Rachel's morning was off to an exceedingly pleasant start. Not only had she woken up in her bed of all places, which was arguably the comfiest sleep-inducing object in existence from how rested she felt, but she also was in her room. She'd almost teared up at the sight of her Broadway show posters on her walls, the elliptical in the corner of her room, and her large stack of sheet music she'd planned on organizing that summer in preparation for the next school year. It was such a beautiful relieving sight, and though there were some aspects of waking in the forest that she doubtlessly missed terribly, Rachel really was happy to be home again.

Ultimately, her body felt wonderful, at least in comparison to how it had felt days past. In a way, her weekend escapade with Santana had almost felt like a dream; heck, she would have believed it if not for the small, mostly healed wound on her head that reminded her of her journey. Rachel couldn't help but smile, recalling that she'd been so terrified of the former cheerleader that she had assumed Santana would kill her with her knife. It still amazed her that the truth was so far from what she'd expected.

It meant so much to her that Santana had been there for her whenever she needed her; Rachel had barely woken from her nightmare before realizing she'd called Santana's number, desperately needing to hear the girl's voice. Her evening had been mostly filled with father-daughter comfort activities, such as baking cookies and watching talent shows, but rarely were her thoughts far from Santana. Between the emotional ride home, the movie night she'd had to miss, and the kiss she'd given her friend, there was just a lot to reflect on.

She loved her dad Hiram to death, but if she were honest, she would have preferred to be on the girl's bed, watching movies with the other girls; not only was it an activity she'd rarely been able to participate in throughout high school, but she just kind of wanted to snuggle with her new friend, and perhaps work toward winning over the two blondes. Ever since kissing the girl's cheek, she'd been flooded with thoughts of Santana. A few of which honestly troubled her hypothesis on the friendship crush she had on the cheerleader. It wasn't as if she was uncomfortable about any of it, it's just that she'd never been attracted in such a way to other women before that weekend. And to that, Rachel was pretty sure whatever attraction she did harbor was simply hero worship, which would assuredly fade.

Though, is it still hero worship when barely any of my thoughts or daydreams involve her saving me or being heroic? She wondered, as she slipped out of bed, bypassing her elliptical as her father had ordered her the previous night. Rachel knew, however, that if her daddy had been present, he'd have vetoed the order for her. It was one thing that she was excited for that morning, as she hadn't seen her daddy yet since she got in, having missed him by a half hour; LeRoy was unfortunately called into work to perform some surgery the previous day. They'd had a short phone conversation on his break, but she wanted to actually see him and have him give her one of his big bear-hugs.

In a way, as she descended the stairs, it felt like just an average, every-day morning; all the familiar scents and sounds were there. The only thing missing was the dull burn of her muscles after her routine workout, seeing as she'd been made to skip it. Sure, she knew it was a big thing, being back home after such a wild weekend, but somewhere along the line, she'd stopped doubting Santana's assertions that they'd get home. She'd accepted that she'd be back eventually, and that ended up helping it seem kind of just like any other day for her, even if it certainly wasn't for her parents.

Which became clear as soon as she took the last step off the stairs, surprisingly finding herself pulled into one of her daddy's hugs, the man spinning her around as he clutched her tightly. "Oh my sweet baby girl." He choked out, clearly emotional. Rachel was pretty sure that out of both of her fathers, her personality tended to be much more influenced by LeRoy than Hiram. Both tended to be a bit overbearing, hyperactive, creative and wildly dramatic at the best of times. "You're never, ever going camping again." LeRoy continued, pulling away slightly, his worried expression making her feel a little guilty. Not only had she wrecked the car, but she may have added an extra wrinkle or two to his face, which meant that her daddy would be fussing over face cream and other skincare products for the next month.

"I'm fine, Daddy. I was fortunately stranded with someone who was both incredibly capable and attentive to my needs while out in the wild. And given that our improvised camping expedition was entirely unplanned, with most of the events strictly influenced by the fact that we were backpacking through the wilderness instead of on a safe camp site, I would say that we didn't go camping at all in any traditional sense." Rachel rambled, knowing that at least her daddy had the attention span to appreciate her words even when she was prattling on and on.

Rachel smiled as he gave her another loving squeeze before letting her go, placing her back down on her feet. "You've been quiet about all the details of what happened out there. All I've been able to drag out of Hiram is that you were briefly hospitalized, while your glee friend had to stay overnight." He noted, leading her to the kitchen table, where breakfast was waiting for her. Rachel kind of wished it wasn't a shipment day at her dad's restaurant, knowing she'd have felt more comfortable with him around to keep a cap on her daddy's dramatics.

She sat down and happily popped a peach chunk into her mouth, feeling a little peckish still after her big adventure, despite the large dinner the day before, and the large brunch. "I knew you'd have today off, and I didn't want to make you worry when someone else's life was in your hands, daddy." She started, though immediately regretted her choice of words when his eyes grew wide as saucers. "I just know that you're a worrywart like I am, remember when I got a big papercut in fifth grade, and you kept me home the rest of the day for 'observation'?"

He wilted a bit at her good-natured challenge, clearly moving to compose himself after being called out like that. "Okay, so I worry. I'm your father, that's what I do best." He stated, looking a little embarrassed as he frowned concernedly at her. "Now, you were saying?"

"Yes, well…as I mentioned earlier, I had a very capable companion with me that I'm eternally grateful for. So when I lost control of the vehicle and crashed…where I received nearly all of my physical injuries from the trip, which were thankfully quite minor…I was given excellent first aid." She noted succinctly, ducking her head a little as she pointed to the healing wound at her hairline. After giving her daddy a few seconds to inspect it, she lifted her head and continued, spotting that she'd only have time to really give the short version of the story if she wanted to get to school as early as usual. "Santana patched me up and calmed me down. On our way…"

"Santana…as in Doctor Lopez' daughter? The one who'd been antagonizing you for a while now?" LeRoy asked, clearly confused and surprised. Rachel didn't blame him, as she tended to tell her fathers nearly everything, so they'd known her tumultuous history with the former cheerleader. She gave a short nod and a smile to let him know that it wasn't a bad thing that she'd been stuck with the girl. "Well…I suppose she would have been handy. Her dad used to always take her out into the woods for days at a time."

"She was admittedly much more competent than I was, and certainly more aware of the dangers that existed out there. We had a run in with some men late that night…Santana had to fight them off with her hatchet. Thankfully, neither of us were harmed." She stated, raising her hand as she saw her father about to blurt out something that probably had to do with Santana wielding her hatchet, or the fact that her safety had been threatened. Her father, much like her, was something of a pacifist, and tended to hated weaponry. "She only had one so that she could chop up wood for fires, but I'm thankful she had it. She didn't let anyone get close to me, Daddy, and she scared them off. At least, for a while."

LeRoy's eyebrows looked as if they were taking permanent residence at the top of her forehead, his eyes rife with anger and concern. "You're telling me you got attacked?! I…did you get their license plate? We need to find out who…" her father started ranting at a breakneck pace, and she knew if she didn't stop him, he'd probably keep going until he had some sort of aneurism. As per their tradition, she once again raised her hand, stopping his words in their tracks. The both of them knew that they could go off the rails in telling each other about their days, so they'd both agreed that the storyteller would always be able to control the discussion, if just to prevent conversational mayhem. Rachel was very thankful for that, even if LeRoy was still understandably fuming over her being attacked.

"It was too dark, and I was too scared. If you're worried about getting back at them, I'm certain that Santana sliced one of their Achilles tendons, so they didn't leave without facing some consequences. I'm certain that if need be, you could have the police call hospitals in that region to see if anyone was admitted with such an injury, whereupon either myself or Santana could identify them." She stated, which seemed to ease his tension slightly. "Their friends came around an hour or so later, and Santana helped us escape into the woods where we'd be safer. She'd spent days out in the wilderness before without food, water or shelter, so I knew I could trust her decisions to some degree."

That remark seemed to bring her daddy out of his rage a little bit, as his face contorted into confusion. "His father had never seemed to be that extreme about his camping trips…he never mentioned anything like that." LeRoy said thoughtfully, tapping his finger on the table as he always did when he was busy thinking.

"It was Sue Sylvester that did so, not her father. Anyway, most of the rest of the weekend was nice. She taught me a fair bit about how to survive in the wild, including how to use hatchets, which I've found to have a fair bit of utility. And whenever I got scared or worried or homesick, she'd help me and cheer me up. Without her, I probably would have panicked at some point and would be currently lost in the wilderness." Rachel explained, drawing a hesitant nod from her father, who only appeared more confused at her clarification.

"You mean to tell me that the girl who used to torment you turned over a new leaf? I'm sorry…I find it hard to believe." LeRoy stated apologetically, taking a bite of his French toast, washing it down with some orange juice. Rachel just continued to mill away at her own entirely delicious breakfast. "But I'm sure you have an explanation for that, knowing how intense you get about needing to understand things."

Rachel nodded furiously, popping another peach chunk in her mouth, relishing in its flavor. She'd missed fruit. "I was initially very wary. At first, after the wreck, I thought she was about to kill me when I saw the knife in the front seat with her. But…I can't say much, as I won't betray her trust…she seemed to decide that she wanted friends, and that I'd be a good person to start with." She stated with a wistful smile, recalling how sweet and open the girl had been with her throughout the trip. As unforgettable of an experience it had been due to the violence and how scary it had been, it was also equally unforgettable due to the bond they'd established. "She helped when I was scared of bears, when I was scared of thunderstorms…and she…"

LeRoy reached across the table and took hold of her hand, freeing her from the immediate rush of memories around the second attack. She was thankful for the affection, but it didn't clear her mind from the memory of Santana shaking on the ground, covered in blood. "Daddy, she fought a wolf for me. She made me escape first, and she killed it. It looked old, but it was really big and…it almost killed her. I was lucky to have been able to stop the bleeding and get her into town in time. I've never been so terrified." She whispered, sniffing back her tears as she remembered how long it had taken to get the bandaging right, to close the girl's wounds. Once again, she was broken from her short reverie by her father, who pulled her off the kitchen stool and into a fierce hug, one that she eagerly returned. Even though the ordeal was behind her, it was still so fresh in her mind. Every time she thought back to it, it was as if it was happening again right in front of her.

After a few minutes of silent comfort, her father stepped away, teary-eyed. "You…you're never allowed to go camping again. At least…not without that girl with you. And perhaps a number of highly trained ex-military bodyguards." He stated, his voice shaky with emotion. She just hugged him back harder, letting him know that she was okay. That she was home, and that while the idea of being accompanied by some highly trained bodyguards out in the forest was a bit off-putting, she'd endure it if it meant that she'd be able to have a calm, relaxing camping adventure with Santana in the future.

"Okay, Daddy. I promise." Rachel answered, deciding not to tell him that she would ask her dad to book her a few appointments with her therapist; it simply wasn't fair to call Santana at night, and she needed to ensure she'd get past that trauma. "Anyway, I'd best get ready for school. I'm sure that McKinley will be abuzz with rumours, and I want to make sure I'm prepared for any sort of attention that's directed at me." She finished, leaning up on her tippy-toes to plant a kiss on his cheek before she rushed back to her room, already four minutes later than she'd usually be at that time of the morning. And on top of that, she had some gifts to procure.

It would be a busy day indeed.

Santana walked into McKinley that morning with her head held high; sure, she was using crutches, which normally were a sign of vulnerability, but the rest of her attire dismissed that notion. Quinn had apparently done well the previous night, spreading word to the school's gossip hounds, because everyone in the halls stopped and stared at her in shock and awe. The fact that she'd washed her torn Cheerios' top that morning so she could wear it again was a nice touch, if she said so herself. The bloodstains hadn't come out at all, same for her shorts, which she also had washed and decided to wear that day. It made for a sight, she knew, and Santana figured it would go a long way to ensure that her badass title ascended to mythical levels. Even under the jacket she wore, the evidence of the wolf attack was visible. She supposed it didn't hurt that she'd tweeted pictures of both hatchets and the hunting knife, still all caked with blood and fur, including the caption 'did some hunting this wknd #fuckmichigan'. It all seemed enough to hopefully get the school buzzing.

Her only worry was that Rachel wouldn't be okay with it when she met up with her. Santana had called the girl that morning about her plans, and the diva had given her the green light, but she couldn't help but be worried after the previous night's episode. The last thing she wanted was to emotionally scar the girl any more than she already was, it was just that she really wanted to take advantage of the situation so that she could boost both of their reps. Santana knew that the school hierarchy operated mostly through cliques and fear, and she planned on using that. The Unholy Trinity hadn't really lost any cool points after leaving the Cheerios, mostly because they stood up to Sue and came out unscathed. Still, it didn't hurt having extra insurance, seeing as they were bringing another girl into the fold, one that had been at the bottom of the school's hierarchy for as long as she'd been aware.

She'd made similar calls to Quinn and Britt to make sure they knew what was happening, but both still looked just as shocked as everyone else when she approached their lockers. "Hey bitches." Santana called out with a wide, carefree smile. Sure, her meds didn't kill off all that much of the pain, but they did enough so that she wasn't in agony; that left her feeling good enough to just be happy about going through the final two or so weeks of school.

Britt was quick to hug her, but careful to avoid any trouble areas as best she could manage. Quinn just stood by Santana, her HBIC glare on full power; she was pretty confident that Quinn would be a crazy-protective mega-bitch all day, and it was kind of something she looked forward to seeing again. Hey, sometimes Vintage Ice-Queen Quinn Fabray was good for some fun. After all, it didn't hurt to have the school pissing itself around them all while she was a little incapacitated. It was a nice little measure of defense that she'd thank the blonde for later on.

They all grabbed their books for their next class and then moved onto their next destination, the crowd of students parting for them as they leisurely made their way to Rachel's locker, where the diva was worriedly looking over a large binder of notes. If there was one regrettable thing about school for Santana, it was that her badass reputation more or less ensured that she couldn't be public with her affection unless it was with Britt. And while that was okay and all, she kind of wanted to give Berry a hug and make sure she was okay.

"Hey Britt-Britt? Can you go give Rach a big hug for us? I'm pretty sure she could use one right now." She whispered to the tall blonde, who cheerfully skipped away from her and Quinn and wrapped an immediately surprised Rachel in a big hug, swinging the diva from side to side. It was a little amusing to see a wide-eyed Rachel with her feet off the ground, still clutching her binder as Brittany gave the brunette one of her more enthusiastic hugs. The blonde lowered Rachel back to the ground just as she and Quinn arrived at the locker, which seemed to give the diva some relief, though she seemed fairly content despite the surprise. "Hey, how'd your morning go, Rach?"

Rachel seemed to freeze up a little, before a shy smile spread across her lips. "It was quite wonderful, though I was banned from exercising until my daddy's able to look at all my injuries himself." Rachel noted with a bit of indignation, giving a little huff after she spoke.

"Hey, nothing wrong with easing back into your routines…I mean, you couldn't follow your morning routine last weekend, and it was alright then, right?" Santana asked, trying to play a little devil's advocate, though Berry seemed a little unimpressed with her statement, sending her a pointed look. "Hey, I'm sure you're totes able to do shit, but your dads are just shaken up. I'm sure you'll have your elliptical back tomorrow."

Rachel gave a thoughtful pout and nodded her head. "That is true. I've already composed a speech to my dad, telling him about the importance of exercise in maintaining a strong, healthy body. That the sooner I exercise, the sooner I'm back to my old shape, and the sooner they can put the ordeal behind them." The diva stated, and Santana could feel Quinn's eyes rolling from where she stood. "I've noticed that the rest of the school is paying particularly close attention to you…and Quinn, I fear for anyone who gets on your bad side today."

"It's nice to know I can still make people tremble." The blonde HBIC spoke with a frosty sort of cheer to her voice, Santana catching the girl's somewhat sadistic smile out of the corner of her eye. She knew Quinn wasn't actually crazy malicious or anything, and that she was simply a great actress in the roles she'd developed; Santana was just happy to have the blonde back by her side. It was pretty great.

"If I'm entirely honest, when you smile like that, Quinn, I get the instinctual response to find somewhere to hide. Don't sell yourself short." Rachel stated, and Santana couldn't help but laugh, knowing Quinn would take the compliment well. Because sure, she knew Quinn didn't usually take much pleasure in wielding her power, but she did take pride in how good she'd gotten at it. "Anyway, I must be off to class, so I hope you all have pleasant mornings." The diva continued, a bright smile spreading across her face, one that Santana just couldn't deny was hella alluring.

She decided that with all of her badassery and Quinntense protection, she could get away with stepping things up a little bit on the Rachel front, making a brief kissing gesture to the diva before heading off to her own classes. She almost looked back to see the brunette's response, but decided against it for two reasons; she didn't want to see any sign of rejection, and she wanted Berry to know that she wasn't the least bit worried showing her some Santana-grade affection at school.

Much of the rest of the day passed uneventfully, Santana figured. She had maintained the attention of her fellow students, Quinn had scared two jocks into leaving early due to bladder and groin issues after trying to slushie Santana and Rachel, Brittany had been hugging the three of them constantly, and Rachel had survived unscathed through the day. In fact, some had started parting the halls for her, even if it was just a little bit.

And Jacob Ben Israel had been stalking her all day long, only to constantly be rebuffed by her threatening to hit him with a crutch. Still, the kid gutted it out all day long, taking verbal abuse from both her and Quinn, physical threats by her and Quinn, and he'd apparently skipped his last class to wait outside the choir room for her. So when he approached her for the ninth time that day, she held up her hand to keep him from flapping his idiotic little mouth. She'd left her last class early to take her meds, and seeing as she'd already handed in the final assignment for it, Santana didn't think it'd be a big deal to skip the rest.

"Jewfro, you're relentless, and you're like a tick that's just making me feel ill, so get to the point and don't waste my time. You have five minutes." She stated firmly, leaning up against some lockers by the choir room doors, sending him a scathing glare that had the creepy boy visibly on edge.

"My source reports that you and my future wife, Rachel Berry, were trapped out in the Michigan wilderness all weekend, is that true?" the boy stammered out quickly, shrinking back as she leaned forward slightly with her fists clenched at her side.

She let a moment or two pass, just to let the fear sink in, before answering. "I'mma be nice and ignore what you said about Berry, because I've had enough blood on my hands lately. But yeah, from Friday night to Monday night." She answered with a scowl, not happy at all about how he talked about the diva; she'd had a grudge against him ever since he blackmailed poor, naïve Rachel into giving him a pair of her underwear. It was kind of fucking sick.

"You m…mention blood. Your clothing makes you look like you'd been attacked, and you posted pictures of weapons, c…can I get a comment on that?" Jewfro asked, which was silly, because Quinn had mentioned that she'd fought and killed a wolf. She didn't think she'd have to reiterate the tale.

Santana let out a frustrated sigh, shaking her head at the prospect of talking about it all. Still, it gave her a way to set the story straight. "Me and Berry ran into some trouble, but as you can see, we're still standing. The wolf whose throat I slit was one of them…I taught Berry how to toss a hatchet, so I didn't do it alone, even if I did the dirty work. And then we ran into a shotgun-wielding hillbilly and his two beasts of dogs…Berry went all Lara Croft the things and shouted down the asshole." She replied with a casual shrug. "We're badasses, she's just more modest than me. That good enough for you, Jewfro?"

Having felt she made her point, she positioned herself back on her crutches and started moving around the clown, but he stuck his microphone out in front of her before blocking the doors. "Wait! You and Rachel were out there for a long time, people could suspect that you both got inti…" Jacob started with an absolutely disgustingly slimy grin that she would have slapped off if she could have. Instead, she slammed her head forward, head-butting the slime ball and causing him to stumble out of the way.

"You don't want to finish that question…and you definitely don't want to ask Berry that question, because it's clearly not in your best interests, am I clear?" she grit out, sure that her glare was absolutely aflame with the rage that practically had her vibrating. It wasn't as if the question would have been bad coming from Q or Britt, but that dude basically stalked Rachel, and she didn't want him thinking anything. "Your time's up, asshole."

With that, she stormed into the empty room, taking a seat in the front row. Normally, Santana sat higher on the risers, but she knew well that stairs and crutches didn't go well together. Feeling instantly bored, she fished into her backpack, pulling out her spare glee folder; it wasn't like she was crazy prepared or anything like Berry, but solos for her were rare. Sometimes, Schue let people that weren't the main players take the floor, and she wanted to have things ready if the opportunity ever came up. And she hid that folder, because she liked the idea of people thinking it was effortless for her, instead of knowing that she'd often spend time working on her performances at home after she'd finished her homework. Glee was her favourite part of the day, and she was competitive. She didn't think it was a massive stretch that she'd be dedicated to it, even if she pretended not to be.

As soon as the door clicked open, that folder was back in her bag, but she had an idea of what she'd work on throughout the week; Santana knew her neck was too roughed up at the moment to take part in singing or anything, but she hoped that maybe by the last glee session of the year that she'd be recovered enough to do a solo in front of the whole club. Normally, she needed help; duets were always a lot easier for her to handle, because as much as she loved the spotlight, singers like Rachel and Mercedes kind of intimidated her. Well, more Rachel than Mercedes, but the girl had pipes, even if she was raw and pretty mediocre in the other aspects of performing.

But ultimately, as she'd explained to Rachel, she just didn't want to be second best. But at the same time, she also kind of really liked singing and dancing, and wanted to sing a song to her girls. Well, not that they were 'hers' in any sort of intimate sense outside of friendship or anything. Well, not that she wouldn't possibly like that, at least with one of the three, but she knew most girls were straight. Lima was strike-out city when it came to romance, and it just wasn't likely in the cards. Sure, she liked being affectionate with Rachel, but she didn't see it going anywhere past the realm of friendship, even if she did have a bit of a crush on the diva.

Which might have been the reason why she was smiling like she hadn't seen the girl in weeks when Rachel walked into the room, even though she'd seen her maybe an hour and forty minutes ago at most. Whatever; Santana knew that she tended to want things pretty badly sometimes, and that usually scared her, especially when she was in denial about her sexuality. But it wasn't so complicated anymore; at least, it didn't need to be, now that Rachel knew. Knowing that one more person in the world understood her secret was kind of huge. It made Santana feel like she'd have more people on her side if things went bad, and that was important, because she hated being alone.

"You're here early." The diva stated, looking both pleased and confused, plopping down in the seat beside her.

"Needed to take my meds, so my teacher gave me the rest of the period off. I just got here." She stated; a white lie of sorts, but she didn't want a scolding of how skipping was poor form, or something along those lines.

Rachel gave her a sad smile and Santana felt her hand being squeezed, not having even noticed the diva reaching out for it. "Really…you should take the rest of the week off. You need to rest, San." Rachel spoke softly, using her thumb to gently caress the back of Santana's hand. Her eyes couldn't stop staring at their hands together, mostly because she knew that if she looked anywhere else, she'd probably end up staring into the diva's eyes, and that would likely be a bad idea with the meds kicking in and making her a little freer and candid.

"I can't protect you if I'm at home lying in bed. I promised you." Santana not leaning a little toward Rachel, unable to stifle a happy sigh when the brunette scooted her chair closer and angled her body into Santana's, their shoulders resting against each other. "And glee's the best part of my day…I can rest this summer, estrella." Santana knew that summer was fast approaching, and with a number of her major assignments having been done in advance, she mostly just had final exams to prepare for. Nothing entirely strenuous. She didn't want Berry to worry that she was putting her health at risk just attending classes.

Santana hadn't meant to slip out the nickname quite yet, generally preferring to keep it for when they weren't at school, but the combined blush and shy smile on Rachel's face made her wonder if perhaps it wouldn't be a good idea to use it more freely. Rachel was her friend, after all, and she liked making her friends happy.

"I just worry…I'm a worrier, I'm overbearing, and kind of high maintenance. I want you to be healed up right now, but you can't be, so I just want it to happen as fast as possible, because I don't like seeing you in pain." The diva stated with sad confidence, giving her hand a squeeze.

"Rachel, I'm okay, I…" she started, but when Kurt and Mercedes marched into the room, she clammed up a little, bringing her free hand over to cover their interwoven heads before pulling away entirely. "I promise, estrella." She whispered, offering the girl an apologetic smile. Santana figured that there was already enough gossip that they'd have to endure in glee. Showing how close they'd gotten would be better left for another day. Rachel seemed to understand, by the encouraging expression she flashed her, before looking over to Kurt and Mercedes, offering them a small wave.

As the club filtered in, the buzzing white noise of hushed gossip built, almost to an unbearable level. She'd expected them to bombard them with questions, but they'd all been keeping their shit to themselves. If it was any consolation, Rachel seemed entirely surprised too, though not as surprised as when Finn lumbered over to her, stopping well within Rachel's personal space.

"Hey Rach!" The boy exclaimed cheerfully, wearing that dopey grin that some girls inexplicably fell for. To Santana, it just made him look like a gassy infant, but she was a lesbian, and she supposed that her tastes varied a lot from other girls. Though his boobs were the least appealing set she'd ever seen. Seriously. Custard nipples.

Santana suppressed a shudder from the thought and paid close attention to the oaf who was towering over the diva. She wasn't a fan of how he seemed to subconsciously use his size against her so often. Especially when he wanted something, or when he was upset.

"Hello, Finn. Is there something you needed?" Rachel asked with a level of politeness that constantly surprised Santana, because Finn constantly did rude shit to the diva, like ignoring her when she talked, ogling Quinn while dating the brunette. Or, more recently, trying to kiss Rachel after she rejected him, and after she'd yelled 'No!' at him. Honestly, he'd looked like he was trying to swallow her or something, and it kind of disgusted her, so she'd thrown every insult in both of her English and Spanish vocabularies at him. Thankfully, the giant had been humiliated and went back to the waiting room to sulk, but the disappointment in Rachel's face cut through her something fierce. Santana knew Rachel still liked Finn as a friend, but she wasn't about to sit by as the boy forced himself on her newest friend.

"Oh, I was just gonna bring you over to our usual seats." Finn stated confidently, still holding that idiotic grin. It was ridiculous how he usually treated her like some toy or object he owned, instead of someone who could make her own decisions. Seriously, Santana didn't understand what others saw in him. Her taking the boy's virginity had been a mercy to all the other McKinley girls, ensuring he likely wouldn't be nearly as selfish the other times he did the deed with whatever unfortunate partner he could find.

Rachel seemed to tense a bit at his words, and her polite, cheerful expression morphed into one that made the diva seem like she was a split second away from tossing down a smoke bomb and darting away to safety. "Finn, I'm content to sit here, so if you'll just go find a seat, Mister Schuester would…"

"But we always sit together. I mean, unless you're mad at me for some reason, but I know you were tired and everything on Monday, and you don't like kissing when you are, and I know you still love me, so just come sit with me." He rambled out, his reasoning so silly it would be deemed too unrealistic and foolish for a children's picture book. Seriously, again, Santana had no idea what anyone saw in him. Sometimes he meant well and was nice at times, sure, but that described most people. She watched his face turn a little redder, his grin dropping into a confused frown as Rachel shook her head. "But you're sitting beside Santana, Rach. She hates you, remember?"

Santana couldn't help but scoff openly at that, earning a glare from the man-child in the process that was about as intimidating as a toddler. Honestly, how patronizing can he be? Rachel was having what Santana liked to call a moment of barely restrained frustration, something she'd witnessed many times on Friday night and also while death marching the girl on Sunday. It meant that she had a short open window to speak before Rachel went off on a rant. "Finn, just go to your seat before you do or say something you'll regret."

Of course, she'd meant it in the frame of his friendship with Rachel, but he seemed to take it differently, his face darkening in response to her words. "Are you threatening me?" he grit out, with a single, hard laugh, his eyes scanning her wounded body.

"I'm being nice for Berry's sake, because you're being an idiot, and you need to step back before you make Rachel more upset." She spoke lowly, challenging him with her own glare, that seemed to bring out a level of hesitancy, his eyes flicking back and forth between her and the diva, who was paying very close attention to them both.

"Right, because a bitch like you would know better than her boyfriend how to make her happy." Finn stated pointedly, and while he seemed to somehow lack any knowledge of what had occurred that weekend, he was missing her point entirely.

"I'm not sure how to make her happy like that, maybe, but I know when she's upset, and I know the warning signs she sends off when she's losing her cool. If you paid attention to her at all, you'd see she's really uncomfortable right now, so you should step back and go to your seat." Santana stated, clarifying her point in hopes Finn would let it through his thick skull. She really wished that Schue was there to just force the boy to move on, but he was probably macking on Ms. Pillsbury, and the rest of glee was watching on in rapt silence.

Finn started clenching and relaxing his fists at his side, and Santana saw Quinn start to stand up before Britt held her in place. Santana was thankful, because she was still confident that she could get the boy to move on. She was just getting less confident that she could do it without being so incendiary that he'd catch fire. "If she's uncomfortable about anyone here, it's you, Santana! You tortured her for years, and then she was stuck dealing with you all weekend long, so why don't you find another seat and leave her alone?"

She took a moment to really let the oaf's words sink in, unable to contain her disbelief at how idiotic Finn was being. "She was uncomfortable when you tried to kiss her Monday night, which happened after she shut you down. She was uncomfortable when Quinn and Britt visited me. She was uncomfortable this morning with some of the stares she was getting. Just like she's not comfortable with you standing so close, saying you're her boyfriend when you haven't even been dating. Just because you kissed her at nationals on a stage doesn't change the fact that she keeps telling you no, and you keep ignoring her, so go find somewhere to sit afores I can't keep up this polite front anymore, because it's fading quick." She was only being honest; her body was seething with a rage that was only contained by the fact that she knew her friends would be upset and worried if she went and beat Finn with one of her crutches.

"And just because you spent a weekend alone with her doesn't change the fact that she doesn't like you. No one does, so why don't you just…" Finn started, before shutting up as Rachel shot up to her feet, that goofy smile returning to his face immediately.

"Finn…you will not talk that way about Santana, do you understand?" Rachel growled out. Literally, the diva looked and sounded like some demonic queen, all fire-eyed with a menacing scowl that she'd never seen adorning the brunette's features. Admittedly, it was kind of hot, and it was totally cool that Berry stuck up for her.

"Rach, she's a bitch, she hates you. Let's just go…" Finn Started again, but Rachel surprisingly pushed him out of her little personal bubble of space and pointed out her finger at him, warning him not to come closer.

"Finn, if Santana hated me, she would have let the men we encountered hurt me, perhaps take me away. If she hated me, she would have left me to survive on my own instead of dragging me to safety despite me being a crying mess. She wouldn't have spent half an hour in torrential rain setting up our tent while I was sheltered from the storm. She wouldn't have given me first aid after the car crash. She wouldn't have made me breakfast, told me jokes, or stayed up all night just to give me peace of mind that animals wouldn't attack us. And when a wolf DID attack us, she made sure I was safe and out of harm's way immediately. Someone who hated me wouldn't constantly put me before her own needs, Finn. Before her own life…" Rachel ranted angrily, her arms flailing angrily as she gave the club something of a Coles Notes version of what happened. Of course, Rachel omitted the fact that as someone with knowledge and training out in the wild, she more or less had a responsibility to care for the diva. Not that she didn't want to anyway, but it was like doctors when people have heart-attacks in the street. They have to help, it's not something they could skip out on. "And over that weekend, I learned enough about her to proudly name her as my friend, and I'm excited about the prospect of having more friends. It's why I sat by her today. And she's right, you have made me uncomfortable, so I would prefer you return to your seat."

Finn looked entirely taken aback by the rant, the faint sound of hushed voices filling the silence between the trio. Honestly, Santana was proud of the little diva, and a little bit thrilled that Rachel stood up for her like that, even if she went a bit overboard on the details. After all, she wanted people to know how badass she was, not how she had a soft spot and looked out for the diva all weekend. She didn't spare the man-child another glance, her eyes unwilling to move from Berry, who was still standing and giving Finn a pointed look. Santana could see that the diva was shaking, but her rage had faded, and now she just looked like her body was in conflict over whether to do a diva storm-out, or to break down. Finn, for his part, seemed to be incapable of moving while his tiny little brain worked away on what he'd hopefully listened to.

Santana met Brittany's eyes and made a slight gesture toward Rachel, the tall blonde immediately understanding as she got to her feet. "Rachel, will you help me pick a song for Lord Tubbington's fourteenth birthday party?" Brittany asked, walking toward the trio, who were all still very much locked in place, though Rachel seemed to at least be aware of the blonde. "We're all just waiting for Mr. Schue anyway, and it shouldn't take long to see what Duran Duran song will make him happiest."

At that, Berry's mouth opened and closed a few times, before nodding ever so slightly, her gaze still locked on Finn. "Yes…I suppose that…I can make time to help your cat if it's for his birthday."

Brittany clapped happily for a few moments before dragging Rachel out of the choir room, which was signal enough for Santana to get to her feet, because if Finn couldn't take a hint, she'd turn that hint into a flat-out order. For her part, Quinn seemed to be on the same page; if Finn had been paying attention to his periphery, he probably would have scampered off with his tail between his legs, considering how icy Quinn's glare was. "Now here's how it's gonna be, Lumps. I'mma speak real slow so you can understand. Rachel doesn't want to date you. So sit your flabby ass down and keep your distance." She grit out, knowing her meds were kicking in, so even if he tried anything, she wouldn't feel much of it. Santana would totes risk aggravating her sprain to shove her shoe up the dopey idiot's ass if he kept acting like he was that day.

"Whatever game you're playing, you need to stop. I won't let you hurt Rachel, Satan." Finn shot back, puffing up like the Stay Puft man from Ghostbusters, appearing just as intimidating.

Santana shook her head in disbelief that he was exactly as she'd pegged him out in the woods. "Did you even listen to her?! Every time she talks, you just shut your fucking brain down! And she knows that, so can you blame her for ditching your sorry ass and moving onto someone better?"

Now, Finn was an idiot, but he wasn't blind; the way he looked at her right then, the maliciousness of his grin, it all told her that her not-so-well-kept secret was about to be put out into the spotlight. "You can dream, Satan, but she's not into girls. We all know you love Brittany, but she doesn't love you back…and you think one weekend will make Rachel go gay for you?" Finn spoke slowly, a small grin forming on his face as she stared him down. "You might not be a coward anymore, but you're still alone. You tear everyone down because you can't admit how you feel, and…"

She honestly couldn't listen to another word out of his stinking, putrid mouth, and it was literally all she could do to keep from physically attacking him. First off, she knew Rachel would be disappointed, and secondly, she knew that if she got suspended, it would likely spread into the following year. Missing the first day of her senior year wasn't an option, neither was missing the last day, or any more days of glee. His words stung, they were harsh, but they were out there. And she had Quinn sizing Finn up like she was some lioness looking at a prized, vulnerable kill.

"So I like girls. Whatever…Britt's straight, and this is Lima. Not a lot a lady lovin' going round, and I'm good with that. Just like I'm good with Berry finding a sexy piece of man meat that she deserves. This isn't about me, you fuckwit, it's about her, so get it through your thick skull that she doesn't love you, she doesn't want you…and if it makes you feel fucking satisfied, she doesn't want me either." She noted with feigned disbelief, scoffing at how much he was assuming. Sure, she liked the diva a lot, but even she understood that Berry had shown no concrete signs of swinging in her direction. "I'm sure my heart's just breaking that I've got three of the finest badass lady friends in all of Ohio, and none want to jump my bones. Hey Q, you're a bit taller than me. Can you hang some rope from the support beam on my room's ceiling tonight? I don't think I'll be able to do it myself, and I obviously can't stand living in this world any longer, for Finn Hudson has crushed my spirit." She finished, her words dripping with sarcasm as she gave Finn a withering glare that finally had the boy cautiously moving backward, jumping in shock as his body collided against Quinn's.

Santana wasn't really sure what the fuck was going on in glee, because even Mercedes and Kurt were shell-shocked. Zizes was tossing back popcorn that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. Puck was giving her an odd look, both Changs were whispering to themselves, and Artie seemed entirely satisfied with himself, and perhaps amused at the situation. She'd sort him out later, she figured.

One look at Quinn and Finn literally ran off, out of the choir room and into the halls, which seemed to relax some of the tension. Enough to get the room abuzz again.

"So you're like…into chicks too?" Puck called out from his spot on the risers. She took a moment to gain the will to answer, knowing the cat was out of the bag; she'd just have to be a badass and handle it.

Santana offered him an apologetic shrug. "Lesbian." It was one word that she'd rarely ever spoke, as it had held a lot of power over her life. She watched on, feeling a fair bit nervous as Puck pondered it over for a moment, his mouth curling into a small frown.

"I was your beard." He stated, a certain detachment to his voice initially before he started nodding his head a little. "Happy to oblige."

She smiled a little at the words, not having expected them from him, seeing as he'd gained a lot of rep from the rumours of their sexual activities. She quickly scanned the rest of the room, noticing everyone was talking with each other except for Quinn, who was staring expressionlessly at her. Deciding to make a call, she looked at the clock and shrugged. "Schue's probably not gonna show soon, so I'm not about to waste my time here waiting." She stated, turning to face the risers. "I'd appreciate if you keep what you heard between us, is that clear?" she asked, her eyes challenging anyone to disagree. Thankfully, pretty much everyone paying attention seemed to be pretty cool. Zizes was too busy snacking to do much else, but the girl rarely spoke, so she didn't consider her an issue.

After a moment of mixed affirmations, she turned her gaze to Quinn and gestured toward one of the choir room doors. "Can you gimme a lift, Q?"

Santana was relieved when her blonde friend nodded, falling in beside her as they made their way out of the room, quickly navigating out toward the parking lot. She was tired of their daily prison, and kind of just wanted to go curl up on her bed and maybe feel sorry for herself, think, let jealousy take over, or perhaps all three at once. It'd been a hell of a day.

A/N: Well, after a fairly long delay involving a number of variations in the outlining process, I've finally pushed this out :D Not sure how regular updates will be. It's not going to be huge, maybe 5 or 6 chapters. Anywho, I hope you've enjoyed this so far :)

Just want to thank everyone for your support in recent months :) You've all been quite exemplary :D