So I am procrastinating ridiculously. I managed to watch both seasons of PLL in 3 days. Didn't sleep at all. And now I am back here! Also, after this week's first listen Friday, and I'm pretty sure RIB will have to change the show's name to 'The Blaine Show'. Blaine Blaine Blaine Blaine! Erugh.

The dimly lit basement smelled of a musty, thick air as Santana's eyes slit open. Everything was silent, but somehow there was still a horrible ringing in her ears. She opened her eyes further; her body aching in some places and completely asleep in others, not feeling rested at all. Her head was throbbing as Santana realized her and Brittany had fallen asleep together and remained in the exact same position for the entire night. Then she smiled, pain dissipating at once. She burrowed her head further into Brittany's chest as she tangled their legs closer together.

"Morning," she slurred.

Brittany's eyes popped open suddenly, pulled out of sleep by Santana's breath on her neck.

"Mhmm."

The blonde smiled, placing a kiss on Santana's forehead. "We're still here," she murmured lazily.

"Yep, we still are."

They pulled each other in even closer for a hug; it was something they did almost every morning to show their thankfulness for not being killed in their sleep. Everyday for the past few weeks had been a near death experience, and even now in the safety of Quinn's basement did they still feel grateful for waking up in each other's arms; alive.

Santana raised her head and looked around. Quinn and Rachel weren't around. Instead of feeling anxious, the girl grinned, happy to be rid of Rachel's obnoxious mouth and Quinn's incessant demands. She laid her head back down, shifting upwards to be level with Brittany, and fixed her gaze on the blonde's big blue eyes. Together they submerged in their secluded silence, just gazing at each other for a small moment. There was nothing in this house, nothing in Lima, nothing in the world that could ever be as captivating as Brittany's eyes. In them Santana was whisked worlds away, where she could bask in their memories in peace.

She remembered the long, boiling summers they'd spent alone in her bedroom, with Brittany's naked body draped across her own. Way back when they still had the freedom and luxury of feeling bored. It was such as simple thing – boredom. Nowadays such a thing would probably cost them their lives. For hours upon hours the girls would just lie there soaking in the lassitude of it all, and in Brittany's boundless blue eyes Santana saw the endless journeys they would make together. Sometimes she swore she would see the waves of rippling blue oceans, or maybe even frozen icicles melting in the sunlight. Brittany's piercing gaze would be intently focused on Santana; it made her want to crawl up into those immeasurable eyes and be safe forever, like a child hiding from a storm.

Three years ago, summer 2011

A cool breeze joined the girls briefly, rustling the soft white curtains ever so slightly as it seemed to wade through the window of Brittany's room. Santana sighed quietly when the breeze reached her glistening body, providing the room with much needed relief. The Ohio summer was at its peak, Santana swore she could see the little heat waves rippling right outside the window, but they were quickly forgotten as Brittany shifted her lithe body onto her own.

Brittany's kisses were light and gentle and velvety on her face, so soft and feathery that Santana hardly would've noticed if not for the short breaths Brittany took between each peck, or the way her fingers glided effortlessly through Santana's.

"Britt," Santana smiled, her neck ticklish as Brittany's golden hair brushed against it.

Brittany sat up a little, pushed her hair over one shoulder and moved to kiss the other side of Santana's face, ignoring her. She gently kissed the spot below Santana's ear, making the girl below her twitch ever so slightly.

"Brittany."

"San."

"Come here."

Brittany stopped, lying down and facing Santana. Santana groomed through the blonde's hair, moving strands out of her freckled face. Every sense and feeling of one another was heightened. She could feel every centimetre of Brittany's slightly moist skin against her own. She could feel the girl inhale and exhale, pressing further into Santana's chest. She felt her heart, so close to her own as they pumped blood through her veins. She felt all of her. Then she lost herself in Brittany's eyes, dreaming of open roads and endless sky.

"If you could go anywhere right now, where would you go?" Santana asked. The heat had become so unbearable that it had shot into triple digits. Rachel, overly ambitious and obnoxious as she was, had decided to invite the glee club for a pool party and naturally, Santana had found herself being dragged along by Brittany.

Brittany spun around, blue eyes shimmering with wanderlust. Santana could almost see the thousands of destinations exploding to life in Brittany's mind as the girl tried hard to pick just one. It didn't matter. Santana already knew which one she'd pick.

"Florida," she said, before continuing to spin round in circles by their deck chairs.

She was stunning. Breathtaking. Beautiful. And Santana could go on and on.

Her eyes groomed up the spinning body; Brittany was all long limbed and muscle toned, every inch of her skin kissed by the sun's light. She watched as golden hair tumbled down over her bare shoulders and as other locks flew in the air as she whirled, radiating magic and sunshine towards everyone around her. Santana melted when Brittany stopped suddenly – slightly dizzy – and smiled the biggest smile Santana had ever seen on anyone, before she bent over and kissed her lightly on the nose.

"Why Florida?" Santana asked. She already knew why.

Brittany's eyes glazed over, dreamily. "I want to see the sea."

Santana smirked. "No, you just want to try and ride the dolphins."

Brittany giggled, not bothering to deny her. The sound almost pushed Santana over her feet. A split second later she found herself being yanked up over Brittany's shoulder. She grabbed at Brittany's back and yelled and pounded; before she knew it she was flying through the air and into the pool. She splashed straight in, plunging into the depths of the blue. The cool water alleviated the heat of the day, and when Santana decided to surface, she watched Brittany dive in just like the dolphins she dreamed of seeing.

Water droplets clung to her shining, toned abdomen as she floated towards Santana, who yearned to touch her. The curve of her breasts, the deep gorge between her collarbones and her long, glistening neck; it captivated Santana, locking her eyes to Brittany's gorgeous body. Sam had pushed both Finn and Puck into the pool at the deep end, sending tidal waves toward the girls. The water sloshed against Brittany's gleaming skin, and Santana stared with hungry eyes; teeth biting down on her lower lip with desire. Brittany opened one eye, picked up on Santana's undulating look of longing and immediately she felt amazed by Santana's shamelessness, and so proud of how far the girl had come. Just a couple months ago they couldn't even hold hands in public. Now, Brittany could show Santana off to world, every single day.

Santana waded towards her girl, backing her up against the pool wall. She wrapped her hands around the blonde's waist, bringing herself in close, and stared deep into the eyes that reminded her so much of the ocean she'd never seen.

"I'll show you the sea one day." Santana whispered.

That was all it took. Before she knew it Brittany's lips were on her own, and she felt her blood race through her veins as their lips melded together for the thousandth time. Always, it felt like coming home. Neither girl cared who was watching anymore. They blocked out the sounds of Puck's cheering and Kurt's gushing; cutting themselves off from the world. Santana closed her eyes, embracing the silk of Brittany's tongue as it slid on her lower lid, making Santana lean in further. A small moan escaped her and she wrapped an arm around Brittany's neck; her own wet strands of raven black hair clinging to the blonde's cheeks. She could feel Brittany's bright smile against her lips.

"San? San," Brittany poked lightly at Santana's nose, like ringing a doorbell. "Can you hear me? Earth to Santana?"

Santana snapped out of the time machine that Brittany's eyes had induced, blinking back to the present.

"Thought I lost you there for a minute," Brittany chirped. She began rubbing Santana's back up and down, running her fingers along the curve of her waist.

"Yeah… I was just remembering some stuff."

Santana looked at Brittany poignantly. She had shown Brittany the sea in Florida, only the first time they'd laid eyes on the rolling waves they were also being chased by a hoard of undead. It just wasn't fair – what life had thrown at them. Together they had experienced so much, probably more than Quinn and Rachel could even believe, and yet Brittany was staring straight at Santana with a smile no smaller than the one she wore on that hot summer day five years ago. No one could ever break this beautiful girl, and Santana was forever thankful that she had Brittany to hold herself together. She returned the smile Brittany was giving her.

"I love it when you smile." Brittany whispered. "You hardly smile anymore."

Santana cupped her face, tracing her thumb over her freckled cheekbones. She pulled her in for a long, relieving kiss. Which turned into another kiss, and another, and then another, and then a full on make out session.

Santana broke off for a second, eyeing the room again.

"I think I know how we can pass the time."

The two of them scurried towards the Cadillac, both with crates full of food and other supplies. The sun was rising in the sky as they walked out of another abandoned store.

"You sure Brittany and Santana won't wonder where we've gone?"

Quinn rolled her eyes. "I'm pretty sure they wouldn't notice even if we died and never came back."

"I love how you have so much faith in your friends."

Quinn nudged Rachel's shoulder, sending her stumbling over a little as she tried to control the crate's contents from falling out. They loaded the car's trunk with the supplies before Quinn closed the trunk. Instead of getting in the car, Rachel stood there, shuffling her feet and twiddling her fingers. Quinn studied her, suddenly realizing what Rachel wanted.

"You want to drive the car again."

Rachel's voice was barely audible. "Yes."

Quinn sighed, knowing in the end she would not be able to deny this girl. The 'act' was too adorable.

"The last time you drove my car you almost wrapped around a pole!"

"That's only because you were screaming at me the whole time I was driving it!"

"And that's only because you were blasting Rent on the CD player!"

Rachel ogled at Quinn with her entrancing chocolate eyes, actively hypnotising Quinn into handing over the keys. Quinn shook her head and smiled. Of course Rachel would win over. It was always like this with Rachel. She both loved and hated how easily the brunette could mould her. Before she even realized, the keys were already in Rachel's hand and the girl was skipping over into the driver's seat.

Child.

Quinn resorted to the passenger seat and they were off, her eyes wide in fear as Rachel ambled the car down the road.

"You don't even now how to use the stick properly!"

"Calm down I'm doing just fine." Rachel was having a blast, while Quinn looked as if she were sitting on a nuclear bomb.

"You need to release the clutch."

"I am. Look at my feet I did it."

"Wait, you're not at the right speed for that gear!"

"It's fine!"

"Clutch! No. No that's not the clutch! Rach! Second gear! No that's third gear- NO RACHEL THAT'S REVERSE! Oh my God! Rachel, shit. No! Stick it left – the other left!"

"I know what I'm doing!"

"Ugh no! Here just let me do it." Quinn reached over to grab the stick, but was blocked by Rachel's hand. A small hand slapping fight ensued as the car veered from left to right, winding down the road.

"Quinn! Please be quiet and refrain from grabbing the gear stick! I promise you I have this under control! If you would just let me do it instead of berating me every second!" Rachel pleaded, trying to push Quinn's insistent hands away from the car's controls.

Quinn could practically feel her car falling apart in the hands of Rachel Berry as she tried to grab the gear stick from her.

"Stop the car! Just stop. Stop now."

"Quinn-"

"Stop!"

Rachel pulled to a heavy stop; slamming the breaks down hard and making the two of them lurch forwards in their seats. They sat there panting like they had just run a marathon. Rachel opened her mouth as soon as she had gathered enough breath.

"I had it under-"

"No, you didn't."

"Yes I did! You just don't trust me enough with-"

"Get out of the driver's seat."

Quinn didn't wait for Rachel to argue back. She stepped out of the car and quickly made her way around to Rachel. They swapped places in silence. Within a few seconds they were gliding smoothly along the silent, crumbling streets again.

Rachel rolled the windows down, propping her elbow on the window frame. For a while she simply stared out at the streets, not saying a word. Quinn kept her eyes forward too, keeping both hands on the wheel. The frustration was building up in the car; both girls could feel it in their throats. It wasn't even a big fight, but they knew it was all the little disagreements they had everyday which were really starting to get to them. Quinn realized this was getting dangerous. With Santana under her roof, there would definitely be more pathetic fights over trivial things.

"Q-Quinn." Rachel spoke softly, staring at her knees. "You're not mad at me, are you?"

Quinn swallowed. Was the girl about to cry? Rachel's hitched voice ripped Quinn's chest apart; she tried desperately to hold onto the threads of her anger as they seemingly disappeared at the sound of Rachel's words.

"No. No, no I just – I just love this car. I can't stand the thought of it being wrecked."

Quinn kept her eyes forward; she knew the car was a metaphor for something else, and she knew if she even glimpsed at Rachel then she'd probably end up doing something really, really stupid.

"I'm sorry."

Rachel turned to look at Quinn, who looked strained and nervous at the same time. Why did it look like she having an internal battle with herself?

"I just thought we could do something fun alone this morning before we get back to Santana." Rachel said, compassion in her expression.

Quinn's brain stopped functioning at the word 'alone'. What exactly did Rachel want? Was Santana driving a wedge between them? After a moment of puzzlement Quinn spoke.

"Don't worry about Santana. We'll… we'll deal with her. Somehow. And we're gonna be fine, Rach. There's plenty of ways for us to have fun in this old empty town… just don't ask to drive my car again!" Quinn said, allowing herself to grin at Rachel briefly.

Rachel chuckled a little, relaxing back into her seat. Without thinking Quinn reached over, her hand falling on Rachel's knee.

The awkward silence that followed was thoroughly unbearable.

Quinn instantly glued her eyes to the road, putting on her emergency level poker face, and privately kicking herself in the soul for doing what she'd just done. She didn't dare twitch her hand, her arm, her shoulder. The entire right side of her body stiffened like ice. For all anybody knew it could've been a marble statue driving the Cadillac down the street. An idiotic, ridiculous, senseless marble statue.

What the hell was Rachel thinking? Why the fuck isn't she saying anything? Say something god damn it! Ask me what the hell I'm doing? Tell me to move my hand! Quinn's lips formed a narrow line across her pale white face, still trying not to consume any oxygen at all. Her hands were clammy and hot on Rachel's knee, she could feel sweat flowing out of every single pore like burning lava. Quinn tried to conjure up something to say, something to do that wouldn't make removing her hand from Rachel's thigh become the scene of the year or somehow appear on the cover of TIME magazine even if they were in the middle of a global apocalypse. She was so caught up in racking her brain for anything to do, that she didn't realize Rachel had already taken her hand in her own.

"Quinn are you alright? You're kinda sweaty here… and you look really pale!"

Quinn sucked in as much air as she could, eyes shooting wider than they had possibly every gone. What she said next seemed to come out as a wheeze rather than coherent words.

"Yeah I'm totally fine it's just kinda hot in this car but we're almost home anyway so I think I just need to have a drink of water or something and it'll be okay."

"Umm… alright then." Rachel said, narrowing her eyes. Again she reclined in her seat, holding Quinn's hand in both of hers.

Now Quinn was fully unsure with herself. Was it just Rachel's tendency to be overly physically affectionate? Was it that that was making Quinn behave this way? She had no idea what her heart and her mind wanted anymore. Though she was pretty sure she knew what her body wanted, as demonstrated just now. It was getting increasingly more… confusing.

"You know what? We should really go find some more CDs to sing along to in the car! Maybe we can find the soundtrack to Funny Girl! Gosh that would so amazing! And Quinn, you are a really good singer – I could teach you the duet parts for Wicked songs!" Rachel was bouncing up in down in her seat, shaking Quinn's entire arm off as she enthused about holding musicals in the car.

"Rachel, I'm pretty sure my rendition of Defying Gravity or What Is This Feeling would be frowned upon by our zombie neighbours. They may decide to shut me up permanently somehow. Or maybe, my singing will be so breathtakingly awe-inspiring that they'll all just drop dead from the sound of my angelic voice!" Quinn said cynically as she turned onto their street.

"I'm laughing so hard." Rachel retorted bluntly. "I mean it Quinn. You're an amazing singer and if no one told you during high school then I'm telling you now. We could do it! We could be the best Elphaba and Glinda in the post-apocalyptic revival of Wicked!"

"To call you an idealist is probably the understatement of the year."

Rachel glared at Quinn, speaking in mock arrogance. "You'll see. We can hold auditions. I'm sure hundreds will turn up to play the role."

"Yeah! Who knows, maybe a zombiefied Idina Menzel will show up in the queue!" Quinn joked, pulling up into the driveway. Rachel swatted a hand at Quinn's arm.

"Maybe I'll just ask Santana to sing with me. I'm sure she'd be up for it."

"I'm sure she would just love to join you."

They passed by the Santana's Ferrari as they parked in the driveway. Quinn rolled her eyes, Santana accused her of attracting more zombies, but what attracted zombies better than a massive, bright red Ferrari parked right in the middle of the lawn?

"Better yet maybe you should ask to drive Santana's car."

"She wouldn't let me close enough to smell the paint job!" Rachel complained as they got out of the Cadillac. The day was already sweltering and it wasn't even ten yet. Quinn's white tank hugged her body as she opened the trunk, and Rachel caught herself staring a little too long.

"What?" Quinn asked, noticing Rachel's strange expression.

Rachel tore her eyes from Quinn's face and clumsily grabbed a crate from the trunk. "Nothing."

Who couldn't resist staring? After all, it was Quinn she was looking at. Quinn the cheerleader, Quinn the symbol of perfection. Yet she herself didn't know how beautiful she was, and Rachel only wanted her to see that.

"Uh, you go ahead first, I'm gonna check things up here for a second."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, yeah I… uh… just gotta see if the house isn't falling apart. You know, maintenance…"

"Okay, see you inside." Rachel turned to leave. As soon as she was out of site, Quinn groaned aloud, and kicked on her the Cadillac's bumper. She kicked and kicked and kicked until a visible dent formed on the silver plate. By then a layer of sweat had wrapped itself around Quinn's body, and she gritted her teeth in frustration, slamming a hand on the car. Whatever the hell was happening to her needed to be solved soon.

Rachel sat on the couch with her knees tucked up to her face; a look of mortification on her face. She looked up suddenly as Quinn appeared at the bottom of the steps, holding the food crates and looking well… steamy…

Quinn looked around, still in bafflement over what had happened in the car.

"Where's Brittany and Santana?"

Rachel was silent; her eyes went from Quinn, to the bathroom door. Quinn glanced at it suspiciously. She dropped her cargo on the carpet and went up to the bathroom, placing her ear near its door.

Quinn's face turned cherry red. She clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms as she stood stock-still. Her jaw fell onto the floor, and then into the ground, and then into the Earth's mantle. Oh no they didn't.

"REALLY? REALLY? NOT IN THE SHOWER YOU GUYS. GET OUT. NOW!"

Rachel flinched, tucking her knees further into her chest. From inside the bathroom Quinn made out an orchestra of moans and giggles coming from the shower. And was Santana muttering in Spanish? Quinn groaned again, burying her head in her hands.

"And you're using up all the shower water! You don't know how hard it is to get that!" She pounded on the door with her fists, only eliciting louder giggles from the girls inside. "Ugh! Get out now!"

Quinn whirled around, exasperated. Fucking bitches!

Then she noticed Rachel, hiding behind her knees, also trying to hide her fairly obvious blush. They looked at each other in shock, Rachel looking slightly abashed. Underneath that look Quinn wondered whether Rachel wondered about what Quinn was wondering about… what.

"Um… I- I- um…"

Rachel sucked in her lips, it appeared like she was trying to contain another round of word vomit as she grasped tighter and tighter onto her legs. Brittany's giggles and Santana's slurs and moans and Spanish garble seemed to become louder and louder until the entire basement thundered with the noise of what was most definitely shower sex. And instantly Quinn realized. The room stank of sex. The room was still dim, filled with the musky, humid smell of sweat and clothes. What on Earth had Brittany and Santana done in here? And for how long?

Quinn seethed. Yes she had a feeling her two friends would be gettin' it on one way or another. Four years of high school life had already told her what to expect from them. But she never would've predicted just how angry she was now, how ferociously her blood boiled and her mind reeled at the simple sound of their lovemaking. Another wave of red overtook her face as she bent over, violently sweeping up her friends' clothes strewn all over the basement floor. She didn't want to admit it was jealousy she was feeling now.

Rachel stared at Quinn with trepidation as she furiously picked up Santana's underwear. She looked on in hesitance; every sound that came from the bathroom causing her to clench herself tighter and tighter. Should she say something? From the look on Quinn's face, Rachel knew saying anything would probably illicit an explosion of some kind. Rachel swore she could see the fumes erupting from her blonde head, not to mention how red her face was turning. So Rachel sat curled up on the couch, grinding her teeth and trying to become as unnoticeable as possible.

A moment later the door slammed wide open, steam immediately bursting through the doorway. Two smiling girls stepped out of the bright room wrapped up in towels, looking very satisfied with themselves. Or each other. Rachel threw her eyes to the floor at once, suddenly finding it extremely interesting as she attempted to look nonchalant about the whole thing.

Quinn whirled around with the all the purpose and rage of a tornado and threw the pile of clothes at Santana's feet.

"What the hell!"

Santana's smile faded and she rolled her eyes, glaring up at Quinn as if she were preparing for a boxing match. Now for the aftermath.

"I shouldn't even be surprised. Who the hell do you think you are? You have a lot of nerve showing up here, claiming that I know absolutely nothing about living in this fucking dismal world, yet you two ditzy idiots think its acceptable to use all the water that took months – long, hard months to collect!" Quinn waved her hands in the air, almost hitting the two girls in front her. "How the fuck do you two live? How the hell can you just step in the shower and do your fucking business without thinking about this stuff?" She spat in their faces, trembling with pure anger.

Santana took a breath, smiled calmly and drilled her gaze right into Quinn's fiery hazel eyes. "Sounds like someone's got a green-eyed monster following her around…"

Quinn glared so hard at Santana that Brittany swore her eyeballs would fall out soon.

"This isn't about-"

"Oh – so its about shower water?" Santana smirked with venom. "Please, Quinn. You are so easy to read. I think you've lost your touch."

Quinn continued to stare at Santana defiantly, slowly succumbing to the unpleasant truth of Santana's words, yet she would never in a million years admit Santana was right. Santana had already won over though, and she knew it. Her dark, sultry eyes shot over to Rachel. God, she was so vulnerable. Perfect.

"What about you Rachel? Are you as sexually frustrated as this blonde specimen over here? You can actually see her quivering on the spot, longing for someone to touch." Santana leered, running two fingers down the length of Brittany's arm. She sucked her lower lid to her teeth, boring holes into Rachel with her seducing gaze.

Rachel swallowed, trying hard to break eye contact with Santana. She knew where this was going, and it wasn't going to be a fun ride. Opposite Santana, Quinn didn't turn around; she didn't budge, afraid to see the look on Rachel's face, whatever expression she had on. Santana was singlehandedly bringing the awkward party into the house. Why was it suddenly so much hotter in here? Quinn crossed her arms, wiping the sweat on her palms onto her arms. The lump on her throat grew bigger and bigger as she waited for what Santana would say next, knowing that it would probably destroy her.

Santana snickered, eyes shooting back to Quinn. "So Berry, ever set your eyes on Quinn here? I know there isn't much of a catalogue for selection, but just look at her – this hot blonde mess. Ever just wanted to run your man hands all over her naked, ravishing, wet body?" Santana turned to grin at Brittany, who was also wearing a slight blush. The girl giggled in delight. "Ever just wanted to grab her golden hair tight as she went down on you, making you writhe and shiver with sheer pleasure…"

"Stop. Please stop." Quinn whispered hoarsely, quiet enough so only Santana could hear. Her eyes were pleading; behind them images of Rachel flashed through her mind – she could no longer stop herself anymore.

Santana only smiled wider. She turned to Rachel again. "You need to loosen up; unwind. I can see it your eyes – how desperate you are to just… release…" Santana whispered the last word, licking her lips with satisfaction.

There was a long, steamy silence. Vapour continued to escape the bathroom, surrounding Brittany and Santana in a cloud of moisture. Rachel tried to keep her breathing steady, to show she wasn't being affected at all by Santana's lusty words, when in fact, she was melting inside. How on Earth was Rachel going to put up with her? She didn't know. She just held on to her legs for dear life, swallowing the saliva in her mouth with real effort.

Another moment passed and Santana sighed. "Jeez, you two are so wound up you're torturing yourselves. I don't know how you stand it. C'mon Britt let's find some clothes. You don't mind if we look through yours Quinn do you? No? Okay thanks."

Without allowing Quinn to respond Brittany grabbed Santana's hand and they turned the corner of the basement to sift through Quinn's belongings. Quinn continued to stand with her back to Rachel, shoulders slumped. She had no idea how she was going to untangle themselves out of this awkward mess. Best to just play it cool.

Slowly she turned her head towards Rachel, petrified of what expression she had on. When she met her eyes, peeking out from over her knees, every muscle in her body sighed in relief. Rachel was smiling at her, every so slightly, still with a considerable blush on her face. Quinn gradually grinned back at her, cracking up a little at the idiocy of themselves. Rachel slowly joined in, until they were both laughing ridiculously at what had just happened. It was so preposterous! Of course Santana was only joking! The whole idea of it was insane! Right? Rachel was laughing so hard that the couch was shaking and Quinn was so unstable she had to bend over to hold her stomach. Anyone watching would've noted the hint of self-consciousness.

"Berry, quit yowling! You sound like a dying seagull giving birth!" Santana bellowed from the around the corner.

"You know Rachel I think it's time to permanently remove those stitches." Quinn declared as she brought over a tray of food.

Brittany eyed the tray hungrily, taking most of it off before Quinn had even set it down on the floor. Rachel was beaming, excited at the prospect of not being chained by her injuries anymore.

"How soon can we take them off?" Rachel demanded, bouncing up and down.

Quinn chuckled. "Soon. Very soon. Depends on how much more Santana intends on annoying me today."

Santana shot her a look, rolling her eyes. She looked at the tray of food with slight contempt, acknowledging the lack of variety. Nuts, nuts and more nuts. This was not going to become a routine.

"Quinn, ever tried hunting?"

Quinn looked up from her handful of peanuts, confused. "Hunting?"

"Yeah… you know… pursuing and killing an animal for food?" She spoke condescendingly.

"Yes, I know what hunting is San. Just never tried it. And there's no need to, there's still food to be found here in Lima!"

"Ugh, yeah it looks like a real five star meal you got there Quinn." She said, pointing at Quinn's hands.

Rachel glared at Santana. "I can't believe you condone such a gruesome activity! Don't you feel any remorse for the animals you slaughter? How can you just kill them without a second thought? I wonder how many poor, helpless creatures you've maimed and butchered!"

Santana scowled. "And I can't believe you're foolish enough to maintain your ridiculous vegan diet. It's not like it matters anymore! Don't think there's anyone left at the PETA headquarters to preach about how animals have souls!" She spat, grabbing a handful of pistachios from the tray.

"Enough fighting!" Brittany squealed, placing her hands over her ears.

"Brittany's right. Santana, you need to cool it. All this arguing over nothing is draining all our energy." Quinn said.

Santana leaned back on to her hands. "Whatever, fine. But as soon as we have a chance to get out, we're going hunting."

They sat there chewing in silence; Brittany spelling out her name with her almonds.

"Two 't's, Britt." Santana reminded, passing her a few of her uneaten nuts.

"Oh."

Quinn rocked back and forth, eager to keep Santana from re-entering bitch mode, maybe for at least five minutes.

"So… you guys gonna tell us what happened when you left Lima? I've always wondered what the hell happened in Fort Wayne. Seemed like it was chaos, if I can remember correctly. I can't believe it was freaking two years ago."

Brittany and Santana looked at each other with doubt, silently debating whether they wanted to explain what happened. Quinn looked on enthusiastically, leaning forward when Brittany nodded.

"It was a fucking maelstrom, Fort Wayne," Santana began. "There were hoards of people streaming in, and you could just tell from the look on everyone's faces that shit was about to go down. Pretty much as soon as we got there you could already see sick people walking the streets. And looking back, I think you two were lucky you stayed in Lima. Everyone coming in from Ohio thought they were safe. They couldn't have been more wrong." Santana thought back, eyes focusing on the little duck Brittany had made with her nuts.

Rachel, suddenly intrigued, placed her head in her palms and moved to lie on her stomach.

"Go on."

Two and half years ago, December 6th 2011

The night was shaded in a morose grey colour as the Lopez and Pierce cars pulled into Fort Wayne. The line of traffic was agonizingly slow; each car moving only a couple metres every minute. Much to Santana's disappointment, her parents hadn't allowed her to travel with the Pierces, so she sat there staring out the window, sulking. Every few minutes she'd look out the back of the car to make sure Brittany's care hadn't fallen behind. No matter what happened she vowed never to lose Brittany. If she did, then…

"Finally!" Her father exclaimed, stepping on the gas pedal. "Traffic's finally cleared." He was still wearing his white doctor's coat, having raced home to sweep up his family and take to the freeway.

Not much else was said. Her parents were too nervous and looked too grim for a normal conversation. But what could you expect. Everyone arriving in Indiana was tense; you could see the faces of strangers in the other cars looking anxious and panicked. Santana was one of them, her brow was permanently furrowed, and every hour that passed caused to her to become increasingly agitated. Without Brittany by her side to calm her, she allowed herself to settle into a constant, cold sweat.

Eventually they reached the inner city, but the sight wasn't comforting. People were rushing about, pushing each other over. Santana's eyes caught dozens of people already picking fights. She was sure there would be looting soon. Masses of civilians were crammed into the stores; people were shoving there way in and out with bags and boxes full of items. She wondered whether they'd all been stolen or bought. It didn't matter. It looked like the riots would start any minute now.

"Lock your doors mija," her mother instructed, voice shaking slightly.

Santana obeyed quickly, before turning to see if Brittany's car was still behind theirs. Her heart stopped beating when she noticed it wasn't. She felt her body go hot, instantly feeling claustrophobic.

"Dad, Brittany's car is gone." She stated rapidly, trying to sound as calm as possible. It wasn't working, and she gripped the leather of her seat hard. She couldn't lose Brittany.

Neither one of her parents answered. Had they even heard her? Santana spoke again, but she was met with a pleading look from her father in the rear view mirror. A look that said there was nothing to be done. Santana knew her dad would not stop for Brittany, especially since there was ongoing chaos transpiring right outside their car. Instead of prying, she kept her mouth shut, promising herself that she'd find Brittany later.

The plan was to get to the airport and fly to the west coast, or anywhere, really. Though from the look of the place Santana guessed that finding a seat on any flight to anywhere was going to be particularly difficult. Every car seemed to be heading in the same direction, like a mass exodus that would most likely end in turmoil. None of them even knew if all flights had been cancelled yet, to prevent the virus spreading. It was a hugely demoralizing thought.

Several minutes passed; Santana fidgeted and bounced her legs up and down, lost in her apprehension. She called Quinn to see if her family were in Fort Wayne. To her dismay, she was still stuck in Lima. The call didn't last long. The line broke and Santana told herself she had to move on. Hopefully she'd see Brittany at the airport. Hopefully she'd be able to convince two sets of parents to fly on the same plane to the same destination. The chances of both happening were dismally low. But she clung to hope desperately, knowing full well what lengths she'd go to ensure she and Brittany would be together no matter what happened tonight.

An hour passed and finally they saw themselves approaching Fort Wayne International. From a distance Santana could already make out swarms of people rushing about inside. The situation continued to look gloomy as they parked. Everyone was running. When Santana stepped out of the car she could already see other people looting the vehicles in the surrounding area. Her mother grabbed her arm, and the sped off running towards the airport entrance.

Inside was the worst scene Santana had ever been in the middle of. There was barely any order being maintained. People were literally climbing over one another to secure their place on a flight. They didn't care where, just as long as it was away from here. Santana's father led them through a winding mass of people who were fighting and screaming and yelling at each other; a couple of times Santana stumbled to make sure she wouldn't get caught up in a maul. Where were the guards? Her blood ran cold at the thought of them shooting people at random.

Santana's father was yelling something to her, but she couldn't hear – the uproar was too loud to comprehend anything. The Lopez family found themselves in a queue – albeit a disintegrating one – and in a flash her father had disappeared.

"Where's dad gone!" Santana shouted, trying to be heard over the commotion.

"He's gone to see if there's any more flights!"

Any more flights? At this point they'd be considered lucky to have even made it to the airport without being mugged! Santana huffed. They were wasting time. Of course there'd be no more flights, just look at the place! Frustrated, Santana looked around, glaring at the animals fight over tickets that would probably be rendered useless very soon.

As she stared at a man wrestling a small dweeb to the ground, she caught a glimpse of blonde hair bobbing up and down several metres away, in the middle of a massive crowd.

Brittany.

Against all rational thought she let her instincts guide her away from her parents and towards the beacon that had an extremely slim chance of actually being Brittany. She ignored all the voices in her head, screaming at her to turn around, to realize this was stupid and naïve. Thank God her mother hadn't noticed, so she was free to run directly into the jungle of bodies. Santana cried out Brittany's name over and over again, praying to whatever God above that it would be her. She thrashed and pushed people over, not caring about civility anymore. Shoving her way through, she finally arrived behind the girl with the blonde hair and grabbed her forcefully by the shoulder, twisting her around.

Santana's eyes crashed into piercing blue. It was her.

Immediately the blonde enveloped Santana into a hard embrace, eyes wide with shock. Santana wrapped her arms tight around Brittany's back, pledging to never let go again. They stood in the embrace for several long seconds, swaying and jerking as the crowd around them moved. Nothing mattered anymore, nothing but Brittany.

Brittany had lost her parents. So Santana did the only thing she could do. Quickly they made their way back towards her mother; clasping each other's wrists in a vice grip. When they arrived back at the 'queue', her parents were gone. But Santana had already expected this. She looked around frantically, scanning everywhere to make sure her parents were really missing. When she couldn't locate them she took a moment to register the fact; the fact that she'd most likely never see them again. Then she put on a mask of cold stone, deciding on one goal. She knew they had to get out of there quickly, and together. That was it.

By now there were people passed out on the floor, and blood was being spilled. It was obvious the flight schedule had been ruined, and that everyone here would have no chance of getting on a plane. Suddenly the heard gunshots being fired. That was their cue to vacate. People screamed, the crowd moving faster than ever. Brittany was holding onto Santana so tightly that the pain was excruciating; yet she relished in it, knowing at least that Brittany was still with her. Steadily they ran towards the exit. More gunshots fired, more screams erupted from one side of the check in hall.

Santana found herself running straight into a big, burly man; who flung his hands out in her face, pushing her to the hard, cold floor.

"Ugh! Fucking bastard!"

She cried out in pain, only really aware that she'd released Brittany's hand. Instantly she started getting up, and Brittany yanked at her arm as she stood. This time the blonde led the way through, dodging people with new agility and speed. Before they knew it they'd arrived at the main doors, only to meet dozens of more people trying to burst through the entrance at the same time. There wasn't any other option; Brittany and Santana plunged into the hoard of people, pushing them over if they had to. They fought their way to the other side of the crowd. Windows were being shattered, punches were being thrown, and neither of them could imagine it become any more chaotic than that.

They couldn't be more wrong. As soon as they surfaced from the crowd trying to enter the airport, they were blasted with a freezing winter gust, making them shiver violently. The night was now pitch black, as if to tell them they were doomed. Still Santana held onto Brittany, thinking up a game plan.

"C'mon, we have to get as far away as possible. As soon as every idiot in there realizes there won't be any more flights to board, they'll come swarming back out." Santana stated. And then they took off, with nothing but each other and the clothes on their backs.

It started to snow as they ran down the road away from the airport. Cars were still packed up one behind the other, with all the passengers inside unaware of what they would find when they reached the airport. Santana suddenly felt relief, knowing they had a head start. Within minutes their hands were ice cold and their legs ached in fatigue. When they finally reached the outskirts of the city they stopped for a moment, bent over their knees and panting like they'd just run a marathon. Their visible breath poured out of their mouths, like dragons that had no more fire to breathe.

Brittany noticed how badly Santana was shaking. She whipped off the red scarf around her neck and flung it around Santana.

"No, keep it."

Brittany didn't listen. She didn't know Santana was only shaking because of sheer terror. But Santana didn't say; she put on her strongest face for Brittany, and for herself.

"We need to find a car, San, or we'll freeze."

"Good idea."

They looked around; Santana spotted a small black Volvo nearby. Hesitantly she walked up to it, picking up a rock lying nearby. After looking around wearily she smashed the driver's window open. It shattered after two hits. They held their breaths, waiting for the alarm. Luckily there wasn't a sound. So she opened the door and immediately set to work on hot-wiring the car. Thank God Puck had shown her how to do this. It didn't take long until the car was in ignition. She unlocked the doors and Brittany hopped into the passenger seat. Then they were off.

Santana was well aware she was sitting on glass shards, not to mention how hard the wind was blowing into her face from the massive hole in the window. It didn't matter; she had other things to think about. What were they going to do? What were they supposed to do at a time like this? It wasn't as if there was a correct plan they could follow. She thought back to all the zombie apocalypse movies she and Britt had seen together. Was this really happening? Santana fought the overwhelming urge to breakdown and cry. Everything seemed hopeless when they didn't have a clue what they were doing.

They found themselves driving back into the city. Brittany turned on the radio to try and uncover what the hell was going on. Everything being announced put the girls in a new state of dejection. More states had been quarantined. There were riots and looting in every major city. All transport networks had been disabled. The airports had closed.

This meant that very soon the thousands of people swarming around Fort Wayne International would soon have to disperse. And Santana was pretty sure most of them would come here. She increased pressure on the gas pedal, instinctively trying to get away as fast as possible. By now the city of Fort Wayne was a burning mess. Every store was being raided, every window had been shattered and street fires were breaking out all over the place. People were fighting people, the girls caught glimpses of knives being unsheathed and guns being uncovered. The sight froze their skin like ice as they sped down the streets.

Santana turned a corner, where there was a fight with about ten people raging on the curb. Santana swerved to avoid them and almost ran over a tall boy stepping onto the road.

"What the fuck! Watch where you're going!" She snarled out her broken window. Suddenly her eyes went wide and she gaped at the boy she'd almost hit.

"Finn?"

As soon as she'd said it the attention of everyone was on her. Shit. Before she knew it the fight had continued, and the slightly surprised Finn was dragged back into the maul before being thrown to the floor. The strangers then advanced on Santana's car. She swivelled back round immediately to leave until she realized Brittany wasn't in her seat. Alarm bells rang in her ears as her heart rate burst through the roof, and at once, she was out of the car and engaging with the fight.

She was able to catch a quick glance at Brittany, who was swinging a baseball bat at a man's head. Santana didn't even have a second to wonder where on Earth Brittany had gotten it before she received a blow straight to the face, knocking her back a metre and sending her mind reeling. Completely stunned and her vision blurred, she was helpless, watching the figures of two men advance on her slowly. That was until she heard gunshots. Straightaway Santana felt defeat wash everything away. She dropped onto the floor, ready to die. Five more gunshots sounded and Santana twitched with every one, waiting for a bullet to enter her own skin. It never came.

With her palms on the cement Santana slowly regained her senses. All she could think about was Brittany now. Was she alive? Was she hurt? Where was she?

"Brittany."

Santana heard the sound of boots. She was still knelt on the floor when she saw the barrel of a shotgun in front of her, facing the ground. Slowly, Santana looked up; up a pair of dark blue jeans, up the length of a dark leather jacket, and straight into the face of one Noah Puckerman.

He stared grimly down at Santana before helping her to her feet. Immediately Santana's eyes searched for Brittany. She was standing next to her, looking utterly horrified with her baseball bat covered in dark red blood. Santana fell into her arms, more relieved than she'd ever felt before, completely ignoring the fact that Brittany had just killed someone for the first time, and that Puck must've just shot about seven people in one go. There were too many things going on for that fact to be even significant.

"Santana we don't have time for this now." Finn's voice came from behind.

The girls broke the hug and turned to face Puck and Finn.

"Thank you," Santana whispered to Puck. He merely nodded, looking stern and worried.

There was blood on his face, running down his jaws. Finn also had bruises on his neck and a nasty gash on his leg.

"I have to find Kurt." Finn declared. "We lost him just now when these guys tried to steal our shotgun. He's injured really badly and we have to get this antiseptic back to him." Finn held up his backpack with the supplies inside.

Santana raced through decisions and options in her mind. Was it wise to stay with Finn and Puck, considering they had no one else? It seemed like the obvious choice. However, Santana didn't have a say after all, as Brittany was leading them to the car.

"You guys can come with us in the car." Brittany offered.

No one hesitated. They made their way back to the Volvo, Santana reaching the driver's seat first. No one argued with her. They drove in the direction Finn instructed.

"You hotwired this thing didn't you," Puck asked craftily.

"Yep, sure did."

"That's my girl!" Puck allowed himself to grin, proud of himself.

Brittany turned around in the passenger's seat and narrowed her eyes at him as she waved the baseball bat.

"Ugh… I mean – that's your girl…" Puck corrected himself, flinching away.

Santana allowed a sly smile to creep onto her face for a moment. Other than that there wasn't any optimism at all. All the happiness had been sucked out of the four of them; even Brittany was now coming to terms with what she'd done just a few minutes ago. She looked down at her baseball bat, pondering just how she managed to go through with killing a person. The look on his face as she beat his head into pieces was still stuck to the back of her eyelids. Was she turning into a merciless killer? Brittany shuddered; knowing the memory of the man's tortured face would stay with her forever.

Santana seemed to sense this, and reached over, taking Brittany's cold hand in hers. There wasn't much more comfort to be given at a time like this.

"There." Finn pointed to an almost decimated seven eleven on the other side of the block. Santana sped up, thinking what a stupid place to hide in.

"We were attacked by a psycho, I'm not even kidding – he pounced on Kurt like he was insane. I've never seen anything like it. The guy was crazy! And, well, you can see for yourself what happened to him. The seven eleven was the closest place where we thought we could find bandages, so hopefully he's still there." Finn explained, his voice a little weaker than usual.

Santana slammed the breaks right outside the store in the middle of the road. The four of them raced through the broken automatic doors to get out of the cold; the lights had been smashed, making it hard to see. Santana noticed all the shelves had been cleared and there were various items scattered all over the floor. Blood stains dotted the place; she could tell there had been a massive fight in here of some kind. There was a small light glowing from one of the aisles and Finn directed the group over to it. Sure enough, there was Kurt, sitting with his back to a shelf and Blaine by his side. Brittany gasped. There was a bandage around Kurt's right eye, but you could tell it wasn't doing much, since blood still seeped through. The bandage soaked it up so that it wasn't even white anymore, but rather it was stained a dark red, and even more blood was pouring down one side of Kurt's grime covered face. From the sight of it, this 'mad man' had mutilated his eye irreparably.

"Brittany, Santana." He acknowledged them with a forced sense of surprise, not bothering to look at them.

Blaine grabbed Finn's backpack, not caring that the girls were now part of the company. He spilled the contents of the bag onto the floor in a frenzy.

"It's gonna be okay Kurt." His voice trembled as he began to lift Kurt's useless bandage off of his eye. Santana had never seen Blaine so terrified.

Brittany turned away, along with the other boys. Kurt didn't say a word. He simply sat there in total desolation, like he'd completely given up on life. His one good eye was lifeless, staring down at the floor as his hands clenched, fighting to tolerate the pain. Finn grabbed the lamp from the floor and held it up so Blaine could inspect the horror of the wound.

Santana swallowed audibly as she looked at it. The area around it was so swollen that the eye was barely visible. Blood was falling out from wounds she couldn't even see, and there was a cut was so deep above the eye that she could see the muscles protruding out; pink tissue unfolding as Blaine removed the bandage. Kurt simply winced, keeping his good eye to the floor.

"Kurt, who did this to you?" Santana asked, disgusted.

"It was just an ordinary man. Rather he was some insane lunatic who just decided he wanted to attack me. He was crazy, over his mind crazy." Kurt muttered with venom. "It seemed like he wasn't himself, he seemed extremely pale, like he was sick. I remember his eyes though, his eyes screamed like he wanted to eat me, or something worse."

"Shh, just hold on for a second Kurt." Blaine whispered as he applied a cloth to Kurt's face. It stung worse than a dozen bees stinging at once, and felt like his face was slowly burning off. Everyone would've expected him to be screaming in agony, but Kurt was silent except for a few hitches in his breath, or an occasional grimace.

"How did he do that to your eye?" Santana inquired further, slowly sinking in cold fear. If the man had just randomly attacked him with no reason, then who knew how many others would do the same to her?

Kurt sighed when the cloth was removed. Blaine put a hand on Kurt's knee in sympathy.

"He kind of fell on top of me, the man. But not before he put a knife to this." Kurt gestured to his wound. Blood was now dripping from his jaw line onto his blue- buttoned shirt. "Thanks to Puck he's now lying in some ditch." Puck swung his gun a little.

Santana pursed her lips, confused by Kurt's description. It seemed all too 'gory horror movie' to be realistic. Puck looked at her with a similar expression. He gestured with his head towards the end of the aisle. Santana nodded, understanding what he wanted. The two of them walked away, leaving Brittany and Finn to help with Kurt's wound.

Puck and Santana stood by the entrance, looking at the ominously empty dark street outside. The only light came from the blazing buildings in the distance, and a cold wind seeped through the cracks of the doors, forcing Santana to feel the hairs on her neck rise.

"What Kurt was saying-"

"Yeah it sounds totally whack but believe me it's real. That's not the only thing though." Puck interrupted.

"Well what the hell is it?"

Puck moved his head closer to Santana's ear, lowering his voice to a whisper. "They're turning."

Santana staggered back and stared at Puck like he had gone insane too. "What the fuck are you on about."

The corners of Puck's mouth turned upwards ever so slightly. "Zombies."

Santana glared at Puck, fully astounded. "You've got to be kidding me. This is why you brought me here? To tell me a whole bunch of sick bullshit?"

"I'm not kidding you. I swear. And if they're not zombies then they're certainly acting like them anyway. You should've seen it San, the guy just looked like he wanted to rip Kurt's face off! And he would've if it weren't for this!" Puck lifted his shotgun.

"I hope someone eats your mohawk off, Puckerman!" Santana started to head back to Kurt.

Puck grabbed her arm, pulling her back. "See for yourself."

Santana felt her blood turn to ice. Slowly she turned around, facing the black street outside. At first all she saw were three people standing still.

Wait.

Three people. Standing still. Statue still. Santana formulated the situation in her mind, coming to terms with what she was actually seeing. She glared at Puck, then back at the people on the street, then back at Puck. He raised his blood stained shirt, taking out a pistol that was in the back of his jeans. Santana stared in dread at the three 'people' in front her as they eerily turned in unison to face the seven eleven.

All three of them had big, black marbles for eyes that stared hungrily at Puck and Santana. It was like their souls had escaped them, leaving their heads hollow and dark. They were all extremely pale, as if all the blood had been drained from their systems. Santana was still unable to believe what she was seeing, even when one of them let out a dog's growl, even when all three of them began advancing towards the store at once. Santana just gaped in horror, feet rooted to the spot as she felt the blood drain from her own face.

Puck didn't hesitate. He smacked Santana on the back and suddenly she was awake.

"Are you ready to kill your first zombie?" He asked like it was fun, thrusting his pistol towards her.

Santana swallowed, accepting Puck's words as truth. It was insane. It was incredulous. But right now, Santana pushed her feelings aside, just as she had done for the entire night so far. She snatched the gun from Puck's outstretched hand, nodding in earnest.

"Let's do this."

My longest chapter yet! Hope you guys enjoyed the Santana version of the story, with her Pucktana BrOTP. I couldn't be bothered to proof read, so if you find any mistakes then I apologize again. Please review! I promise the next few chapters will hold some intense faberry development.

Glee in four days! It'd better be worth the wait, or ELSE...

:(