles, berating anyone who wasn't their kind, and able to create the most hurtful nicknames on a whim. We had trained them well.

Rachel gave them a quick glare before turning back to me with her bright smile as if nothing had happened. It was sickening, the fact that she was so used to it, it didn't even phase her anymore.

"So," she started, but I cut her off before she could get any further.

"No," I said, gently pushing her to the side and storming after the freshmen Cheerios.

"Excuse me," I said, tapping the blond on the shoulder, I think her name was Kristen, and judging by her black eyes, she was the Cheerio at the country club dinner I punched in the face, "Do you know who I am?"

"Brittany Pierce," she said, folding her arms across her chest and giving me a look that said she couldn't care less.

"That's right," I nodded, "Brittany Pierce, senior Cheerio and the girl that punched you in the face and I don't really feel bad about doing it again. So I think you'd better apologize to my girlfriend, unless you'd like a broken jaw to go with that nose."

I wasn't sure where the words were coming from, I was almost sure that I wouldn't ever hit her again, or anyone for that matter, but I was sick of watching Rachel take crap from everyone and there was no way I would ever let anyone push me around like that. I felt Rachel's hand take hold of two of my fingers poking out of my cast, gently nudging me backwards, but I ignored it. She was going to get her apology, one way or another.

The girl had the nerve to scoff at my threat and while her two friends nervously took a step back, I grabbed hold of the front of her Cheerios uniform, balling the tight material in my fist and yanked her downwards, until she was at face level with Rachel.

"Apologize," I commanded, my fist tightening even more in her shirt. I could see Rachel's anxious expression, her mouth open slightly as she watched in almost horror at what was happening. I guess she didn't expect me to ever act like this, of course I never expected me to act like this either.

"I'm sorry," Kristen mumbled, her eyes rolling away from Rachel and refusing to look at her. That wasn't good enough.

I let go of her shirt, instantly grasping her blond ponytail instead, wrapping the hair once around my fist for a tighter hold and yanked her head back, "Say it like you mean it."

"Ok, ok," she shrieked, her hands trying to reach back to pry my fingers off her hair and I pushed her back down to Rachel's level, "I'm sorry, I'm really really sorry."

"Apology accepted," Rachel muttered, still in shock.

I let go of the girl's hair, but spun her around to face me, gripping her shoulders as I glared angrily into her eyes.

"Now, one last extremely important question, and you better think hard about your answer," I said through grit teeth, enunciating every word so there was no doubt in her mind what I was asking, "Do you have any rainbow stickers to trade, preferably ones either with unicorns or lots of sparkles, scratch and sniff would also be alright?"

She stared back at me blankly, trying to decide if my words had a hidden meaning, "No. I-I don't have any stickers."

I felt Rachel's smirk press against my bare shoulder, obviously her surprise had worn off at my last comment and I nodded towards Kristen with a sigh, "Okay, but if I find out you're hoarding rainbow stickers from me, we're going to have another talk."

I watched Kristen and her friends scamper down the hallway like scared mice, and Rachel hooked her arm around my elbow, just above my cast.

"My hero," she said, "Again."