Guilt and Envy

Rated: T (for language)

Pairing(s): Faberrittana friendship, side Brittana

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any of the songs used in this story.

A/N: I'm not entirely sure where this story's gonna go, hence my lack of updating in... quite a while. But recently I had the urge to just try getting out a chapter, and I ended up picking up my laptop and just writing and writing. Thus this chapter was born. :)

"God, you're really trying to kill me, Berry."

The call she had received from Rachel had been a surprise, both from the time and the actual reason she was calling, and while Santana wasn't known to be the most kind or "helpful" person, she decided to say "why not?" and answer the girl's request to come pick her up.

Of course, her small act of kindness decided to bite her straight in the ass. Just that made her want to give up altogether.

Greeted with a downpour of rain after leaving her house at one in the morning made her seriously doubt how much she would actually gain from doing this for Rachel. The two weren't friends in the same way as Rachel was with Quinn-even though the story of how that came to be was less than entertaining-but the latina found that if calling Quinn was not an option, it made sense that she called her. That made her feel just wonderful.

Now cursing from the heavens and beyond at the rain that pelted her thin jacket and jeans that she had yet to change out of, she wondered again why she was doing this. God forbid Quinn call her at 1 AM for a ride-Santana would probably laugh as a reply and hang up, possibly suffering the consequences of ignoring little Ms. Queen Bitch at Cheerios practice the next day. But then again, Rachel wasn't Quinn, and Santana wasn't entirely sure she could deal with Brittany's pout and silent treatment for leaving the midget out in the rain.

She was thankful for the cover when she finally reached her car, but annoyed once more when her keys decided to be difficult and get stuck in her pocket. By the time she actually got in the car she was drenched, and quite possibly considering murder for the person who had caused her to drag herself out.

The situation that Rachel put herself in was really the only thing Santana could think about as she passed house after house, barely concerned for watching the road when no one was awake at this time. As complicated as the diva might try to explain the story, it was rather simple: Finnocence was being a douche again, and Rachel probably went all diva-mode on him.

Lovely. She was now left to take care of their mess.

The latina briefly considered calling Quinn-'cause hey, when you're Santana, you really have no reason to be worried for peoples' reactions-but decided against it after realizing that she would have been Rachel's first choice to call. Since Santana was obviously the one cursing at herself for even agreeing to do this, Quinn must have been busy. That woman liked to torture her.

When Santana turned onto Finn's street, she squinted her eyes at the black shape on their porch, actually being relieved that Frankenteen hadn't dumped her on the streets. Made her hate him just a little bit less.

She didn't even have to announce her presence before Rachel was heading towards the car, jacket held over her head to keep her head relatively dry. Noting that the girl wasn't even remotely wet, Santana breathed a sigh of relief that her leather seats would be spared.

"So what goes on, Berry?" Santana sighed, but couldn't help the small grin as she looked at Rachel who, by now, had stopped crying and now wore a scowl. "You and Finnocence having another cat fight? Did you at least kick him in the nuts?"

"Santana!"

"What?"

Rachel groaned, shoving her face in her hands as Santana laughed at her frustration, keeping her eyes forward instead of studying the other girl. She was not good at giving advice; Rachel could get that from Brittany, who knew a lot more about the world than people gave her credit for, or Quinn, the bossy know-it-all who could probably do a lot more help than her in this type of situation.

But then again, Santana wasn't exactly given a choice in that department.

Thankfully, Rachel was the kind of person who could talk enough for three people, and tonight she didn't seem as hesitant as she appeared to be on the phone.

"-he walked away after that." The brunette finished, most likely explaining the same story that Brittany had eavesdropped on. Just to show she was listening, the latina grunted and nodded, encouraging her to continue. "I don't know what happened. He's been weird the past couple days… but we haven't fought. Maybe I did something and he needs space…"

"Woah, woah, woah…" Santana cut her off there. "Okay, so yeah, you probably did something. Your fights with Finn usually start that way-" she ignored the glare Rachel sent her. "-but I can bet money that he probably did something too. I doubt he's cheating 'cause you know, not many girls would want him…"

"Finn's fine the way he is." Rachel interjected.

"Yeah, yeah, sure." Santana waved her off, continuing while the brunette stubbornly crossed her arms. "But seriously. Tubs probably needed a break from your complaining. I would too." Before Rachel could open her mouth and go off on one of her infamous rants, she continued. "Not to say that this is bad for you."

"What are you talking about?" Rachel uncrossed her arms but still held the willful look in her eyes. Santana knew very well that the only way she could keep the conversation one-sided was to keep Rachel from getting a word in.

"It's senior year. You're… taking a break, if you wanna call what you guys do every month a 'break,' and you have the freedom to do a bunch of crap. Why you complaining?"

"Don't you think that's a bit hypocritical?" Santana scoffed at her retort. "You're happy with Brittany, aren't you?

The latina knew very well that would be her point, but she wasn't really sure how to explain it. Finn and Brittany were very different. She knew that, and Rachel knew that. She didn't know why she had to defend herself when the answer was so obvious.

"Yeah, but there's always gonna be something you miss." The latina told her. "It's been a long time since you've been single. Maybe you should take advantage of it before chasing after Lover-boy again."

Rachel actually laughed. Santana couldn't help but feel accomplished that at least some of her words made sense to the diva. "You're crazy. Why did I call you again?"

"I dunno. I'd like to know, too."

Rachel shrugged. "Quinn told me to call you."

What? She wasn't really expecting that.

"Was she dead when you called? Did she just think I'd pick up her slack?" Santana grumbled.

"No, she was actually awake." Damn you, Quinn. "She told me 'Maybe you should call Santana. I'm sure she'd be happy to help."

What annoyed and slightly pissed her off is the way that Rachel relayed the message. It sounded like she just took a golden opportunity at needing someone to help out Rachel. Fucking Quinn was messing with her! Either that or she was seriously asking for an early death.

I swear I'm gonna...

"...Thanks for picking me up." Santana blinked when Rachel spoke, somewhat subdued. And while the latina was surprised, she didn't make that fact known to anyone.

"No problem, Berry."

When they finally pulled over, the shorter girl gave her a quizzical look, her eyes moving to the house in front of her while Santana started getting out of the car.

"You told your dad you were going to Mercedes' house. Mine might not be as nice, but I'm sure you're not looking to be picky tonight."

Rachel opened the car door slowly, but soon accepted the rather open invitation from Santana and followed her to the doorsteps. When the keys moved and the door finally opened, the latina sent her a grin.

"Welcome to my humble abode."