Appendicitis
Title: Appendicitis
Pairing: Santana/Rachel
Rating: PG-13
Length: ~5,300
Summary: Rachel always got nervous before a big show.
Author's Note: Been in progress forever and a day and a half. Along with everything else. Real life has taken over and I just don't have the time to write like I used to. I'll keep writing, of course, but as you may have noticed I'm not going to be as prolific as I once was. <3
Preceded by:
Moods | Surprises | Whipped | Origins
Santana expected for Rachel to be nervous the night before one of her performances; Rachel always got nervous when it was rumored there was going to be a celebrity in the audience. When the rumors started circulating and were confirmed that in less than twenty-four hours Rachel’s company would be performing for none other than her idol it wasn’t really a shock that the budding starlet was a little sick the night before.
As she always did when she was nervous, Rachel complained that her stomach hurt and so Santana put out a spread of Pepto Bismol, ginger ale, and saltine crackers for her while they snuggled up and watched TV the night before the show. They were in the middle of a Golden Girls marathon; Santana wasn’t really paying attention to the screen, she was combing her fingertips through Rachel’s thick hair to calm her down. On any normal night, with any normal nervousness, it would have worked. But Rachel kept shifting and with each shift, she would tense up. Santana furrowed her eyebrows when her fingertips ran over Rachel’s forehead and the skin was entirely too warm.
“Babe, are you sure this is just nerves?” Santana asked.
“Of course it is,” Rachel said with a wince as she shifted. “I’ll be performing for Barbra Streisand in nineteen hours, anyone would be nervous.”
“Your forehead feels warm.”
“I’m fine,” Rachel assured her, settling her head back on Santana's shoulder.
Santana craned her neck to press a kiss against Rachel's forehead, her eyebrows furrowing at the definitely too-warm and a little clammy skin. But, Rachel was just as stubborn as an adult as she had been as a teenager and therefore, there was no convincing her that she was anything but fine. Santana could only shrug and wrap her arms around Rachel's waist to pull her in close.
“Can you loosen your grip? I’m not going anywhere, you don’t have to crush me.”
“I’m not holding on that tight, Rach.”
“Well your hands are digging into my stomach, it hurts.”
Santana loosened her grip, as requested, and Rachel relaxed back into her with a sigh. In only a few minutes, however, Santana felt Rachel begin trembling and her breathing become shallow. Rachel pushed Santana's hands off of her completely but before Santana could say a word, Rachel cried out and clutched on to her lower stomach.
“Rachel…”
All that came was a whimper and Rachel trying to move as quickly as she could in the direction of the bathroom; Santana followed and pulled her girlfriend’s hair back as she emptied what little was in her stomach into their toilet. Rachel cried out again and clutched her right side; Santana started internally panicking. She grabbed a washcloth and ran it under the cool water then wiped down Rachel’s face and kissed her forehead.
“We’re going to the hospital,” Santana said.
“I’m fine,” Rachel gasped. “I…have to perform…tomorrow.”
“I’m the one studying to get MD behind her name, Rachel. Something’s wrong and the only place you’re going right now is to the emergency room.”
With tears streaming down her face, Rachel nodded.
“It hurts,” she whimpered. “It hurts really bad, San.”
Santana wrapped her arm around Rachel’s back and helped her up off the floor, practically carrying her back to the living room. She sat Rachel down long enough to slip her “quick trip” sandals on her feet and quickly laced up her own shoes, grabbed her wallet and keys, and headed out the front door. It only took a few seconds to get a cab and Santana promised the driver a $20 tip if he could get them to the nearest hospital in under five minutes. It took four and a half and Santana paid him an extra $10 on top of it all since Rachel threw up in the back seat.
Luckily, the emergency waiting room wasn't too crowded. It didn't stop Santana from growling at the triage nurse when someone was called back before Rachel. The old man was like a hundred or something, he needed to go anyways. Santana tried to go tell the triage nurse exactly that but was pulled back and hugged close. Santana just glared at the nurse at the desk and wrapped her arm around Rachel's back to rub soothing circles and attempt to calm her down.
Half an hour and two almost-rants later, a couple of incredibly drunk college boys stumbled in to the waiting room and nearly collapsed right on top of the pair. Security had to be called to “contain the crazy Latina girl threatening to rip a young man's scrotum off with her bare hands, and something about bad things happening in Lima Heights Adjacent”. Rachel was taken back almost immediately.
“I think this is the first time I've taken your clothes off without knowing I'll get some,” Santana chuckled, helping Rachel remove her shirt. It got a small smile from Rachel which was better than crying.
Together they managed to figure out the hospital gown and get it tied properly and Rachel into bed. Santana described Rachel's symptoms to the registration girl and handed over insurance cards and all the other bullshit they had to go through. A nurse soon followed and handed Rachel a plastic package containing a small cup. Rachel groaned. Santana only nodded and helped Rachel out of bed and in to the small bathroom attached to the room.
“Do you want me to help?” Santana chewed her lip, attempting to squelch the awkward feeling in her stomach. She loved Rachel, she really did but...she wasn't sure if they were there yet.
Rachel shook her head. “I think I can handle it.”
“I’ll stay here, right outside the door.”
Rachel nodded and Santana stepped out of the bathroom, staying right outside the door as promised. She picked at her fingernails until she heard a flush and running water. Rachel exited, cup in hand, and Santana helped her back to the bed. Santana tried to find something on TV that didn't suck but it didn't look as though she was going to find anything. She finally settled on “Andy Griffith” reruns.
Yet another nurse came in with a young man carrying a tray of vials, tubes, and a saline bag. Rachel was calm, Santana growled, daring the nurse to even make Rachel flinch. The moment the needle went in, the young and eager-looking hospital volunteer threw up which made Santana yell at him and in turn made Rachel jerk and pull her IV out which created more blood. The young man passed out and the nurse just rolled her eyes.
“It's his first night,” the nurse said, grabbing a piece of gauze to stop the bleeding out of Rachel's arm. “Happens all the time.”
“He's lucky he passed out.”
“San, can you call my dads?”
Santana almost protested but Rachel's teary puppy eyes completely broke her. She pressed a kiss to Rachel's forehead and exited the room, stepping over the still passed-out attendant. A second nurse stepped in to wake him just as Santana dialed the Berry house. She knew she had woken them up by the way Leroy answered the phone but neither man minded when Santana told them where they were and why. Santana promised to keep them updated and that if it was anything serious they would be on the next flight out.
When Santana returned to Rachel's room the attendant had been taken out and the floor cleaned. Rachel was sporting a large bruise in the crook of her left arm and the IV had been relocated to the back of her right hand. Santana pressed a featherlight kiss to the bruise and another to Rachel's forehead.
“You’re being rather stoic,” Rachel said with a sniffle after Santana settled herself on the edge of the bed, facing Rachel and holding her hand.
Santana could see the pain behind the girl’s eyes as she tried desperately hard not to cry. It broke her heart. “You’re the one in pain here, babe.”
Rachel swallowed hard and Santana clutched onto her hand a little harder then brought it up to her mouth and pressed a kiss to the back of it.
“I’m scared,” Rachel whispered.
“You’re gonna be fine.”
They finally saw a doctor and Santana again described Rachel’s symptoms and he looked through her chart, Santana knew what he was going to say before he said it.
“I want to do an ultrasound to confirm,” he said, “but I’m fairly certain you have appendicitis, Ms. Berry.”
Santana only nodded; Rachel whimpered and squeezed Santana's hand a bit. It only took a few minutes for a woman to roll in a portable ultrasound machine.
“Hey, maybe we’ll find out you’re pregnant.”
Rachel furrowed her eyebrows.
“You never know, babe, I could be that good.”
Rachel rolled her eyes, again a small smile crossing her lips. Santana kissed her forehead again and focused on the screen after the tech squirted blue gel onto Rachel's stomach and pressed the wand down. Rachel winced and tightened her grip on Santana’s hand. It only took a few minutes and a few clicks of some buttons before it was over with.
“It's definitely inflamed,” the technician said. “The doctor will have to look at it to confirm, though.” The tech handed over a few paper towels to Santana and the brunette carefully cleaned off Rachel's stomach.
“Thanks,” Santana said to the departing tech. “Hey,” she whispered upon seeing a few tears drop down Rachel's cheeks, “it'll be okay.”
Rachel only nodded.
It didn't take long before the doctor returned with a computer, clipboard, and pen.
“Ms. Berry, as you can see in the stills, your appendix is very inflamed. We need to remove it immediately.”
“How long with that take?” Rachel asked.
“An hour or so, not long at all.”
“And how long will I be out of work?”
“It could be up to three weeks before you can resume full activity. I'm well aware that you're a performer but you'll need to take it easy.”
Santana held on, full well knowing what was coming.
Rachel gasped. “No! No! I’m not sure you fully understand the importance of the performance I am scheduled to appear in tomorrow night. Barbra Streisand is going to be in my theater! I cannot miss this performance! What if she is there to find a suitable young ingénue to reprise her role as the iconic Fanny Brice in a re-make of Funny Girl? Or in a stage revival? Surgery will have to wait. Isn’t there something you can administer that will subside the pain for the performance?”
The doctor blinked and Santana sighed.
“Babe, you’re going to have to miss the show.”
“No!”
“Ms. Berry, I’m very sorry but you will have to miss it. You need to have surgery before your appendix ruptures. If that happens it can be very dangerous, life threatening even. I need you to sign these consent forms so we can get you into surgery.”
“I won’t do it. I demand to be released immediately.”
“We can’t keep you against your will but I am strongly advising you to reconsider.”
“She’s not going anywhere.” Santana gripped Rachel’s shoulder. “She’s going to sign the consent forms and have surgery.”
“No, I’m not.”
Santana growled. “Yes you are or I’m going to call your dads and have one of them-“
Santana was cut off by a cry from Rachel as she held onto her side. The doctor dropped the papers at the foot of the bed and pressed his hand against Rachel’s hip and she cried out again.
“Ms. Berry, we need to do surgery right now.”
Rachel was groaning in pain, begging for it to stop; Santana could only rub circles on her back and beg her to reconsider.
“Just do the surgery,” Santana pleaded.
“We need her consent.”
“Baby,” Santana cupped Rachel’s face in her hands, “please let them do it. Please. It’s not worth your life, it’s not.”
“But…”
“I don’t want to lose you like this,” Santana whispered. “It’s not worth your life, Rachel. I love you and I want to spend a lot more time with you. Let them do it.”
Rachel whimpered and nodded. “Do it.”
“That good enough?” Santana looked at the doctor and he nodded.
“We’ll get her upstairs right away.”
XXXXXXXXXX
Santana paced the floor back and forth after she kissed Rachel’s forehead and they took her into the operating room. She called Rachel’s dads right afterward, the conversation was short because Santana was quickly losing her grip on staying stoic. A second call was placed to Rachel's director telling him what was happening and that Rachel would be out for three weeks. He sounded frustrated but a snapped, “Unless you want her to fucking die on stage,” made him apologize and send his well-wishes.
Santana continued pacing the floor in the operating waiting room holding a blue disc that was to light up and vibrate when she had to go to the nurse’s station. It was kind of pointless since she was about six feet away from the desk. Someone came around with a magazine cart and a plate of cookies. They gave a sympathetic smile and Santana swallowed hard and nodded graciously as she took one of the large chocolate chip cookies. She kept pacing as she nibbled away.
Finally, she heard the doors from the operating room open and a doctor came in, he walked toward her but veered off to another family that was waiting. Santana sighed and dropped to a chair with her head in her hands.
“Please, God, just let her be okay,” she murmured.
Santana jumped and shrieked a little when the blue disc on her lap started vibrating and lighting up. It took two huge leaps to get to the nurse’s desk and a woman in pink scrubs led Santana through a set of doors and down a row of beds. Santana wrung her hands and the nurse pulled back a curtain to reveal a sleeping Rachel.
“The doctor will be by in a moment,” the woman said.
“Thank you,” Santana managed to choke out.
The Latina carefully picked up Rachel’s hand and kissed the back of it. She watched the small brunette’s chest rise and fall for a few minutes before the doctor came in.
“The surgery was successful,” he said. “Her appendix hadn’t ruptured yet but it was very close, you’re lucky you got her in when you did. She fought the anesthesia, we had to give her a higher dose than we normally would for this procedure but it's nothing dangerous. It just means she'll be asleep for a while. We’ll keep her through tomorrow and see how she does before we decide whether or not to discharge her.”
Santana nodded, unable to speak due to the lump in her throat increasing in size every second. When the curtain closed behind the man in blue scrubs, Santana leaned down and pressed a kiss to Rachel’s forehead and let the tears roll.
“Don’t you ever scare me like this again, Berry,” she whispered against Rachel’s forehead.
Rachel whimpered and shifted a little but didn’t wake.
Santana followed the orderlies as they took Rachel up to a regular room and as soon as she was settled, Santana called the Berry men to let them know everything was alright. She settled herself in one of the uncomfortable hospital recliners and took Rachel’s hand and waited. Every time Santana would close her eyes they would snap open again at every twitch or every whimper from Rachel.
The sunrise through the hospital window was a bit dull when Santana watched it. She'd had, collectively, maybe two hours of sleep. Rachel shifted, snapping Santana's attention back to her girlfriend in bed. Santana gripped on to Rachel's hand and brushed the hair out of her face, staying right in Rachel's line of vision to ensure that she was the first thing that Rachel saw when her eyes finally fluttered open.
“Santana?”
“Right here, babe.”
Rachel slowly opened her eyes and Santana kept a hand on Rachel’s cheek.
“Am I going to die?”
“No, Drama Queen, you’re not going to die. They did the surgery and you were about five minutes away from your appendix rupturing and you fought the anesthesia. Next time you’re not going to argue when a doctor says you need surgery.”
“I have to perform tonight.”
“Or not.”
“This could be a pivotal moment in my career, Santana.”
“Yeah, and you could rip your stitches out and bleed all over the front row. Do you really want Babs covered in your blood? I don’t think she’ll appreciate that.”
“She’ll be in the balcony, probably in her own private box.”
Santana groaned and leaned forward to press a kiss to Rachel’s forehead. “You’re staying right here until the docs say otherwise. After that you’re staying at home and I’m taking care of you, got it?”
“But…”
“Look,” Santana growled, “I already almost lost you once in the last twenty-four hours, Rachel. I’m not fucking going through that again when you overdo it or rip your stitches out just because you want to perform. I swear to God I’ll tie you down.”
Rachel smiled a little. “You were really worried?”
“Well…yeah! Shit, you’re my girlfriend, why wouldn’t I be? You think I’m that coldhearted? I love you, babe, of course I was worried.”
Rachel sighed and squeezed Santana’s hand and gave a defeated smile.
“No show tonight,” the starlet mumbled. “But if I’ve been released by then I demand that we at least attend.”
“We’ll see what the doctor says.”
In true determined Rachel Berry fashion she was up walking the moment the doctor said it was alright. She whimpered with the first few steps and Santana held onto her even though Rachel insisted she could walk just fine. The Latina wasn’t taking any chances. Around three in the afternoon, Rachel started getting fidgety and Santana knew why. The doctor hadn’t said anything about a release yet, just a “we’ll see how the day goes”.
The doctor came in for his final rounds at five o’clock rounds and flipped through Rachel’s charts. Santana glared at him, Rachel trembled a little bit.
“Assuming all goes well tonight, Ms. Berry, I think you should be able to go home tomorrow morning.”
Santana wrapped her arm tight around Rachel’s shoulder as the small brunette started trembling harder. The tears started flowing and Santana gently wiped them away with the corner of Rachel’s blanket.
“You’ll get another shot, babe.”
“I don’t want another shot!” Rachel growled. “I want this shot! This has been my dream since the first time I saw Funny Girl! Why do I have to stay here? I’m fine! I’ve been walking and I’m only a little sore. Why do I have to stay here?”
“We want to watch for complications and infections,” the doctor said. “It’s standard procedure to keep the patient at least two or three days.”
“And if I demand to leave?”
“We can’t keep you here against your will…”
“I demand to leave,” Rachel cut him off. She crossed her arms over her chest. “I want to be discharged immediately.”
“Rachel, no.”
“You can’t tell me what to do.” Rachel shrugged away from her girlfriend and whimpered a bit, her hand moved down to hold onto the small pillow over her lower abdomen.
“Damn it, Rachel! Stop being so selfish!”
“Wh-what?”
“Oh my God, I’m going to miss Barbra Streisand, my dream come true!” Santana mocked the other brunette. She loved Rachel, she really did, but sometimes Rachel didn’t get that the little things she said stung a bit.
“What about it?”
“Did you ever think about anyone else’s dreams? Did you ever think that maybe my dream is not to have my girlfriend die from an infection or bleed to death because she got excited and ripped her stitches out? It’s illegal to marry a corpse, Rachel!”
Santana’s last statement echoed through the room like it was the Grand Canyon. Rachel’s eyes went wide and she gasped. The doctor cleared his throat a little and rocked on his feet trying not to look at the two women in the hospital bed.
“You just said…”
“Yeah, what of it?”
“Is that a proposal, Santana Lopez?”
“Not if you’re demanding to be discharged.” Santana stood from the bed and crossed her arms over her chest. Yeah, she may have settled down a little since high school but she still harbored the power to manipulate whenever she needed to.
“You’re asking me to choose between you and Barbra Streisand?! How dare you?!”
“No I’m asking you to not be an idiot and listen to the doctor, Berry. I love you and yeah, I want to get married but I want to marry a girl that isn’t stupid enough to risk her life like this.” Santana dropped back to the bed and pulled Rachel’s hand to her lap. “I love you. There will be other chances for you to meet her.”
“But what if…”
“Rachel, please, I’m begging you. Don’t take this risk. I’m not going to leave you if you go but I’m asking you not to and there isn’t much I have ever asked of you except to maybe be quiet so the neighbors don’t complain.” Santana cracked a smile and Rachel giggled a little with tears streaming down her face. “Please, baby, please. I’m not asking you to choose, I’m asking you to be smart about this.”
Rachel nodded and Santana reached out to wipe the tears off of the diva’s face. “I'll stay.”
“Thank you.”
“Keep walking, Ms. Berry. But I stress, do not over exert yourself. It will only hinder your recovery.”
Santana stayed by Rachel's bedside for the remainder of the night, only leaving to get dinner when Rachel threatened to start doing jumping jacks if she didn't.
Around 10:30 that night, well after Rachel had dozed off and just about the time her castmates would be leaving the theater, Santana's phone lit up and began vibrating on the hospital tray. She grabbed it quickly and checked to make sure that Rachel was still sleeping before checking her messages. A video message popped up and what Santana saw made her face split into a wide grin. She debated for a couple of seconds as to whether or not to wake Rachel, eventually deciding to do it because she'd be sleeping on the couch for a week if Rachel didn't see the message right away.
“Rachel?”
“I think I'll try defying gravity,” Rachel sang softly.
“Rach, wake up.”
Rachel jerked awake, groaning in pain as she did so. Santana flinched at the power of Rachel's hand gripping tight to her own as the pain subsided and almost regretted waking her girlfriend.
“What's wrong?”
“I have something you need to see.”
Santana held up her phone in front of Rachel's face and pressed play, the screen fading in from black and there, backstage of Rachel's show, was Barbra Streisand.
”Good evening, Rachel! I just heard about what happened and can I say I am so very sorry that I didn't get the chance to see you perform tonight. All of your cast members have been going non-stop about how wonderful you are and I look forward to a time when I can see you perform. Until then, get well soon!”
Santana smiled as she watched Rachel's jaw slowly drop and the smaller girl began shaking.
“B-b-barbra...”
“Yeah. I just got it a little while ago.”
“B-b-barbra...”
“I know, babe.”
“S-s-streisand...”
“Yeah.”
The heart monitor by Rachel's bedside began racing off the charts sending two nurses in with a crash cart.
“Ms. Berry, are you okay?”
“She's fine,” Santana answered. “Just got a little excited. Barbra Streisand sent her a video.”
The nurse in Yankees scrubs quirked an eyebrow, the one in pink smiled widely.
“Keep the excitement to a minimum,” Yankess scrubs nurse growled. She stormed out of the room with the crash cart leaving the other nurse behind.
“Can I see it?!” the nurse squealed. “I love Barbra.”
Santana eventually had to put the video on repeat because she got tired of reaching over to hit the play button. It played constantly for an hour. Santana had it memorized by the time Rachel fell back asleep.
This time, when dawn broke, Santana wasn't awake to see it. She was so exhausted that she'd fallen asleep in the hospital recliner and was unaware of anything happening until she drifted back in to consciousness to see a huge, elaborate flower arrangement being placed on the hospital room dresser. The florist handed a small card to Rachel.
“Who are those from?” Santana yawned.
“I have no idea.”
Santana rubbed her eyes while Rachel carefully pulled the small card out of the envelope. A shriek made Santana stand straight up and took the last of the tiredness out of her.
“Santana! Santana, listen to this!”
“Listening.”
“I hope you got my video last night. Enjoy the flowers and get back on stage soon. With love, Barbra.”
“Awesome, babe.”
“This was really signed by her! I recognize the signature. Sh-she held this in her hands! Barbra touched this card.”
“I'll get a frame for it.”
“Oh, please do! Can you go now? Is there a frame shop open nearby?”
“Rach,” Santana dropped back to the recliner, “we'll get one when you get home. Until then, I'll put it with the flowers.”
Rachel continued walking all over the hospital floor for the duration of the morning, proving to the doctor that she was more than ready to go home. He consented and after lunch, Santana packed Rachel's things while the nurses got her IV taken out and final paperwork signed. Rather than take a cab, Santana called one of Rachel's castmates to bring their car and leave it in the hospital parking lot. Rachel never let go of the small card that came with the flower arrangement as Santana drove them home.
“Santana?”
“Yeah?”
“I don't mean to be a back-seat driver - although I'm in the front seat - but...the speed limit is above fifteen. There's a line of cars behind us.”
“They'll get over it.”
“If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were being protective of me.”
“Yeah, well...You don't need your stitches ripped out thanks to some dumbass. I had to practically propose to you to get you to stay in your bed, I'm not taking any chances.”
“Alright, Santana. About that proposal, I must say it was rather inadequate.”
“It was spur of the moment.”
“Did you mean it?”
“I told you I did.”
“I know...but do you still mean it? Do you intend to marry me now that I've recovered and been given a clean bill of health?”
Santana cleared her throat and stretched her neck a little. It was a double edged sword she was facing. If she said 'no' then Rachel would be pissed. If she said 'yes' then Rachel would be pissed about not getting a more elaborate proposal. It was Santana's intention to propose to Rachel, it really was. She hadn't picked out a ring or anything but she knew she wanted to. Deciding that the truth was the best route, Santana took a deep breath.
“Yeah.”
“Is that your official proposal?”
“I don't know. Maybe? I know you want some huge elaborate thing where I profess my love for you with a blimp or a live TV proposal or whatever but it's out there now so yeah. That's my proposal.”
“Oh my goodness.”
Santana panicked when she heard Rachel start hyperventilating next to her. She veered off the road and onto the shoulder, slammed the car into park and reached over to try to get Rachel to breathe again.
“What? Did you throw a clot? Rachel, talk to me!”
“You...proposed!” Rachel gasped.
“Calm down before you blow out your stitches!”
“We're getting married! I have to call everyone!”
“Wait, wait, wait!” Santana grabbed Rachel's hands, searching for her phone, and got her girlfriend's attention. “Look,” she breathed, “I want to wait.”
“Wait? Why?”
“Because I want to make sure we're doing alright before we add that stress, you know? I want to finish school and make sure we're doing good because, like...you know. After that we'll probably want...other things.”
“Kids?”
“Yeah, those.”
“You want kids?”
“Maybe.”
“You want kids...with me?!”
Santana panicked when Rachel yet again started hyperventilating. “Oh God, calm down!”
“I'm sorry...it's just...all very sudden...”
“You don't have to freak out!”
“I just never thought we'd be having this conversation. You must understand that I believed you were content with our current status until you first mentioned the idea of getting married and now the idea of children has entered the picture and I'm just very overwhelmed right now. I need to begin mapping this out.”
“I told you...I want to wait. When I'm almost done with my residency we'll start planning, okay? By then you'll be a huge star,” Santana smiled, “and we'll get married. And we'll start a family after I've got a job I know won't get in the way of everything.”
“You mean it?”
“Yeah.”
Rachel's mouth split into a wide grin and, still clutching her signed card from Barbra, she reached over to pull Santana in and press a searing kiss to her lips.
“I cannot wait until I'm healed,” Rachel whispered, “because you are so getting some.”
“Oh hell yes,” Santana mumbled.
Santana consented to let Rachel see her castmates the next night; they all regaled her with tales of Barbra and showed off pictures. Rachel had pictures on her phone of the flowers that were currently hanging up to dry from Barbra herself and the now framed card and envelope sent with them.
Rachel booked a wedding planner appointment for exactly one month after Santana was scheduled to get her M.D., citing that the planner was one of the most sought after in New York and they needed to make plans now, lest she be booked up when the big day finally came. Santana only shrugged. She could get married on the sidewalk for all she cared. As long as it was Rachel by her side and healthy, that was all that mattered. But it's not like she was soft or anything. Not at all.
Pairing: Santana/Rachel
Rating: PG-13
Length: ~5,300
Summary: Rachel always got nervous before a big show.
Author's Note: Been in progress forever and a day and a half. Along with everything else. Real life has taken over and I just don't have the time to write like I used to. I'll keep writing, of course, but as you may have noticed I'm not going to be as prolific as I once was. <3
Preceded by:
Moods | Surprises | Whipped | Origins
Santana expected for Rachel to be nervous the night before one of her performances; Rachel always got nervous when it was rumored there was going to be a celebrity in the audience. When the rumors started circulating and were confirmed that in less than twenty-four hours Rachel’s company would be performing for none other than her idol it wasn’t really a shock that the budding starlet was a little sick the night before.
As she always did when she was nervous, Rachel complained that her stomach hurt and so Santana put out a spread of Pepto Bismol, ginger ale, and saltine crackers for her while they snuggled up and watched TV the night before the show. They were in the middle of a Golden Girls marathon; Santana wasn’t really paying attention to the screen, she was combing her fingertips through Rachel’s thick hair to calm her down. On any normal night, with any normal nervousness, it would have worked. But Rachel kept shifting and with each shift, she would tense up. Santana furrowed her eyebrows when her fingertips ran over Rachel’s forehead and the skin was entirely too warm.
“Babe, are you sure this is just nerves?” Santana asked.
“Of course it is,” Rachel said with a wince as she shifted. “I’ll be performing for Barbra Streisand in nineteen hours, anyone would be nervous.”
“Your forehead feels warm.”
“I’m fine,” Rachel assured her, settling her head back on Santana's shoulder.
Santana craned her neck to press a kiss against Rachel's forehead, her eyebrows furrowing at the definitely too-warm and a little clammy skin. But, Rachel was just as stubborn as an adult as she had been as a teenager and therefore, there was no convincing her that she was anything but fine. Santana could only shrug and wrap her arms around Rachel's waist to pull her in close.
“Can you loosen your grip? I’m not going anywhere, you don’t have to crush me.”
“I’m not holding on that tight, Rach.”
“Well your hands are digging into my stomach, it hurts.”
Santana loosened her grip, as requested, and Rachel relaxed back into her with a sigh. In only a few minutes, however, Santana felt Rachel begin trembling and her breathing become shallow. Rachel pushed Santana's hands off of her completely but before Santana could say a word, Rachel cried out and clutched on to her lower stomach.
“Rachel…”
All that came was a whimper and Rachel trying to move as quickly as she could in the direction of the bathroom; Santana followed and pulled her girlfriend’s hair back as she emptied what little was in her stomach into their toilet. Rachel cried out again and clutched her right side; Santana started internally panicking. She grabbed a washcloth and ran it under the cool water then wiped down Rachel’s face and kissed her forehead.
“We’re going to the hospital,” Santana said.
“I’m fine,” Rachel gasped. “I…have to perform…tomorrow.”
“I’m the one studying to get MD behind her name, Rachel. Something’s wrong and the only place you’re going right now is to the emergency room.”
With tears streaming down her face, Rachel nodded.
“It hurts,” she whimpered. “It hurts really bad, San.”
Santana wrapped her arm around Rachel’s back and helped her up off the floor, practically carrying her back to the living room. She sat Rachel down long enough to slip her “quick trip” sandals on her feet and quickly laced up her own shoes, grabbed her wallet and keys, and headed out the front door. It only took a few seconds to get a cab and Santana promised the driver a $20 tip if he could get them to the nearest hospital in under five minutes. It took four and a half and Santana paid him an extra $10 on top of it all since Rachel threw up in the back seat.
Luckily, the emergency waiting room wasn't too crowded. It didn't stop Santana from growling at the triage nurse when someone was called back before Rachel. The old man was like a hundred or something, he needed to go anyways. Santana tried to go tell the triage nurse exactly that but was pulled back and hugged close. Santana just glared at the nurse at the desk and wrapped her arm around Rachel's back to rub soothing circles and attempt to calm her down.
Half an hour and two almost-rants later, a couple of incredibly drunk college boys stumbled in to the waiting room and nearly collapsed right on top of the pair. Security had to be called to “contain the crazy Latina girl threatening to rip a young man's scrotum off with her bare hands, and something about bad things happening in Lima Heights Adjacent”. Rachel was taken back almost immediately.
“I think this is the first time I've taken your clothes off without knowing I'll get some,” Santana chuckled, helping Rachel remove her shirt. It got a small smile from Rachel which was better than crying.
Together they managed to figure out the hospital gown and get it tied properly and Rachel into bed. Santana described Rachel's symptoms to the registration girl and handed over insurance cards and all the other bullshit they had to go through. A nurse soon followed and handed Rachel a plastic package containing a small cup. Rachel groaned. Santana only nodded and helped Rachel out of bed and in to the small bathroom attached to the room.
“Do you want me to help?” Santana chewed her lip, attempting to squelch the awkward feeling in her stomach. She loved Rachel, she really did but...she wasn't sure if they were there yet.
Rachel shook her head. “I think I can handle it.”
“I’ll stay here, right outside the door.”
Rachel nodded and Santana stepped out of the bathroom, staying right outside the door as promised. She picked at her fingernails until she heard a flush and running water. Rachel exited, cup in hand, and Santana helped her back to the bed. Santana tried to find something on TV that didn't suck but it didn't look as though she was going to find anything. She finally settled on “Andy Griffith” reruns.
Yet another nurse came in with a young man carrying a tray of vials, tubes, and a saline bag. Rachel was calm, Santana growled, daring the nurse to even make Rachel flinch. The moment the needle went in, the young and eager-looking hospital volunteer threw up which made Santana yell at him and in turn made Rachel jerk and pull her IV out which created more blood. The young man passed out and the nurse just rolled her eyes.
“It's his first night,” the nurse said, grabbing a piece of gauze to stop the bleeding out of Rachel's arm. “Happens all the time.”
“He's lucky he passed out.”
“San, can you call my dads?”
Santana almost protested but Rachel's teary puppy eyes completely broke her. She pressed a kiss to Rachel's forehead and exited the room, stepping over the still passed-out attendant. A second nurse stepped in to wake him just as Santana dialed the Berry house. She knew she had woken them up by the way Leroy answered the phone but neither man minded when Santana told them where they were and why. Santana promised to keep them updated and that if it was anything serious they would be on the next flight out.
When Santana returned to Rachel's room the attendant had been taken out and the floor cleaned. Rachel was sporting a large bruise in the crook of her left arm and the IV had been relocated to the back of her right hand. Santana pressed a featherlight kiss to the bruise and another to Rachel's forehead.
“You’re being rather stoic,” Rachel said with a sniffle after Santana settled herself on the edge of the bed, facing Rachel and holding her hand.
Santana could see the pain behind the girl’s eyes as she tried desperately hard not to cry. It broke her heart. “You’re the one in pain here, babe.”
Rachel swallowed hard and Santana clutched onto her hand a little harder then brought it up to her mouth and pressed a kiss to the back of it.
“I’m scared,” Rachel whispered.
“You’re gonna be fine.”
They finally saw a doctor and Santana again described Rachel’s symptoms and he looked through her chart, Santana knew what he was going to say before he said it.
“I want to do an ultrasound to confirm,” he said, “but I’m fairly certain you have appendicitis, Ms. Berry.”
Santana only nodded; Rachel whimpered and squeezed Santana's hand a bit. It only took a few minutes for a woman to roll in a portable ultrasound machine.
“Hey, maybe we’ll find out you’re pregnant.”
Rachel furrowed her eyebrows.
“You never know, babe, I could be that good.”
Rachel rolled her eyes, again a small smile crossing her lips. Santana kissed her forehead again and focused on the screen after the tech squirted blue gel onto Rachel's stomach and pressed the wand down. Rachel winced and tightened her grip on Santana’s hand. It only took a few minutes and a few clicks of some buttons before it was over with.
“It's definitely inflamed,” the technician said. “The doctor will have to look at it to confirm, though.” The tech handed over a few paper towels to Santana and the brunette carefully cleaned off Rachel's stomach.
“Thanks,” Santana said to the departing tech. “Hey,” she whispered upon seeing a few tears drop down Rachel's cheeks, “it'll be okay.”
Rachel only nodded.
It didn't take long before the doctor returned with a computer, clipboard, and pen.
“Ms. Berry, as you can see in the stills, your appendix is very inflamed. We need to remove it immediately.”
“How long with that take?” Rachel asked.
“An hour or so, not long at all.”
“And how long will I be out of work?”
“It could be up to three weeks before you can resume full activity. I'm well aware that you're a performer but you'll need to take it easy.”
Santana held on, full well knowing what was coming.
Rachel gasped. “No! No! I’m not sure you fully understand the importance of the performance I am scheduled to appear in tomorrow night. Barbra Streisand is going to be in my theater! I cannot miss this performance! What if she is there to find a suitable young ingénue to reprise her role as the iconic Fanny Brice in a re-make of Funny Girl? Or in a stage revival? Surgery will have to wait. Isn’t there something you can administer that will subside the pain for the performance?”
The doctor blinked and Santana sighed.
“Babe, you’re going to have to miss the show.”
“No!”
“Ms. Berry, I’m very sorry but you will have to miss it. You need to have surgery before your appendix ruptures. If that happens it can be very dangerous, life threatening even. I need you to sign these consent forms so we can get you into surgery.”
“I won’t do it. I demand to be released immediately.”
“We can’t keep you against your will but I am strongly advising you to reconsider.”
“She’s not going anywhere.” Santana gripped Rachel’s shoulder. “She’s going to sign the consent forms and have surgery.”
“No, I’m not.”
Santana growled. “Yes you are or I’m going to call your dads and have one of them-“
Santana was cut off by a cry from Rachel as she held onto her side. The doctor dropped the papers at the foot of the bed and pressed his hand against Rachel’s hip and she cried out again.
“Ms. Berry, we need to do surgery right now.”
Rachel was groaning in pain, begging for it to stop; Santana could only rub circles on her back and beg her to reconsider.
“Just do the surgery,” Santana pleaded.
“We need her consent.”
“Baby,” Santana cupped Rachel’s face in her hands, “please let them do it. Please. It’s not worth your life, it’s not.”
“But…”
“I don’t want to lose you like this,” Santana whispered. “It’s not worth your life, Rachel. I love you and I want to spend a lot more time with you. Let them do it.”
Rachel whimpered and nodded. “Do it.”
“That good enough?” Santana looked at the doctor and he nodded.
“We’ll get her upstairs right away.”
XXXXXXXXXX
Santana paced the floor back and forth after she kissed Rachel’s forehead and they took her into the operating room. She called Rachel’s dads right afterward, the conversation was short because Santana was quickly losing her grip on staying stoic. A second call was placed to Rachel's director telling him what was happening and that Rachel would be out for three weeks. He sounded frustrated but a snapped, “Unless you want her to fucking die on stage,” made him apologize and send his well-wishes.
Santana continued pacing the floor in the operating waiting room holding a blue disc that was to light up and vibrate when she had to go to the nurse’s station. It was kind of pointless since she was about six feet away from the desk. Someone came around with a magazine cart and a plate of cookies. They gave a sympathetic smile and Santana swallowed hard and nodded graciously as she took one of the large chocolate chip cookies. She kept pacing as she nibbled away.
Finally, she heard the doors from the operating room open and a doctor came in, he walked toward her but veered off to another family that was waiting. Santana sighed and dropped to a chair with her head in her hands.
“Please, God, just let her be okay,” she murmured.
Santana jumped and shrieked a little when the blue disc on her lap started vibrating and lighting up. It took two huge leaps to get to the nurse’s desk and a woman in pink scrubs led Santana through a set of doors and down a row of beds. Santana wrung her hands and the nurse pulled back a curtain to reveal a sleeping Rachel.
“The doctor will be by in a moment,” the woman said.
“Thank you,” Santana managed to choke out.
The Latina carefully picked up Rachel’s hand and kissed the back of it. She watched the small brunette’s chest rise and fall for a few minutes before the doctor came in.
“The surgery was successful,” he said. “Her appendix hadn’t ruptured yet but it was very close, you’re lucky you got her in when you did. She fought the anesthesia, we had to give her a higher dose than we normally would for this procedure but it's nothing dangerous. It just means she'll be asleep for a while. We’ll keep her through tomorrow and see how she does before we decide whether or not to discharge her.”
Santana nodded, unable to speak due to the lump in her throat increasing in size every second. When the curtain closed behind the man in blue scrubs, Santana leaned down and pressed a kiss to Rachel’s forehead and let the tears roll.
“Don’t you ever scare me like this again, Berry,” she whispered against Rachel’s forehead.
Rachel whimpered and shifted a little but didn’t wake.
Santana followed the orderlies as they took Rachel up to a regular room and as soon as she was settled, Santana called the Berry men to let them know everything was alright. She settled herself in one of the uncomfortable hospital recliners and took Rachel’s hand and waited. Every time Santana would close her eyes they would snap open again at every twitch or every whimper from Rachel.
The sunrise through the hospital window was a bit dull when Santana watched it. She'd had, collectively, maybe two hours of sleep. Rachel shifted, snapping Santana's attention back to her girlfriend in bed. Santana gripped on to Rachel's hand and brushed the hair out of her face, staying right in Rachel's line of vision to ensure that she was the first thing that Rachel saw when her eyes finally fluttered open.
“Santana?”
“Right here, babe.”
Rachel slowly opened her eyes and Santana kept a hand on Rachel’s cheek.
“Am I going to die?”
“No, Drama Queen, you’re not going to die. They did the surgery and you were about five minutes away from your appendix rupturing and you fought the anesthesia. Next time you’re not going to argue when a doctor says you need surgery.”
“I have to perform tonight.”
“Or not.”
“This could be a pivotal moment in my career, Santana.”
“Yeah, and you could rip your stitches out and bleed all over the front row. Do you really want Babs covered in your blood? I don’t think she’ll appreciate that.”
“She’ll be in the balcony, probably in her own private box.”
Santana groaned and leaned forward to press a kiss to Rachel’s forehead. “You’re staying right here until the docs say otherwise. After that you’re staying at home and I’m taking care of you, got it?”
“But…”
“Look,” Santana growled, “I already almost lost you once in the last twenty-four hours, Rachel. I’m not fucking going through that again when you overdo it or rip your stitches out just because you want to perform. I swear to God I’ll tie you down.”
Rachel smiled a little. “You were really worried?”
“Well…yeah! Shit, you’re my girlfriend, why wouldn’t I be? You think I’m that coldhearted? I love you, babe, of course I was worried.”
Rachel sighed and squeezed Santana’s hand and gave a defeated smile.
“No show tonight,” the starlet mumbled. “But if I’ve been released by then I demand that we at least attend.”
“We’ll see what the doctor says.”
In true determined Rachel Berry fashion she was up walking the moment the doctor said it was alright. She whimpered with the first few steps and Santana held onto her even though Rachel insisted she could walk just fine. The Latina wasn’t taking any chances. Around three in the afternoon, Rachel started getting fidgety and Santana knew why. The doctor hadn’t said anything about a release yet, just a “we’ll see how the day goes”.
The doctor came in for his final rounds at five o’clock rounds and flipped through Rachel’s charts. Santana glared at him, Rachel trembled a little bit.
“Assuming all goes well tonight, Ms. Berry, I think you should be able to go home tomorrow morning.”
Santana wrapped her arm tight around Rachel’s shoulder as the small brunette started trembling harder. The tears started flowing and Santana gently wiped them away with the corner of Rachel’s blanket.
“You’ll get another shot, babe.”
“I don’t want another shot!” Rachel growled. “I want this shot! This has been my dream since the first time I saw Funny Girl! Why do I have to stay here? I’m fine! I’ve been walking and I’m only a little sore. Why do I have to stay here?”
“We want to watch for complications and infections,” the doctor said. “It’s standard procedure to keep the patient at least two or three days.”
“And if I demand to leave?”
“We can’t keep you here against your will…”
“I demand to leave,” Rachel cut him off. She crossed her arms over her chest. “I want to be discharged immediately.”
“Rachel, no.”
“You can’t tell me what to do.” Rachel shrugged away from her girlfriend and whimpered a bit, her hand moved down to hold onto the small pillow over her lower abdomen.
“Damn it, Rachel! Stop being so selfish!”
“Wh-what?”
“Oh my God, I’m going to miss Barbra Streisand, my dream come true!” Santana mocked the other brunette. She loved Rachel, she really did, but sometimes Rachel didn’t get that the little things she said stung a bit.
“What about it?”
“Did you ever think about anyone else’s dreams? Did you ever think that maybe my dream is not to have my girlfriend die from an infection or bleed to death because she got excited and ripped her stitches out? It’s illegal to marry a corpse, Rachel!”
Santana’s last statement echoed through the room like it was the Grand Canyon. Rachel’s eyes went wide and she gasped. The doctor cleared his throat a little and rocked on his feet trying not to look at the two women in the hospital bed.
“You just said…”
“Yeah, what of it?”
“Is that a proposal, Santana Lopez?”
“Not if you’re demanding to be discharged.” Santana stood from the bed and crossed her arms over her chest. Yeah, she may have settled down a little since high school but she still harbored the power to manipulate whenever she needed to.
“You’re asking me to choose between you and Barbra Streisand?! How dare you?!”
“No I’m asking you to not be an idiot and listen to the doctor, Berry. I love you and yeah, I want to get married but I want to marry a girl that isn’t stupid enough to risk her life like this.” Santana dropped back to the bed and pulled Rachel’s hand to her lap. “I love you. There will be other chances for you to meet her.”
“But what if…”
“Rachel, please, I’m begging you. Don’t take this risk. I’m not going to leave you if you go but I’m asking you not to and there isn’t much I have ever asked of you except to maybe be quiet so the neighbors don’t complain.” Santana cracked a smile and Rachel giggled a little with tears streaming down her face. “Please, baby, please. I’m not asking you to choose, I’m asking you to be smart about this.”
Rachel nodded and Santana reached out to wipe the tears off of the diva’s face. “I'll stay.”
“Thank you.”
“Keep walking, Ms. Berry. But I stress, do not over exert yourself. It will only hinder your recovery.”
Santana stayed by Rachel's bedside for the remainder of the night, only leaving to get dinner when Rachel threatened to start doing jumping jacks if she didn't.
Around 10:30 that night, well after Rachel had dozed off and just about the time her castmates would be leaving the theater, Santana's phone lit up and began vibrating on the hospital tray. She grabbed it quickly and checked to make sure that Rachel was still sleeping before checking her messages. A video message popped up and what Santana saw made her face split into a wide grin. She debated for a couple of seconds as to whether or not to wake Rachel, eventually deciding to do it because she'd be sleeping on the couch for a week if Rachel didn't see the message right away.
“Rachel?”
“I think I'll try defying gravity,” Rachel sang softly.
“Rach, wake up.”
Rachel jerked awake, groaning in pain as she did so. Santana flinched at the power of Rachel's hand gripping tight to her own as the pain subsided and almost regretted waking her girlfriend.
“What's wrong?”
“I have something you need to see.”
Santana held up her phone in front of Rachel's face and pressed play, the screen fading in from black and there, backstage of Rachel's show, was Barbra Streisand.
”Good evening, Rachel! I just heard about what happened and can I say I am so very sorry that I didn't get the chance to see you perform tonight. All of your cast members have been going non-stop about how wonderful you are and I look forward to a time when I can see you perform. Until then, get well soon!”
Santana smiled as she watched Rachel's jaw slowly drop and the smaller girl began shaking.
“B-b-barbra...”
“Yeah. I just got it a little while ago.”
“B-b-barbra...”
“I know, babe.”
“S-s-streisand...”
“Yeah.”
The heart monitor by Rachel's bedside began racing off the charts sending two nurses in with a crash cart.
“Ms. Berry, are you okay?”
“She's fine,” Santana answered. “Just got a little excited. Barbra Streisand sent her a video.”
The nurse in Yankees scrubs quirked an eyebrow, the one in pink smiled widely.
“Keep the excitement to a minimum,” Yankess scrubs nurse growled. She stormed out of the room with the crash cart leaving the other nurse behind.
“Can I see it?!” the nurse squealed. “I love Barbra.”
Santana eventually had to put the video on repeat because she got tired of reaching over to hit the play button. It played constantly for an hour. Santana had it memorized by the time Rachel fell back asleep.
This time, when dawn broke, Santana wasn't awake to see it. She was so exhausted that she'd fallen asleep in the hospital recliner and was unaware of anything happening until she drifted back in to consciousness to see a huge, elaborate flower arrangement being placed on the hospital room dresser. The florist handed a small card to Rachel.
“Who are those from?” Santana yawned.
“I have no idea.”
Santana rubbed her eyes while Rachel carefully pulled the small card out of the envelope. A shriek made Santana stand straight up and took the last of the tiredness out of her.
“Santana! Santana, listen to this!”
“Listening.”
“I hope you got my video last night. Enjoy the flowers and get back on stage soon. With love, Barbra.”
“Awesome, babe.”
“This was really signed by her! I recognize the signature. Sh-she held this in her hands! Barbra touched this card.”
“I'll get a frame for it.”
“Oh, please do! Can you go now? Is there a frame shop open nearby?”
“Rach,” Santana dropped back to the recliner, “we'll get one when you get home. Until then, I'll put it with the flowers.”
Rachel continued walking all over the hospital floor for the duration of the morning, proving to the doctor that she was more than ready to go home. He consented and after lunch, Santana packed Rachel's things while the nurses got her IV taken out and final paperwork signed. Rather than take a cab, Santana called one of Rachel's castmates to bring their car and leave it in the hospital parking lot. Rachel never let go of the small card that came with the flower arrangement as Santana drove them home.
“Santana?”
“Yeah?”
“I don't mean to be a back-seat driver - although I'm in the front seat - but...the speed limit is above fifteen. There's a line of cars behind us.”
“They'll get over it.”
“If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were being protective of me.”
“Yeah, well...You don't need your stitches ripped out thanks to some dumbass. I had to practically propose to you to get you to stay in your bed, I'm not taking any chances.”
“Alright, Santana. About that proposal, I must say it was rather inadequate.”
“It was spur of the moment.”
“Did you mean it?”
“I told you I did.”
“I know...but do you still mean it? Do you intend to marry me now that I've recovered and been given a clean bill of health?”
Santana cleared her throat and stretched her neck a little. It was a double edged sword she was facing. If she said 'no' then Rachel would be pissed. If she said 'yes' then Rachel would be pissed about not getting a more elaborate proposal. It was Santana's intention to propose to Rachel, it really was. She hadn't picked out a ring or anything but she knew she wanted to. Deciding that the truth was the best route, Santana took a deep breath.
“Yeah.”
“Is that your official proposal?”
“I don't know. Maybe? I know you want some huge elaborate thing where I profess my love for you with a blimp or a live TV proposal or whatever but it's out there now so yeah. That's my proposal.”
“Oh my goodness.”
Santana panicked when she heard Rachel start hyperventilating next to her. She veered off the road and onto the shoulder, slammed the car into park and reached over to try to get Rachel to breathe again.
“What? Did you throw a clot? Rachel, talk to me!”
“You...proposed!” Rachel gasped.
“Calm down before you blow out your stitches!”
“We're getting married! I have to call everyone!”
“Wait, wait, wait!” Santana grabbed Rachel's hands, searching for her phone, and got her girlfriend's attention. “Look,” she breathed, “I want to wait.”
“Wait? Why?”
“Because I want to make sure we're doing alright before we add that stress, you know? I want to finish school and make sure we're doing good because, like...you know. After that we'll probably want...other things.”
“Kids?”
“Yeah, those.”
“You want kids?”
“Maybe.”
“You want kids...with me?!”
Santana panicked when Rachel yet again started hyperventilating. “Oh God, calm down!”
“I'm sorry...it's just...all very sudden...”
“You don't have to freak out!”
“I just never thought we'd be having this conversation. You must understand that I believed you were content with our current status until you first mentioned the idea of getting married and now the idea of children has entered the picture and I'm just very overwhelmed right now. I need to begin mapping this out.”
“I told you...I want to wait. When I'm almost done with my residency we'll start planning, okay? By then you'll be a huge star,” Santana smiled, “and we'll get married. And we'll start a family after I've got a job I know won't get in the way of everything.”
“You mean it?”
“Yeah.”
Rachel's mouth split into a wide grin and, still clutching her signed card from Barbra, she reached over to pull Santana in and press a searing kiss to her lips.
“I cannot wait until I'm healed,” Rachel whispered, “because you are so getting some.”
“Oh hell yes,” Santana mumbled.
Santana consented to let Rachel see her castmates the next night; they all regaled her with tales of Barbra and showed off pictures. Rachel had pictures on her phone of the flowers that were currently hanging up to dry from Barbra herself and the now framed card and envelope sent with them.
Rachel booked a wedding planner appointment for exactly one month after Santana was scheduled to get her M.D., citing that the planner was one of the most sought after in New York and they needed to make plans now, lest she be booked up when the big day finally came. Santana only shrugged. She could get married on the sidewalk for all she cared. As long as it was Rachel by her side and healthy, that was all that mattered. But it's not like she was soft or anything. Not at all.