Trusting You to Catch Me - Chapter Two
Title: Trusting You to Catch Me
Author: Sio & Maura
Rating: NC-17
Length: 13,743
Spoilers: Everything up to On My Way and then deviating from there with minor Big Brother references.
Pairing: Santana/Quinn, Brittany/Santana/Quinn/Rachel friendship, mentions of Brittany/Santana, some Finn/Rachel (not positive)
Summary: Following her accident, Quinn experiences the gamut of emotion: denial to acceptance to healing and everything in between. But through it all are her friends patiently helping her with caring and friendship and maybe more.
Warnings (highlight to read): eating disorders, severe accident recovery, graphic sex, verbal abuse, minor violence, family issues, cheating, body image issues
Chapter 2
Brittany was sitting on the bench by the pond staring out at the water when Santana found her the next day. She wasn't feeding the ducks like she usually did, just sitting there with her legs tucked under the old wood and her fingers tight on the edge of the seat. She looked uncertain and worried - common expression for the girl, but not often associated with the duck pond.
The younger girl came over to the bench and slid her arms around Brittany's neck. "Hey, Brit-Brit." She smiled as she leaned into the warmth of her girlfriend's body. "I missed you."
Brittany hugged her back. "I missed you too." She bit her lip for a moment, looking at Santana out of the corner of her eye. "You're not still mad at me, are you? About the Bookface thing?"
Santana slipped around so she could sit next to her on the bench. She threaded their fingers together before leaning over and kissing Brittany softly. "No, I just wanted to see you."
"Okay," she agreed amiably. "You're really not mad? Cause you were totes unhappy when I wanted to make it say I was your girlfriend." She kicked her feet out from under the bench and dug the tip of one of her white sneakers into the dirt.
"Oh. That." Santana sighed, and looked down, "I thought you couldn't work your facebook, Brittany?" She asked, "Why did you change it? We had it on In a relationship." Santana looked at her girlfriend, not understanding why the blonde would try to publicly link their relationship.
"My sister said that you're supposed to do that," she shrugged. "She helped me update it. Then you got mad. Why'd you get mad? Aren't we girlfriends?"
"We are... I love you but you know I can't put it on the internet," she said softly as she held the other girl's hand tightly. "Brittany, I told you before... I can't have it on the internet."
"But it's just the internet," she swayed back and forth on the bench to her own beat. "It's just in the little boxes. It's not like it's important. You always say that stuff on the internet isn't a big deal. Or is just a bunch of shit anyway, like Jacob's blog."
"I know, baby," Santana said before she got up and slid onto Brittany's lap and straddled her. "You know it's my parents. They... they aren't happy that I'm... and they don't want everyone who's outside of Ohio to know... like our family members." She pushed Brittany's hair back.
"But everybody knows," Brittany frowned, looking up at Santana. "The pizza guy put it on TV. TV's like way worse than the internet. Everybody watches TV."
"But that was only in Ohio..." Santana swallowed, "I have family and shit in other places who don't know..." She pressed a light kiss to Brittany's lips, "Why can we just know we're taken and just be together?"
Brittany looked down, chewing on her lip and looking anxious. "I don't feel so good," she whispered. "My tummy's all fluttery..."
"What can I do?" She asked as she smoothed her hands down the girl's arms. "Sweet lady kisses?"
She shook her head. "I think I did something bad, Sanny," she whispered.
Santana's head snapped up and she narrowed her eyes. "W-what did... what did you do?"
"I... kind of, maybe," she fiddled with her fingers looking pale and unhappy, "slept with Artie," she finally got out, sounding tiny. "I just... I thought you were mad at me about the internet and that's why you've been with Q all the time and I was lonely and he helped me fix the internet and... and... I'm sorry..."
"You... had sex with... Artie." She choked out, her eyes stinging with tears. "I... I don't understand. You... you love me and I love you. Why would you have sex with him?"
"I don't know!" She looked like she wanted to cry. "You said it wasn't cheating if the plumbing was different! And... and he made me laugh and fixed the internet so you wouldn't be mad at me any more and helped me with my homework..."
Santana quickly rubbed her eyes to hide her tears. "But... I'm your girlfriend." she whispered, her entire face crumbling as her facade left.
"But no one can know," Brittany whispered, her shoulders slumping. "I can't be proud of you when you're super awesome and you get upset when I tell people..."
"I'm as out as I can be!" Santana exclaimed, "We hold hands and kiss and go on dates now! I'm doing that for you and to make sure you know how much I love you... but I can't be all over the internet. I can't be on Fondue for Two, I can't... You can't ask me for that."
"Why not?" she asked, pouting. "Am I not good enough? No one cares that you're gay, Sanny. Kurt's capital-G gay and that's okay. And you said your parents were cool with it..."
"They're not! We had to go to court to sue the people who outted me, Brittany. I embarrassed my family and they told me I can't go to college if I keep ruining our reputation!" she exclaimed as she slid onto the bench off her lover's legs. "I told you all of this..."
Brittany looked confused, "Then why'd you tell everyone in Glee they were cool? I don't understand..."
"Because they don't care either way." Santana sighed, "The Glee kids don't like me, Brittany. They only like me 'cause they like you."
"That's dumb," she pouted. "They should like you 'cause you're awesome. Rachie and Q like you. I think."
"Yeah," she said softly. "Brittany... please just be okay with this. I love you so much."
"I love you too," she whispered. "But I don't understand why I can't be proud to be your girlfriend..."
"You can..." she whispered, "I'm so proud of you all the time. I just don't want to be on your show."
"But my show's awesome," she pouted. "And you're going far away soon. Are you sure I can't come?"
"Baby... You have to stay at school and finish remember? We had that meeting with your parents and the bush-baby guidance counselor.... remember? You're staying back."
"But I wanna go with you, Sanny," she pouted. "We're always supposed to be together, remember?"
"I know," She leaned over and kissed Brittany. "I'll be here for you forever right? You know that."
"No, you won't," she pouted. "You're going away and leaving me alone."
"I'm gonna skype you everyday. You're my girlfriend... I'll love you even if I'm far away."
Brittany shook her head. "I don't want my girlfriend far away. I won't be able to cuddle or have sweet lady kisses... I don't want that."
"What... What does that mean?" She whispered and looked up at her.
Brittany licked her lips. "I... I don't think we should be girlfriends anymore." She shook her head, looking sad. "I can't not tell people, Sanny... it just bubbles out and I can't stop it. I'm not a good girlfriend..."
Santana looked down dejectedly, "You... want to break up?" She whispered, "After everything? After... after everything I dealt with? Now when it's okay? Is it because you cheated? Do you want to be with him again?"
"It's not okay. I still can't be with you like all the way," she pouted and fiddled with her fingers. "And the cheating was bad. I shouldn't do that. But he's sweet and I can't help myself. You deserve like... better and stuff."
"But... I love you." Santana whimpered, "I love you, I don't care if you cheat on me... just don't break up with me."
"I love you too," she whispered. "But Mom says girlfriends shouldn't cheat and they gotta love each other enough to not want anybody else ever. I want lots of people though. And... and you're with Q all the time these days."
"She's hurt! She needs someone to be there to help her!" She exclaimed, "You want lots of people...? Why can't I be enough?"
"Cause I won't be good when you go," Brittany admitted. "I like sex too much and I like being with people too much. And... I'm not smart like you, Sanny. I'm not going away from Lima like you."
Santana finally let the tears that were threatening to fall cascade down her cheek. "It's not fair." She cried softly, "It's not fair, Britt."
"Nothing's fair," Brittany shrugged, wrapping her arms around Santana and pulling her into a hug. "I'll always love you. You're my Sanny and my bestest best friend ever. But I just make you sad as your girlfriend cause I don't love you like I'm supposed to. I mess lots of stuff up."
The smaller girl rested her head in the crook of Brittany's neck and cried softly, "My life was ruined by that stupid video... I didn't want to come out. I just wanted to be with you."
"I know," she whispered, rubbing Santana's back. "I messed it all up. I'm sorry..."
"You didn't. I just love you." Santana whimpered and clung to her. "You'll still be my friend right?"
"Of course I will," she nodded. "You're my bestest best friend in the whole world. Don't be mad at me and not be my friend again please?"
Santana nodded and sat up and rubbed furiously at her eyes. "Can... Can I ask you a question?"
Brittany thought about it for a moment then shrugged. "Sure."
She wrung her hands and blinked, "Were you ever in love with me?"
"I," she thought about it, worrying at her lip. "I... don't know? Maybe? I don't think I know what that's like. Being in love. I know being with you makes me happy and I was super happy when we started being girlfriends. It just," she shrugged, "got all messy."
She nodded and took a shaky breath. "Okay." She rubbed her eyes again and stood up, "I... I need to go, okay? I... I'm not mad at you."
"Promise?" Brittany looked sad. "Promise you're not mad? I hated it when you were mad at me. I was sad all the time and couldn't feel better."
"I'm sad," she admitted as she scuffed her red Converse covered feet. "I'm really sad and I might need a few days away from you... but I'm not mad at you."
"Not forever right?" she looked sad at the prospect of being apart from her friend for a long time. "And can I visit Q soon? Mom says I should stay away so she can rest and Finn's all bloated baby about it."
"She's going home today. She would love to see you I bet." Santana forced a smiled at her friend, "And never forever okay? You're still my Brit-Brit."
She smiled. "Good. I'd be epic sad if I wasn't any more. Let me know when I can see Q, okay? I miss her lots and just wanna give her a huge hug and maybe a stuffed duck for company."
"Sounds good," She said softly "See ya later," Santana whispered as she tore herself away from her now ex-girlfriend. She wiped her eyes as the tears fell on her walk back to her car. Once she slid in she broke down in silent sobs.
Brittany watched her walk away sadly. She felt bad for hurting Santana by breaking up with her, but she knew she'd feel worse seeing how sad she got when she messed up. She knew she wasn't very bright like Quinn or Tina or Rachel, but she also knew Santana deserved a lot better than her as a girlfriend and hoped she'd find someone to make her happy again someday.
At the hospital, Quinn was getting strapped into her back brace by a nurse. She grunted softly in pain as the brace was tightened, but once it was on, she felt her muscles start to relax as the pressure they'd been under was taken by the rigid plastic and metal structure of the brace. She eyed the chair sitting by her bedside with trepidation as the nurse went away to give her time to get used to the brace in bed before helping her to the chair.
The doctor said she wouldn't be stuck in it forever. That her prognosis was good. The fact that she'd sort of felt the tip of his pen against the bottom of her foot earlier had bolstered her belief in that statement more than the young doctor could ever know. She clung to it and Santana's reassurances that she could still have a future with both hands.
Santana wiped her eyes and tried to gather herself as she drove over to the hospital. Quinn was going home today, and she knew that her mother would forget to come and pick her up. Santana didn't even want Quinn in the car with Judy, since she wasn't ever sure of the woman's sobriety. She parked outside the hospital and waited for any sign of Quinn or her mother.
Upstairs, Quinn reached for the phone Santana had snuck in for her the other day and tapped out a message to the one person she thought might want to hear from her. First day in a chair. Just staring at it now. I don't know how Artie does it.
Santana saw the text and got out of the car. She headed up to the room and stood in the doorway, "Looking good, Fabray."
"Shut up, I look like an idiot," she groused, trying to slide closer to the edge and reaching for the chair. "Did you see my mom? She's picking me up so I can go home."
Santana came over and grabbed the chair and locked it down before moving to reach for Quinn's things. "I'm taking you home. Your mom's Lexus is way too low for you to get into." She explained, "So, I'll drive you home in the CRV."
Quinn just lay in the bed unmoving for a moment before taking a deep breath and let it out slowly. "That's a lie. The nurses say it'd be easier for me to transfer into a low riding vehicle than a tall one with my legs not working yet. She didn't come at all, did she."
"Quinn," Santana sighed, "You know how she is... I... don't want her driving you even if she came," she said honestly as she pulled the duffle bag out and collected Quinn's personal items. "Come on, let's get you into the chair so we can leave. I'll get you a burger on the way home okay?"
"Ugh, just what I need. To get fat as well as crippled," she groused, trying to lever herself up into a seated position, but struggling with only one arm.
Santana walked over and carefully lowered her into the chair, "You okay?" She asked once she was seated. "You won't get fat. You didn't eat for nearly a week after the accident and you need to eat so don't give me that shit."
"I don't need to eat a greasebomb either," she growled, embarrassed with needing help so badly. "It's not like I can exercise or anything right now. I'll just feel gross."
"Okay. I'll make you some soup then." Santana sighed, "Plus, just think of the diesel ass arms you're gonna get and how skinny your thighs will be when you start to walk again." She smiled, "That's a perk right?"
Quinn looked appalled. "Santana, I do not want any part of me to look diesel! I may not associate with the same crowds you do, but even I know what sort of woman that term is typically applied to."
She rolled her eyes, "Fine, you'll have like Michelle Obama arms? How's that?" she smiled, "I think you'll look awesome so just shush. It was a compliment. You are so not from Lima Heights." She said as she unlocked the chair. "Really to bounce?"
"Yeah, whatever." She sat rigid in the chair thanks to the brace, clutching the release papers in one hand as she gripped the duffel bag of her things that Santana had dropped in her lap. "Don't freaking ram me into anything, okay?"
"I won't, princess," Santana teased.
She took a breath, thankful for the distraction from the events earlier in the day. She wheeled her out to the car and helped Quinn get into the small car gently before folding up the wheelchair and putting it in the back. Around the car, the bracelet that Brittany had given her was sitting in the cup holder and the duck ornament that used to hang from the mirror was broken and thrown hastily into the cupholder as well.
Quinn was staring at the cupholder when Santana got in. "Santana... what's going on?" she asked softly, willing to use Santana's problems as a distraction from her own.
"Nothing, Q," she said softly. "I..." she swallowed, tears coming back to her eyes. She leaned over and buckled Quinn's seatbelt before doing her own. "Do you have all your medications?"
"You grabbed my stuff, so I guess so," she shrugged. Reaching over with her good hand, she let her fingers rest lightly on Santana's arm. "What's going on, San? Talk to me," she smiled wanly, "I'm a captive audience after all."
"Brittany and I broke up," she said, trying to act like it didn't bother her.
Quinn blinked, startled. "You... I," she bit her lip, trying to look sad but her healing face hurt too much to do more than look slightly worried. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."
"It happened like an hour ago." She sighed, "It... she slept with Artie.. and I can't be as open as she'd like."
"That... sucks." She sighed, giving Santana's wrist an awkward squeeze before pulling her arm back. "Can I do anything? I mean... I'm pretty useless right now, but my ears still work..."
"I mean.. I just.." Santana swallowed as she started to drive. She pulled onto the backroad so she could drive slowly. "She never really wanted to be my girlfriend, I guess. I was stupid to think that she could be with just me."
"No, she's stupid," Quinn shook her head. "You did everything she asked and got outted by my meathead of an ex-boyfriend in the hallway because of it. She's the stupid one for not realizing what she had with you."
Santana shrugged, "Whatever." She sighed, "I was dumb to think I could date her and still keep it on the DL."
"Yeah, I guess she does kind of have less of a blurting out whatever's on her mind inhibition than Berry," Quinn tried joking with a feeble laugh.
"Yeah." She sighed. "It just sucks... after I just.. After everything I had to do and lose to be with her." Santana turned slowly, as to not jostle Quinn. "I thought she loved me..."
"If it's worth anything, I thought she did too," she offered with a one-armed shrug. "I know I'm probably not much company but I had a brand new carton of Ben & Jerry's Cherry Garcia in the freezer at home before this whole... mess. Assuming my mom didn't eat it while I was out, want to watch bad reality tv and eat it?"
"I'm not really into ice cream, but yeah." She sighed, "You're better company than most... and I gotta help you move your room around. Thank fuck you have the bedroom on the first floor."
Quinn sighed, her predicament crashing back in on her. "Help. Yeah right. I'm useless. Just leave everything as it is. I'll figure it out. Not like I'll be out of the bed much anyway."
"I know." She said softly, "I just want things to be easy for you... You have one more week of resting and healing until you can start working with the physio dude... I just think that whatever we can do to make shit less annoying for you will help."
"There is no making shit less annoying for me, Santana," Quinn growled. "I'm paralyzed. I can barely feel anything below my belly button. Just leave things as they are. At least I know where the hell everything is unless my mom took it on herself to rearrange and clean again."
"It was normal looking when I jacked your stuff last week." She smiled, "Hopefully she forgot and won't call the cops on me."
"Considering how much she drinks, I'm surprised she's still alive," Quinn muttered, staring out the window.
"She should be studied..." Santana sighed as she pulled into the driveway. "Alright, let's do this and then we can watch Tyra and the model types be crazy."
"Why bother?" Quinn whispered, unable to get out of the car without Santana's help. She'd wanted a distraction, not to have how shitty her life was thrown in her face. She knew it was shitty. It was her life after all.
Santana got the chair out and then helped Quinn into it before slinging the duffle over her shoulder. She pushed Quinn carefully through the front door after unlocking it with the spare key she lifted the week before. "It's better than the hospital at least..."
"Purgatory would be better than the hospital," Quinn muttered, not surprised to hear the vacuum going. Judy always vacuumed on Saturdays.
Santana wheeled Quinn into the hall, "Do you want to try to like eat something before you go into your room? The hospital people said your mom arranged a shower seat thing for you so we can get you showered if you'd like..."
"Not really feeling up to you helping me shower, Santana," she muttered dryly as Santana pushed her through the house. "Let's just go to my room so I can get in bed and out of this stupid chair."
"I was gonna make Judy do it... but okay," she said as she rolled her into the bedroom and put the blanket back on the bed and pulled down the blankets so she could lay on the sheets. "Alright." She helped her lie back down, "Is that okay?"
"I don't want my drunk mom helping me shower like some infant either," she growled. "And no, it's not okay and it never will be okay. I'm sick and tired of being an oversized doll to everyone! I can't do anything!"
"Stop. Quinn, I'm not gonna let you wallow and feel sorry for yourself," Santana snapped. "Look, this fucking blows, but it is what it is.... the doctor said you will get better. It's just gonna take some time."
"Neither you, the doctor, or anyone else with an opinion on this has to have help to even use the fucking bathroom, Santana!" Quinn glared at her. "You have no idea how I feel so stop acting like you do."
"I know... I'm sorry." She sighed, "What can I do to make you feel less pissed off at the world?"
"Stop acting like I'm a fucking doll and actually interact with me for one," she growled unhappily. "Just because I can't feel my legs doesn't mean you get to manhandle me about like I'm a freaking dead body."
"Sorry, I... I just don't want you to be uncomfortable," Santana said softly. "You don't like asking for help so I thought I... I'd just circumvent that."
"Well think how you'd feel in my place for once, San!" Quinn cried, upset. "I can't freaking do anything and I know that. I don't need it rubbed in my face all the damn time."
"I'm sorry... I didn't realize it. I'm sorry." she said softly.
Quinn blinked back the tears forming in her eyes and looked away. "I just... I just wanted one moment, just a little bit, where I could just pretend things were... okay. That we were just two normal friends commiserating over a breakup. God... why does everything have to be about how fucking broken I am?"
"You... why don't we just talk about my shitty relationship? Or lack there of." Santana sighed, "We can talk about my breakup."
She sighed and shook her head. "No, there's no point. We're not that kind of friends anyway. It was a stupid idea."
"I changed the subject because I didn't wanna cry like a bitch in front of you," She said softly as she moved to sit down on the side of the bed. "Brittany... She slept with Artie, like... she cheated on me."
"I'm not really surprised," Quinn shrugged lopsidedly, her broken arm still too heavy to move freely. "She's never been very loyal..."
"She's always been to me," Santana said, "I mean, why would she put me through everything... why would she make me... if she wasn't going to stay with me?"
"San," she whispered, reaching over to grip her wrist loosely, "she didn't get with you after the first time. She demanded all of that from you, then wouldn't even leave Artie. It's just... it's who she is. That's all."
"But... I did everything she wanted. I ruined my life, my relationship with my family and still lost her... Why am I not good enough?"
"That's a stupid question. Stop asking why you aren't good enough. Look at me. Why wasn't I good enough for Finn? Or for Puck to be loyal for one damn moment? Or Sam... though that was kinda my own fault."
"Sorry about that," Santana mumbled. "But you didn't love any of them..."
"None of them loved me either," she pointed out. "Finn was cheating on me with Rachel the entire time he thought Beth was his. Then Puck was sexting you after I gave him a chance. And Sam..." she shrugged, "Sam was a pity date set up by Rachel and Finn as I found out later. That was really cute. Using me as collateral to get a guy to join the club and my dumb ass fell for it too."
"You just haven't found the right guy. He's out there for you... I know he is. You are awesome, Q." Santana smiled, "Easy on the eyes, too." She wiggled her eyebrows, trying to lighten the mood.
She sighed, shaking her head. "I'm done with that. No more guys. This time for real. I need to focus on my work and... and getting out of this damn bed."
"Which you will," Santana said, "But, I thought we weren't talking about that. Or you," She teased.
"Oh, would you rather talk about setting you a profile up on some lezzie dating site?" Quinn shot back with a lopsided grin.
"Ew... gross no. I don't want some old truck driver looking at my photo!" She exclaimed, "Never."
"Then I get to set you up on blind dates with cute Yale girls?" she suggested, allowing herself to open to the possibility of actually going to Yale still.
"I doubt there are people like me there..." she said, her hand rubbing her wrist. "I'm just gonna date guys again at college..."
Quinn nose crinkled for a moment before the jolt of pain at the flexing of the only just healing cartilage stopped her. "Ew. San, you finally got over being with guys and admitted you like girls. Just stick with that. There's totally gay women out there. Just ask Rachel. She probably knows loads from her dads."
"They all have like crew cuts and look like dudes anyway." she scoffed, "I rather just date a guy then ask Berry for help with women."
She blinked. "Santana, you're gay and you don't have a crew cut or look like a dude..."
"Not yet..." she complained, "But, like I'm sure I'll end up like that. They all do."
"If you ever get your hair cut that short, I'm going to smack you," Quinn pointed out. "You're too pretty to do that."
"How will people know I'm gay then?" she asked naively. "Kurt and Blaine scream homo... but no one believes me..."
"Because most people at McKinley remember you running around with Puck and Sam as well as random football players. Plus you played drunk gay at parties with Britt for so long most of the guys probably think it's still a show." She shrugged.
Santana pushed her long hair back, "Maybe..." she said softly.
"Whatever. Most of the guys at McKinley are jerks and assholes anyway. The ones that aren't know and don't care you're gay. Even Puck's been totally cool about you coming out," she pointed out, smirking. "I bet you could get in Berry's pants if you could pry her away from Finnocence's grubby paws after our I Kissed A Girl number."
"Do you really want to turn me off girls forever?" Santana gaped, "Plus, by that logic I could have Tina and Mercedes and you."
Quinn scoffed. "If you'd wanted me you would have tried a long time ago. And New York doesn't count."
"You are too uptight for my tastes."
"Oh. So that's why," she teased, flicking Santana's wrist.
"Yup, sure is." she nodded, "You don't tickle my lust thoughts like others do," Santana lied with a smile.
Quinn chuckled wryly. "Yeah, I don't really do that for anyone but Puck and a bit too much for Finn apparently. And that sure worked out well."
"Brittany. She had a sex dream about you once," Santana said. "And Artie stares at your tits."
"Wow. So not compliments." She shrugged and shook her head. "Whatever. It's not like it matters anymore anyway."
"Did your tits fall off?" Santana asked worriedly, her eyes roaming her friend's chest.
"What?" she stared at her confusedly. "That doesn't even make any sense. Of course they didn't."
"Phew!" Santana exclaimed, "Fuck me, if you lost those I would be worried for you!" she joked, beaming at her friend. "Gotta keep you balanced."
Quinn just stared at her incredulously. "Great, so I'd only be completely ruined if I lost my breasts?"
"You are no fun today," Santana pouted, "I'm trying to make you smile, Q."
"Well, I really don't understand your humor. Not that I ever really did in the first place."
"You bets find yourself a personality at that fancy Ivy League of yours."
"Wow. The insults keep coming," she huffed. "Why do I keep you around again?"
"Because," Santana smiled, "I'm hot and you love me."
"No... pretty sure I don't love you," she almost smirked.
"Yes, you do." She said, "You can't stand being without me."
"Uh... nope. Sorry, try again."
"Be that way, Blondie." Santana stated, as she stood up. "Want me to leave you?"
She shrugged, "That's your decision. Not like I can make you stay or kick you out."
"You hungry or thirsty? I can get some stuff before I make you watch tv with me."
"If you want," she shrugged again, not wanting to ask for anything, just hoping her mom would bring her dinner later.
"How about I get drinks and a snack so you can take your meds and then we see how you feel later when your mom makes dinner?"
"Yeah, okay. If you want."
Santana nodded and slipped out into the kitchen. She rummaged and found two string cheeses and two water bottles. She headed back into the girl's room and looked for the medications in the bag. "You want cheese before or after the drugs?"
"Can I have cheese with them?" she asked curiously, not having really thought about dietary restrictions at the hospital.
"Yeah. This stuff is cool with everything and the antibiotics and stuff seems okay." She said as she read the bottles for the interactions and doses. "So it's painkiller time."
"Do I have to?" she asked softly, looking at the bottles in Santana's hands with trepidation. "They always make me so groggy and disconnected..."
"Uh... I don't want you to be hurting though. Does... it hurt a lot?"
She shrugged. "I don't know. Everything feels kinda vague still."
"Okay... tell me if it gets bad? Then promise you'll take it?" she asked nervously, not wanting Quinn to hurt.
"Bad how? Bad regular people hurt or bad Cheerios hurt?" Quinn tried joking feebly.
"Quinn... maybe take half?" she asked softly.
Quinn bit her lip thinking about it then nodded slowly with a sigh. "Okay..."
Santana quickly broke a pill and opened the water, putting a straw inside it and leaned over letting Quinn drink. "Okay, here," she said holding to Quinn to take in her unbroken hand.
Quinn held out her hand and looked at the pills when Santana added the antibiotics and muscle relaxants she had to take as well with a wry grimace before tossing them in her mouth and taking a quick few sips to swallow them down. "Ugh... I hate that. I just... didn't want to fall asleep and leave you hanging."
"I would have been here when you woke up," Santana said as she carefully sat up with her back against the headboard.
"That's hardly fitting behavior for a host," she tried smiling, but there wasn't much joy to it. "I'm not supposed to fall asleep on you after all."
"I'll give you etiquette leeway," Santana smiled. "Plus, I'll just root around in your room," she teased and winked.
Quinn huffed out something that was almost her old laugh. "Doubt you'll find anything interesting. Mom's probably already gone through everything."
"Damn." Santana said, "No dirty things?"
She raised a brow slightly. "Really, Santana? Exactly what kind of girl do you take me for? The dirtiest things I own are likely in my laundry hamper if Mom hasn't already washed them."
Santana pouted, "I take you for a repressed blonde who has to have some kind of dirty kink like the rest of us."
"And that means I have to have nasty things hidden in my room?" she huffed out another almost laugh. "If there were anything like that in here, there wouldn't be any point to it anymore. It's not like I can feel anything."
"So you do have a filthy fetish!" Santana smirked, "Is that what I'm getting out of this conversation?"
"No, that's what you're making up in that nasty mind of yours," she almost smirked again.
"You're no fun," Santana said as she grabbed the laptop off the desk and positioned it on the dresser once she pushed it to the end of Quinn's bed. "Can you see that?"
Quinn frowned at the small screen at the end of her bed. "Yes... I suppose so. What are you doing?"
"Well, you can't see it on the side of the bed... and you don't have a TV in here... yet."
"I don't need a TV in here," she pointed out dryly. "It's useless down there though. Why not just put it on a bed tray? I think there's one in the kitchen."
"Oh..." Santana said. "Fancy white people stuff," She teased as she pushed the dresser back, "Why wouldn't you need a TV? You're in here for another week at least."
"There's a TV tuner attached to my laptop," she pointed out, gesturing to the device plugged into the PCI slot. "It's cheaper than a TV and I can record shows on the hard drive." She gave a lopsided shrug, "Mom still pays for the service, but between that and Netflix, I'm pretty set, don't you think?"
"Again... fancy," Santana said as she wiped her hands on her jeans. "I'll go find the tray," she said as she slipped out of the room.
"Yeah well," she muttered as Santana headed out of the room, "easier to buy me things than actually be real parents and sober up I guess."
Santana grabbed the tray and carried it back to Quinn's room. "Is this what you were talking about?"
"Yeah," she nodded, using her good arm to awkwardly shift from the middle of the bed so Santana could sit with her. "Daddy got it to bring Mom breakfast in bed on Mother's Day a few years back. So... didn't get used much."
"Well, it's handy," Santana said as she put the tray over Quinn's thighs and placed the computer on it. She put the water bottles on the bed with them and unwrapped Quinn's cheese stick. "Here ya go."
"Thanks," she murmured before awkwardly logging on and cueing up the TV interface with her left hand. "Can you find something? This is awkward as hell."
"Yeah, sure." Santana said as she figured out how to work the machine. "What do you want to watch?"
She shrugged, "Whatever. I've been out so long I'm behind on everything."
"Hmm... Want to watch Dollhouse?"
"Sure," she offered a small smile, "Dushku's pretty hot after all. It's a good distraction."
"Homo," she teased and found the series on Netflix.
"Coming from you, the irony of that insult is almost palpable," Quinn remarked dryly. "There's nothing at all wrong with appreciating her qualities. She's hot and a great actress. Tell me you didn't watch Buffy for Faith and Buffy's scenes."
"I... I did not," Santana stammered, "Shut up."
"Why not?" Quinn raised a brow. "I did."
"Is that why you have a fetish for Berry? She's got that weird annoying dark hair, pops up everywhere things are going on. Plus, she's crazy."
Quinn's brows shot up for a second, only to drop with a wince. "I do not have a... a fetish for Rachel!"
"Don't do that," she said softly. "But, yes, you do. You've been all soft for her lately."
"Because I thought maybe she was my friend!" she insisted. "Not because I have a fetish. Jesus, Santana. I'm... kind of surprised she never visited though," she murmured, glancing away.
"Finn told her not to come," Santana admitted. "I overheard them fighting about it the other day after Glee."
"Really. And she obviously listened." She snorted after a moment and shook her head, "I told her he'd ruin her life. Stupid little girl."
"We'll she can't drive... and the hospital is far away. Maybe she'll walk over now that your home."
"It's not that far," she groused. "And her dads drive her pretty much anywhere she wants anyway." She shrugged, "Whatever, it's not a big deal if she visits or not."
"Brittany wants to come. She's been scared to come to hospital, her mom told her not to..." Santana said, wincing at the thought of her ex.
"Maybe when you're busy," she offered with a shrug. "It's not like I'm fending 'em off with a stick here."
She shrugged, "Yeah... I'm avoiding her right now."
"Not surprised. Breaking up kinda sucks," she shrugged. "Even when you're the one doing it."
"Yeah," Santana said sadly, as she shrunk down into the bed and focused on the show.