Fic: The Well Behaved (Part 3)

[katy_moon_beam]

XxX

The next morning is painful, literally and figuratively. Mike hauls himself out of bed with a curse - his shoulder and ribs seem to have stiffened up overnight - and dresses slowly and carefully. Tying his sneakers is enough to make him break into a sweat.

His mother, taking pity on him, lets him collapse into one of the kitchen chairs while she makes him his morning oatmeal, and then drives him to school, dropping him off with a perfunctory kiss to the cheek and the simple words: " No more trouble Michael."

He spends the first fifteen minutes of the day in Figgins' office, being berated for his behaviour, but Figgins stays on his side of the desk and watches Mike warily, all the while fiddling with a beaded rosary. Mike just nods his head at the right moments and somehow manages to get off with a week of detentions instead of expulsion. He can barely breathe with relief and thanks God for his unblemished record up to this point.

Mike's barely left the office when it occurs to him that people are giving him a wide berth. Some of the less popular kids - including Jacob Ben-Israel - actually press themselves up against the lockers when they see him coming, and cower. It makes Mike feel terrible, and he hunches his shoulders, wanting to make himself small, wanting to make himself invisible.

He realises, however, that his plan hasn't worked when he hears his name being yelped with excitement. The next thing he knows, there's a flurry of blonde hair and red-and-white uniform, and he's tangled in a hug, long bare legs wrapped around his waist and arms around his neck. Cherry lips press against his cheek and Mike tries not to curse out loud as his shoulder and ribs scream.

Luckily, Santana is running up behind her - cheek beginning to scab and bruise - and peels Brittany off gently. " Brit, no."

Brittany looks confused for a moment as she steps back, but Santana just rubs her arm. " I think Mike's still a little sore from yesterday." Mike watches as Brittany nods, her ponytail swishing around her shoulders.

She hugs him again, desperately but gently. " I was scared," she admits, and he feels terrible because he can see the tears burbling at the corners of her eyes. " I didn't even know your hands could DO hitting… it didn't even look like you." She wipes at her eyes with the back of her wrist, the other hand fingering the collar of his plaid shirt. " You *can't* be bad Mike, you *can't*. Because if you go off to Juvie like Puck then who's going to teach me how to find the space inside the circle? I can't even remember the song…"

She hiccups a sob, and Mike freezes. Santana just watches her with sad eyes, sympathy written all over her face. She reaches out a hand and brushes Brittany's elbow. " Brittany - " she whispers, but there's something about the breaking of the silence that spurs Mike into action.

Reaching out, he grabs Brittany, pulling her towards him. " Come here." Carefully, he wraps his arms around her again, and sings the song into her ear. " Fiddle de dum, fiddle de dee, the ring round the moon is pi times d. If the hole you want repaired, the formula is pi r squared." He pulls back from her just enough to see the watery smile break over her face, and he wipes away her tears with the pad of his thumb. " I'm not going anywhere Brit, I promise. I mean, I've got detention all this week but… please don't think I'm bad now."

There's pleading in his tone and Santana tangles her fingers with Brittany's, tugging gently. " Someone messed with his girl B. If it was you, I would have bounced that guy's head off the floor too."

Mike and Santana share an understanding smile as Brittany nods her head, pushing a loose tendril of hair back from her face.

" To be fair, I think you got a couple good licks in as it was," Mike murmurs softly, allowing the two girls to loop their arms through his, one on either side.

Santana pats his bicep. " No one messes with us, okay? I'm the only one allowed to make your life hell."

As they escort him through the hall, he suddenly doesn't feel so bad that the other students won't meet his eye. He has everything he needs.

XxX

By the end of the day and Glee rehearsal, Mike's fading. He has to stop on his way, pulling out a packet of pills, swallowing two of them and chasing them down with water from his bag before his body gets the energy to move again.

When he enters the choir room, everything falls silent, and he knows he's just been the topic of conversation. Sam looks up him with guilt fleeting across his face, watching as his friend gingerly shuffles towards one of the last empty chairs, in the corner of the room.

It’s strange, feeling their eyes on him, feeling himself as almost an island in the room, and it takes him a few minutes to figure out why. Other than a couple days here and there, like when Tina got strep and had to stay in bed for three days or the week he had to go back to San Francisco for his grandfather’s funeral, he’s not used to he and Tina not being in Glee together. And with everyone sneaking glances his way (and trying to pretend they aren’t) he feels her absence acutely. Unable to keep a scowl from his face, he stares at the floor, keeping his gaze from his teammates until the door opens and Mr Schuester finally steps in.

From the way his eyes go automatically to Mike, they all know he must have heard about the previous day’s happenings, despite his absence. Surprise registers on his face - at the cuts and bruises, the clear signs of how visceral and violent the fight had been - but he quickly swallows the look, instead clearing his voice, clapping his hands together, and dragging everyone’s attention to the front of the room.

For once - for probably the first time in Glee - Mike is immeasurably grateful that they don’t practice choreography. They look over sheet music and Mercedes and Rachel practice runs at the piano while Blaine accompanies them, laughing and adding his own voice. In the corner, Santana and Quinn help Brittany read the notes and the lyrics, and Artie, Sam and Puck sit in a triangle, picking on their guitars. At the front of the room, Mr Schue and Finn run through a harmony line for one of their contenders for Sectionals.

Mike’s wondering if anyone would notice him slipping out when he’s suddenly aware of a presence next to him; looking up from his music, he finds Kurt, who is fiddling with cuff of his sweater, looking unusually unsure of himself.

“ Can I sit down?”

It’s an unusual question, because this is the choir room, and they’re always moving about and - in Mike and Blaine’s case, especially - jumping on and off the furniture. There’s never been any sense of propriety or permission. But Mike just nods his head, “ Sure.”

Kurt takes the seat, crossing his legs, and for a long moment doesn’t say anything. He just looks across the room at Rachel and Mercedes, who are laughing hard, holding each other by the arms as Blaine croons a melody that Mike vaguely recognizes. Mike’s just beginning to relax - because maybe all Kurt wanted was a good vantage point to study his boyfriend - when the smaller boy clears his throat.

“ I want to thank you.”

It’s not what Mike is expecting, and he sits up straighter, despite his body’s protests. “ Thank me?”

Large blue eyes turn his way, and Mike is surprised to see Kurt looking serious, and sad in a way he hasn’t for months. “ You stood up for Tina. And I know you did it because… because you love her. But… I know how hard it is. To stand up to someone like that.”

Uneasy, Mike just shrugs. “ I’m not proud of myself. For hurting him. Scott.”

A small smile breaks over Kurt’s face, and he pats Mike’s knee. “ That’s what makes the fact that you did it okay.”

The sense of understanding, of vindication almost, prompts Mike to clear his voice. He glances briefly at Kurt before staring firmly down at his hands. His bandaged knuckles seem glaring and ungainly.

“ You know...there should have been someone there...for you. Then. Someone who would willingly get suspended because those assholes hurt you.”

He realizes just how vehement his words sound because when he dares a glance up, he sees Kurt’s face twist in something a little like embarrassment and a little like gratitude. “ They never gave me a concussion Mike,” he hedges, shrugging his shoulders, and Mike can feel him pulling back, folding himself away like he did during those months of Karofsky’s terror.

It prompts Mike to clench his fists, his words firm. “ That’s because you were lucky. And that doesn’t mean… What they did was just as bad. Worse.” He can hear his voice harden, and he remembers Kurt’s terrified, pale face and feels the guilt well up inside of himself. “ Someone should have stood up for you then. And…I’m sorry I didn’t.”

When he finishes speaking he finally looks up, and Kurt is staring at him, his mouth hanging slightly open, working silently, as though lost for words. Finally, Kurt just nods his head, and his fingers ghost Mike’s injured shoulder. “ Thank you,” he whispers. He shakes his head, just slightly, and shoots Mike an honest smile. “ You know Tina is a lucky girl.”

Mike feels a smile break over his lips for the first time that day. “ I know.”

They fall into comfortable silence, watching the others around them, until Blaine seems to get over-excited in his playing and jumps up first so he’s standing on the piano stool, and then climbs onto the lid of the piano. Rachel and Mercedes scream with laughter, and they watch as Mr Schue notices and rolls his eyes with a sigh. Blaine doesn’t seem to notice Schue’s unhappiness - instead he stretches his hand out to Quinn as she passes by, pulling her up onto the piano next to him - and she blushes but lets him spin her around and the other two girls grin and whoop.

“ Good Lord,” Kurt mutters, under his breath, covering his eyes with his hand, looking equal parts amused and embarrassed at his boyfriend’s antics. “ I should - ” Kurt waves his hand in the general direction of the piano. “ Before this gets out of hand and he starts swinging from the lights.”

Mike laughs, and nods, and Kurt has just pushed himself up from the chair when he stops, abruptly, as though just remembering something. He looks awkward for a moment.

“ Kurt?”

Kurt doesn’t answer, but just holds his hand out, gingerly, his fingers curled towards his palm. He looks at Mike expectantly.

Mike’s confused, and he sees Kurt falter for a second, before glancing over his shoulder. “ Puck…mentioned this was customary when having a ‘bro’ moment. Please don’t leave me hanging.” Mike follows Kurt’s gaze to where Puck is sitting, his guitar on his lap. Puck mimes bringing his fists together and Mike finally understands.

Lifting his own hand, he bumps his fist against Kurt’s, who looks pleased, and embarrassed, and a little proud. With a small smile, he shakes his head, “ Boys,” before heading towards the piano.

Across the room, Puck gives his own nod of acknowledgement, and when the bell rings and Mr Schue finally calls time on rehearsal, he’s the first guy holding out his own fist for a bumping. As though planned (and knowing the Glee club, Mike’s almost sure it is), each guy approaches him, arms outstretched. The girls look on with amused eye-rolls, but all find a moment to press their hands in his or their lips against his cheek.

When he leaves the room, Mike feels like he’s been re-built from the scraps of the man who entered.

XXX

Mike has detention after school, but he feels as though someone has been pulling strings for him (or listening to his prayers), because he gets to serve it with Coach Bieste and she leads him into her office without preamble or berating.

She stares, her arms folded across her broad chest. “ You know fighting isn’t the smart thing to do, right Chang?”

“ Yes Coach,” he replies, softly, looking down at his hands, feeling guilty, feeling pain lance through his fingers as he acknowledges the bandages.

Coach Bieste perches on her desk. “ And you won’t do it again, will you?”

He shakes his head, assuredly. “ No Coach.”

She stares at him for a long beat, and then pushes herself up off her desk and nods her head. “ Right, I have plays to plan. If I leave you here I can trust you not to make trouble can’t I?”

He nods his head, eyes wide. “ I…I have homework,” he offers quietly, indicating his backpack. He had imagined a punishment far worse. Potentially scrubbing the shower floors with a toothbrush. Or hand-washing jockstraps.

“ Get on it then,” is all she says before exiting the office, and Mike sighs with relief as he drops into her chair. He pulls out his World History notebook and begins reading the scrawl there, his eyes focused on the text.

He’s so intent on his work - feeling like if he’s going to serve a punishment he might as well make the time worth his while, and Charlemagne is pretty demanding - that he doesn’t hear Coach Bieste returning. “ Chang,” she prompts, looking almost amused at the sight of him up to his elbows in screwed up notes and abandoned pens. “ Time’s up, you’re a free man.”

Mike scrabbles, picking up his things, his body protesting as he stands up from the chair, hoisting his backpack to his shoulder.

Watching him gather his things together, Coach Bieste folds her arms across her chest. “ Tell your girl I hope she feels better. She’s a pretty spunky kid.”

Mike coughs a laugh, smothering it quickly, but when he catches Bieste’s eye, she’s smiling. “ I will,” he promises. “ Thanks Coach,” he adds softly, and he means for more than just her simple words. He’s pretty sure she knows that too, because she regards him with a small smile and a hand lands on his shoulder - just fleetingly - as he reaches the door.

XxX

He knows he should go home - his body is heavy and aching and in fair amounts of agony - but as he gets into his car, he finds himself driving the familiar route to Tina’s instead. She’s been texting him throughout the day, but words on a screen are not the same as seeing her face, and so he’s parked outside of her house in a matter of minutes.

Mrs Cohen-Chang doesn’t even look surprised to see him on the other side of the door when she opens it. She greets him with her familiar smile, tinged with amusement, and just cocks her head towards the stairs. “ She’s in her room,” she states without preamble. She ducks into the kitchen briefly, and returns, holding out a purple plate with a couple slices of toast sitting on top, freshly buttered. “ Could you get her to eat this please? She’s been refusing all day and the last thing we need is for her to pass out from hunger.”

Mike nods his head, taking the food, and bounding up the stairs two at a time. He knocks, gently, before pushing the door open. “ Tee?”

Huddled on her bed, blankets pushed down her legs and a book open in her lap, she looks fleetingly guilty for a second, but when she realizes it’s him she breaks into a smile. “ Mike,” she greets, tossing the covers aside, easing herself out of bed with a wince and stumbling towards him. He barely has time to set the plate down on her desk before her arms go around his neck, holding him tight, and even though it hurts, he folds her into his arms, breathing in the scent of her hair.

“ I missed you,” he whispers against her skin, running a thumb along her jaw-line, watching as her eyes crinkle in amusement.

“ In one day?”

“ Yes. You’re not allowed to be off any more, okay?”

He guides her towards the bed, Tina collapsing against the mattress with a groan. “ Believe me, I would rather have been at school. My Mom’s kept me a prisoner in my bed all day.” She presses a long kiss to his lips, careful of both of their poor, bruised faces. “ And if I’m going to be in bed all day, I’d rather not be on my own,” she grins. “ Feel like joining me?”

He nods his head, but reaches out, grabbing the plate from the desk. “ I will if you eat this. You Mom said you haven’t eaten all day?”

Rolling her eyes, Tina flops back against the pile of fluffed pillows. Her tank top creeps up her body, showing a sliver of skin at her stomach. “ I’m not hungry and suddenly she’s making a big deal?”

He holds a piece up, near her lips. “ It’ll make her feel better,” he prompts, waving it around. “ And it’ll make me feel better. Come on…open up for the airplane…” He makes engine noises, and she laughs, reaching out for the toast.

“ Fine,” she relents, taking the plate from him. “ If I eat it, will you stay?”

Her eyes are wide, and hopeful, and even if Mike had planned on leaving he knows he wouldn’t be able to say no to that face. Kicking off his shoes, he scoots up the bed, laying next to her and wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “ Course I will,” he promises, pulling her so their bodies are flush together. He takes a small bite of the toast she holds out for him. “ I’m not going anywhere Tina.”

She snuggles against him, munching her food, and he tells her a little about the day without her, about the classes that she missed, and all the messages her friends had sent for her. He hums her the song they were learning in Glee and they’re talking softly, eyelids growing heavy and heads pillowed on crooked arms when there’s a soft knock.

Groaning, Tina pushes herself up. “ I ate my toast Mom,” she calls out. “ And if we were having sex I would have shut the door.”

Mrs Cohen-Chang’s face peeks around the slightly open door and she smiles at the sight of the two of them rumpled and sleepy. “ Glad to hear it sweetie, but I was actually coming to tell you that you have visitors. Should I send them in?”

Tina’s curious, but she nods, and then a broad, bright smile breaks across her face as one brunette head and one blonde bursts through the door.

“ Santana! Brittany!” Tina greets them with an excited smile, as though she hasn’t seen them for months instead of just a day.

“ Hey Loser,” Santana greets, hugging her gently but firmly. “ You look like shit.” In her hand she holds a small cup with a bright green straw. “ Ice coffee,” she explains, thrusting it towards Tina and shrugging her shoulders. “ It’s Thursday. And I didn’t feel like skipping our coffee date just because your boyfriend had to do detention instead of math.”

Sipping the drink once - and ignoring how the ice gives her an instant and fairly painful brain-freeze - Tina grins brightly. “ Thank you.”

Brittany jumps on the balls of her feet, hugging Tina fast and fierce, pressing a kiss against her cheek. “ You need purple streaks in your hair,” she says, pulling back and fingering one of Tina’s loose curls. “ To match your eye.” She then seems to remember something, and reaches into her purse, pulling out a carefully folded sheet of blue construction paper. “ I made you a card!” she explains, almost needlessly, thrusting it towards Tina. “ To make you feel better.”

The front is covered with tissue paper flowers and artfully painted rainbows, and opening it, Tina recognises Brittany’s distinctive, careful penmanship: ‘I hope you feel better and your brain didn’t get squashed’.

“ We signed it with kisses,” Brittany smiles, looking between herself and Santana and pointing at the bottom of the page, where one pink and one scarlet set of lips are pressed against the paper in perfect SWAKs. “ The cherry one is mine.”

Mike’s reading over her shoulder, and Tina and he share a small smile. “ I love it,” Tina says honestly and pulls Mike with her as she scoots up the bed, making room for the two other girls to pile on next to them.

The covers rumple and float under their limbs as they settle. “ Are you okay, really?” Brittany asks, cocking her head so her ponytail flips over her shoulder. “ We were worried about you.”

Reaching out, Tina squeezes Brittany’s hand. “ I’m really okay Brit. Kind of a headache, but I’m fine. I’m just glad *somebody* didn’t get in more trouble.” She shoots a glare to Mike, but he just holds his hands up in submission before wrapping his arm around her.

“ I’d do it again,” he murmurs against her shoulder, kissing the skin left bare by the strap of her tank top.

“ You do, and that black eye will pale in comparison to the one I’ll give you.”

He barks a laugh, throwing his head back. “ Who says chivalry is dead?”

“ Mike. You almost killed someone. It’s the single most ridiculously stupid thing you’ve *ever* done. Ever. And that includes the month you tried to grow a beard. You think I would let anyone else get away with pulling that shit?”

“ Tina,” his voice is small, and somewhere between apologetic and soothing. He rakes a hand through his hair.

She just frowns at him, but doesn’t move away as he cups her cheek, feathering a kiss against her bandaged wound. “ Don’t…” she grumbles. “ I should be mad at you. And I’m mad at myself because I can’t help but find it horrifically romantic. And I’m not the kind of girl who needs saving.”

There’s a small smile on his face as he leans in and presses his lips against hers. “ I know you don’t,” he promises, pushing her hair behind her ears. “ You’re amazingly kick-ass. Even when you don’t really make any sense,” he teases.

Sticking her tongue out, she rolls her eyes. “ I blame the concussion.”

From the other end of the bed, a small voice pipes up. “ Sometimes people say I don’t make sense. Does that mean I have concussion?”

“ Brit, shhh. They’re having a moment.” Santana pats Brittany’s denim-clad knee, her other hand idly flicking through a magazine. “ We’re supposed to be quiet.”

Brittany watches as Tina and Mike whisper to each other, smiling and sharing light, short kisses. “ Like we have our moments?” she asks curiously, leaning into Santana’s warm body, watching as the dark haired girl nods her head.

“ Sort of. Just with more clothes on.”

“ Wait ‘til you leave.” Tina’s voice is suddenly loud, and amused, and as she and Brittany make eye contact she can help but wink. Mike shakes his head next to her, embarrassed, but squeezes her shoulders.

Santana laughs loudly, stretching her legs out in front of her with an exaggerated toe flex. “ Aren’t you supposed to be resting or something? Not getting your freak on?”

Shrugging, Tina leans against Mike’s strong chest. “ Eh, so I’ll let him be on top for a change.” She pats his leg affectionately. “ Think you’re up for that?”

Even though Santana and Brittany are laughing, hard, Mike just raises his eyebrows at her. “ You know I’m meant to be resting too? And I’m going to have to do *all* the hard work?” he teases.

Huffing, exaggeratedly, Tina tosses her hair behind her shoulders. “ Fine,” she agrees. She pouts her lips, almost pathetically, and opens her eyes wide. “ Brit? You think you could reach under the bed for me and get the big black book with the red writing?”

Nodding, Brittany barely waits a second before she leans across Mike’s lap, reaching under the bed. He has to grip the waistband of her jeans pants to keep her balanced.

“ Britbrit,” San laughs, her hand sneaking up the wiggling denim-clad calf. “ Don’t fall off.”

“ Ah ha!” Brittany’s body jerks, and then Mike is pulling her up, and Santana seems to just get her hands out in time for them all to collapse backwards in a big tangle. “ Found it,” Brittany grins, grasping a large black book in her arms. She holds it out to Tina, who takes it with a grin and flips the pages, and Santana’s eyes light up at the illustrations.

“ Karma Sutra?” she asks, surprised.

Tina just shrugs her shoulders. “ Should be something in here that Mike and I can enjoy without pulling anything.” Looking up, her eyes meets Santana’s curious, enthusiastic gaze. “ Want a look?” she asks, holding the book out, which Santana takes eagerly.

For a while they sit, the book between the four of them, turning the pages and throwing comments out.

“ Seriously, Tina, you've been holding out on me. I'm reconsidering our friendship." Santana’s eyes are wide and round, and as she flicks through the pages she looks suitably impressed. Turning the book upside-down, and then righting it, she tries to gain a purchase on the illustrated figures’ centre of gravity.

Rolling her eyes, Tina pokes Santana in the side, causing her to laugh and wriggle away, but instead of a rebuttal, Tina turns to her boyfriend. “ Think you could hold me up like that Mike?”

“ Sure, when my shoulder’s better… hey, have we tried this?”

Santana smirks. “ Ooh, feeling ambitious Chang? Or just try to impress me?”

She says it with a flirty wink, reaching over to grab Tina’s iced coffee from the nightstand, her red lips sucking on the straw in an exaggerated manner, and it makes Mike blush, just lightly. “ San.”

“ Trust me, Santana, he could impress you. I promise.” Tina pats Mike’s shoulder reassuringly.

“ Says the girl who fucks him on a daily basis.”

“ Yeah, and for good reason. Hey! What about that?”

“ Tee, last time we tried that you couldn’t wear heels for a week. Remember?”

Brittany’s voice is bright and honest. Her finger trails over one of the naked women sketched on the page. “ Santana likes it when I wear heels. Sometimes they’re all I wear.”

There’s a pause as they all look up from the book. Brittany’s legs are flung over Santana’s lap, Mike’s eyebrows rise, and Tina can’t help but chuckle behind her hand.

Santana just tosses her dark hair behind her shoulder. “ You blame me?” she shoots back, reaching over just enough to smack Mike on the thigh. “ Besides, like you two don’t get up to kinky shit. Or have you forgotten I’m your girlfriend’s go-to gossip partner?”

Mike has enough sense to duck his head at that, shooting Tina a glare, but she just breaks into another peel of giggles. “ What? I’m a girl. We like to talk. And besides, it’s not like you’re not sharing all of this with Sam anyways.”

“ Not the details!” he shoots back, almost scandalized. His voice soars higher than normal and he clears his throat. “ I don’t tell him like…what, or how. Just usually where…and that’s for his own good. He was really embarrassed when he walked in on us in the choir room.”

Remembering, Tina nods her head. “ He couldn’t look me in the eye for a week.”

“ Yeah… I think the fact he had to sit next to you for an hour with the fresh mental image of your lips around his bro’s co - ”

“ Santana!”

“ Tina!”

Santana throws her hands up, ignoring Tina’s part-scandalized, part-exasperated expression or the way Mike buries his head in the pillows. Brittany pats his hip, fondly, and he shifts around just enough that his face is pillowed in the soft material covering Tina’s thighs. “ She’s mean,” he mumbles into her hip. “ Do we have to be friends with her anymore?”

Tina strokes her fingers through his hair, all the way down the back of his neck, and it leaves him boneless and pliable, like a satisfied cat. He practically purrs as he curls his long legs up, and Tina can’t help but look down at him fondly. “ She gives us much needed badass points,” she grins, and Santana shoots her a thumbs up before returning her hands to their previous position, tracing abstract patterns on Brittany’s ankle as they peruse the book’s illustrations.

Tina can see Mike’s fading - she can feel herself fading as well, the slow, inexorable tug of sleep creeping upon her - and so is almost relieved when she hears her Mom’s voice once again at the door.

“ Kids?” Mrs Cohen-Chang peeks her head around, curls pulled up and secured in a bundle on the top of her head, her cheek blackened with a streak of charcoal. “ I hate to be a buzz-kill but I think maybe Tina needs her sleep.” It’s bad timing, but as she says it, Mike can’t help but be taken over with a huge yawn; he can hear is jaw crack in the quiet. When he covers his mouth, embarrassed, Mrs Cohen-Chang is looking at him with quiet amusement. “ Obviously Mike does too. Are you staying here tonight sweetie or heading home? I can call your Mom.”

Santana glances down at the book in her hands before shooting Mike a wicked grin. “ Oh, I think he’s probably staying Mrs Double-C,” she teases, leaping up from the bed and pulling Brittany with her. Slipping her feet back into her shoes, she lets the older woman wrap an arm around her shoulders. “ There’s been some discussion of them trying ‘page twenty-seven’.”

Mrs Cohen-Chang presses a kiss to Santana’s proffered cheek, and then to Brittany’s, and stands between the two girls as she studies her daughter. “ Page twenty-seven huh? Well, I hope Tina’s been saving. Last time they tried something that energetic she had to pay $300 for a new dining table.”

Santana breaks into laughter, Tina eye-rolls, and Mike just curls further up into a ball. Brittany tugs Santana’s hand. “ Can we get a book like that San? The pictures make it all much easier…”

A blush colours Santana’s face, just briefly, but then she lifts her chin up and kisses Brittany square on the mouth. “ We’ll look online,” she promises. Then, turning back towards her two friends on the bed, she raises her hand in salutation. “ Later Losers,” she grins, blowing Tina a kiss. “ Don’t do anything that’ll land you back in the ER.”

Brittany blows kisses too, and the two of them exit the room with Tina’s Mom. Mike and Tina can hear their giggles all the way down the stairs.

“ I hate them,” Mike murmurs, allowing Tina to pull off his t-shirt, dragging the material up and over his arms. He winces as it pulls his shoulder, but she kisses him softly.

“ You love them,” she corrects, concentrating hard - and squinting - as she undoes the button fly on his jeans. He wonders if her head is hurting more than she’ll admit. “ Believe me, I could tell you some things about their sex life…”

Mike actually whimpers. “ Tina, Brittany is like my sister.”

Amused, she helps him tug his jeans down his legs, leaving him in simple navy boxers. She lifts the blankets up, allowing him to slide his legs in next to hers. Lying down on the pillows, their foreheads almost touch and their breath mingles in the space between. “ That’s why I don’t tell you,” she murmurs, trailing a hand up his chest, to his bruised shoulder, and then up to feather along his cheekbone. The bruising there is dark and mottled. “ I should have talked to you.”

“ About what?” Mike roots into the pillows, his arm going around her waist, their legs intertwining.

Tina licks her lips, slowly. “ About Scott.”

“ Tina - ”

“ No, I should have told you that he was bothering me,” she continues, cutting him off, because she knows if she doesn’t say it now, she never will. “ I thought I could handle it by myself…”

Mike takes a pause, and a deep breath before answering. “ You shouldn’t have to.”

“ I know.” Tina can feel tears pooling at the edges of her eyes, and curses softly as she reaches up to brush them away. “ Why do I always cry?”

“ Because you care,” he murmurs, kissing the salty water from her eyelashes. “ Because he hurt you, and made you feel bad, and made you feel like you were all alone.” Following the path of the tears, he kisses her cheek, and the corner of her mouth, and then her lips. “ You’re not though, for the record.” He kisses her again. “ You’ve got me, and your parents, and - Lord help us - Santana all ready to go to bat for you. And you’ve got San, so you’ve got Brit, and hell, Puck would have broken his parole for you. And Sam swore in front of Coach Bieste - she made him run wind sprints for that you know?”

Tina can’t help but giggle. “ Really?”

“ Yep. But she also put him in as QB on Friday’s game, so I don’t think she’s too pissed. And Kurt told me that Mercedes sacrificed an Alexander McQueen scarf for you. I take it that’s a big deal?”

Tina nods, her fingers trailing over his torso. “ I should pay her back. They’re like $200.” Her voice is very small.

“ I don’t think she minded,” he assures her, his hands running up and down the skin of her back, under her tank. He can feel her muscles are tight and her body tense, so he leans down and kisses her shoulder. “ We’ll save up. Pay her back together.”

She nods then, snuggling up to him, her forehead finding the crook of his neck. “ We should buy something pretty for Sam too. It’s a little blurry…but I’m pretty sure he deserves it.”

They share a kiss, long but light, and even as he’s pulling away from her lips Mike can hear Tina’s breathing evening out. Her eyelashes flutter against her cheek. “ Love you Mike.”

“ Love you too Tina. Sweet dreams.”

XxX

The next day, they walk into school with their hands clasped together, matching black eyes worn on heads held high.

When he sees them, Puck can’t help but grin.

“ You two are, officially, the most badass couple in McKinley.”

Lauren quirks her lopsided grin at them. “ I have to agree, and since Puckerman and I were obviously the most badass couple here when we dated, I would consider this a unanimous vote.”

Puck tips an imaginary cap to them. “ We pass the torch,” he grins. “ Use it well my badass friends.”

Sharing grins, and squeezing each others' hands (and knowing that why they didn’t have the energy the night before, page twenty-seven had been a delightful way to start the morning), they absolutely feel it.

XxX

Part 1:http://mike-tina.livejournal.com/80711.html#cutid1
Part 2: http://mike-tina.livejournal.com/81096.html#cutid1