"Apologize."

Rachel had showed up early to school on Monday to talk to her Math teacher about missing a quiz for Cheerios duties. When she'd exited the classroom she'd almost run smack dab into Santana, who was standing with her hands on her hips. Brittany stood beside her girlfriend, watching Rachel expectantly.

"Santana?"

"Apologize."

"I'm not sure what I would be apologizing for."

Santana scoffed loudly and shook her head. "For lying to us!"

Rachel swallowed. "Oh."

" 'Oh'? That's all you can say, 'oh'?!"

"It isn't very fair to lie to us, Rach," Brittany said matter-of-factly. She didn't seem angry like Santana, but she wasn't arguing against Santana's anger, either. Brittany often called her girlfriend out when she was being unfair, but she was also supportive of Santana's feelings and her right to them. Santana had every right to be mad about Rachel lying to them.

"…I know. I apologize, Santana. To you, too, Britt."

Brittany nodded acknowledgement but it was clear Santana was just getting started. "So you admit it! You lied to us! I knew it, Quinn told you something at the sleepover, didn't she? And you're not telling us even though we're in this together, we agreed to help Quinn together. So what is it, what did she tell you?"

"Santana, I promised not to tell you."

Santana's jaw dropped. Rachel had done it, she'd admitted that Quinn had told Rachel a secret. Something big enough to contact Sue about, but clearly not enough of a something for Sue, judging by the length of the meeting the two of them had. "You can't tell us?!" Santana exclaimed, eyes ablaze. "Rachel, we're supposed to be a fucking team in this! She's my friend, she was my friend way before we even knew you. I have a right to know!"

Rachel stood up straighter and looked Santana dead in the eyes. "Excuse me, Santana? You do not have a right to any information that Quinn hasn't shared with you. We are helping Quinn together. But just because she told me and didn't tell you doesn't mean you can be jealous and bail on the mission."

"Jealous? How dare-"

"Yes! Jealous! I understand, I do. You're just getting her back, you want her back so badly. You want her to be able to trust you. I'd be hurt, too. But please, Santana, this is important. You can't let your jealousy stop you from helping Quinn."

"I'm not stopping- I haven't-"

"Then why didn't you talk to her last week?"

Santana's tan cheeks tinted with a blushed and she looked down. Rachel sighed and took a step toward her. "It's okay. I know this is all hard for you."

"Quinn didn't talk to us for so long," Brittany said mournfully. "I guess we're still getting used to everything again."

"…I suck," Santana grumbled. "But I'm still mad at you for lying. Not cool, R."

"Should I have told you Quinn told me something I couldn't tell you?" Rachel wondered. "Wouldn't you have reacted badly?"

"Yeah, but Rachel, lying is bad for friendship," Brittany said. "We would have been sad but we'd have gotten over it quicker and last week wouldn't have gone so wrong."

Rachel hung her head. "I am sorry. I didn't know it would go so wrong."

"Don't lie to us, mija. It freaked me out."

Rachel nodded. She and Santana smiled a little one another and then stepping in for a hug. Rachel felt at ease for the first time in a week.

"Last week can kiss my ass," Santana said, voicing what they all felt. Rachel nodded vigorously, laughing at the colorful way of putting it.

Brittany grabbed her girlfriend and her best friend and squeezed, causing both girls to laugh. "Let's never do that ever ever again."

"Agreed," Rachel said.

When they finally disentangled Santana put a hand to her forehead and groaned. "Do I gotta apologize to Quinn now?"

"I think that would be a good start."

Santana groaned again, louder and more dramatically. "I can't believe I have to apologize to Fabray. She's never even apologized for the crap she pulled on me and Britt!"

"…was it bad?"

Rachel and Santana turned to Brittany, whose jovial attitude had faded. She shifted from foot to foot and looked at Rachel anxiously.

"What, Britt?"

"Was it bad? What Quinn told you? You don't have to tell us what it was. But was it bad?" Brittany's eyes shined brightly and her lip trembled. "You wanted to tell Coach and you'd only tell Coach if…"

Rachel bit her lip, looking from Santana to Brittany. She couldn't tell them, she couldn't betray Quinn's trust. But… "It was… pretty bad. It could mean worse…"

Brittany let out a sob and Santana swore, her whole body taut with anger. "That fucker, that motherfucker," she growled. Rachel knew Santana meant Russell Fabray.

"We're working on helping her. We'll figure it out, I know we will," Rachel said. "We'll fix what's broken."

"Quinn is broken…" Brittany said.

Rachel flinched at this. Why did Brittany have to say such hard things? She was too perceptive, too real in a way that no one else was. It made people face things that they didn't necessarily want to.

"We'll fix it," Rachel repeated.

Brittany nodded sadly and Santana ground her teeth.

.

"Fabray! Yo, Q!"

Quinn turned to see Santana running down the hallway. She was surprised to note that Brittany wasn't with her. Quinn had skipped Spanish to avoid the silence of the three girls who Quinn had stupidly let herself think of as friends. Rachel was still talking to her of course, but S & B hadn't said a word to her in a week. She had no idea what Santana could want with her now. To yell at her for ruining the sleepover? For insinuating herself into a friendship she had no right to? Quinn crossed her arms in front of herself and looked down at the ground, closing herself off. She didn't want Santana to tell her these things. She already knew. They already gnawed at her day in, day out.

Santana caught up to Quinn and almost instantly looked uncomfortable.

"Just get it over with, Santana," Quinn said. "I don't want to drag this out."

Santana's awkward expression shifted to anger and she snapped, "What the fuck, Fabray, I'm coming over to apologize and that's how you greet me? Ungrateful shit-"

"Wait, wait. Apologize?" Quinn's head snapped back up. "What are you talking about?"

"What are you talking about?" Santana demanded. "What the fuck did you want me to "get over with" if not for my apology?"

Quinn blushed and turned away so she wasn't facing Santana head on. "Oh. Um… Telling me to fuck off."

Santana's anger melted away. "What?"

"Telling me to fuck off. You know. Go away, leave us alone, stop talking to me and Britt and Rachel."

"That's what you do, not me," Santana said defensively. Then she looked down. "But sorry. I didn't want to make you think that. Last week was dumb, but I was fighting with Rachel and stopped talking to you because I was frustrated with her."

"Was it about me?"

"Was what about you?"

"The fight."

Santana opened her mouth to reply but she shut it again. That was all the answer that Quinn needed. She schooled her face to try to keep her emotions from showing, but Santana knew her too well to be fooled.

"Dammit Quinn, it isn't like that. It's not that I don't want you around. You're fucking frustrating, bitchy, closed off, but you're my fucking friend, too. Not always convenient for me, but I'm stubborn. But you can't expect this to go easy."

"I don't."

"Good. It hurts, Q. It fucking hurts, when I don't know whether you'll be around tomorrow, when I fucking worry and stress and I can't do anything because I don't know-" Santana stopped talking abruptly, sighing. "I just don't know, do I? I don't know anything."

Sometimes Santana's persona was so successfully played that even those that knew her best forgot she was able to feel things like fear. Quinn was suddenly, painfully, reminded. Santana was afraid. Afraid of letting Quinn so close again when Quinn could just leave on her, when Quinn was as unreachable and mysterious as she'd ever been.

"I'm sorry, Santana."

"Yeah, well…"

"No. Santana. I-I'm sorry for what I did to you and Britt. I'm sorry I cut ties with no warning and no explanation. I'm sorry I hurt you and Britt so deeply. I-" Quinn tried to figure out how to say what she needed to next, and she reached up to her neck to fiddle with a cross that wasn't there. Santana's eyes were huge, her jaw slack. "… I did what I did out of-" The word "love" stuck, so she moved passed it. "But I wish I could have somehow… explained." Without the risk of questions, of worry, of prying eyes. "It wasn't what I wanted. And don't ask me to explain. I can't and I won't. But I regret the way it hurt you more than I can ever express."

Santana's eyes shimmered and she clamped her mouth shut at the second half of Quinn's apology. She was glaring, but it was a Santana hurt glare, the kind she used when she was trying not to cry. Quinn waited, unsure of how Santana would reply. There was a good chance for yelling. There was a chance of Santana walking away. And there was a chance… a chance that Santana's anger and hurt would be quiet, something they could have a conversation in.

"That's way fucked up, Quinn," Santana finally said.

Quinn didn't deny it.

"I don't get you. You act like no one can make you do or say anything you don't want to. But that's not true at all, is it?"

Quinn felt mortified. Santana didn't even know how right she was.

"…I used to admire that about you. How untouchable you seemed." Santana couldn't keep her eyes on Quinn's and Quinn felt such shame, such disgust in herself for being the biggest lie in the world. "… but you're human, aren't you?" Santana met Quinn's eyes just briefly before looking away again. "I have to adjust to that. And, I mean… I think in a way, you being human… it helps. It isn't, like, a disappointment, so don't take it that way."

Quinn didn't know how to reply to something like that. Her being a human helped? All the mess that implied, all the flaws and mistakes?

Quinn saw herself as barely human, but on the other end of the spectrum that Santana had always seen her. Monster, demon even. Not untouchable goddess.

Landing on the human portion of that scale… it was more than Quinn could ask for.

"I said what I came to say. All the rest is just stuff," Santana said with a shrug. "I'll see you around this week, and you're coming to mine on Friday to get ready for the dance. Text me if you wanna." Santana gave Quinn a hesitant smile, and she was off.

Quinn had no idea what to make of any of it.

She headed toward the bleachers.

.

"I knew you'd be here, it's my sixth sense!"

Quinn looked up from her book to see Brittany beaming at her as she finished walking up and plopped down on the couch beside Quinn.

"Santana told me what you said, and I'm so so so glad you said sorry about freshman year and all the sadness. I already knew you were sorry but sometimes Santana needs to hear things even if she already knows them."

"… you knew I was sorry?"

"Double duh, Q," Brittany said with a roll of her eyes. "You've been sorry since you did it."

"So you don't want me to apologize to you, too?"

"Oh, it'd be nice. I don't need it like Santana did. But it'd be nice."

"…I'm sorry, Britt."

"Can I hug you?"

Quinn nodded and Brittany grabbed Quinn into a tight hug. "Yeah, that was nice."

Quinn chuckled as Brittany squeezed the air out of her lungs. It took Britt a while to let go.

"So how'd shopping go? I'm sorry we couldn't come with you. Kurt is an okay substitute, but he's no us."

"Kurt was fine," Quinn said. "Pushy. But he found me a dress."

"I can't wait to see. Mine is green!"

"Mine's black and white."

"Black and white? Huh. Well, you can pull off anything so I bet it'll look good on you. I always picture you in light colors, to be honest."

"White is a light color."

"Oh, you know what I mean. Black and white is an old movie."

"It's a pretty dress."

"Even if it weren't, you're always pretty, too."

Quinn looked away, a tight smile on her lips. "So I'm told."

"Oh, I'm sorry Q. I forgot you hate that."

"It's fine, B."

"Getting ready at Santana's will be the best. You'll see."

As always, thank you for your continued patience.