Trusting You To Catch Me - Chapter Twelve
Title: Trusting You to Catch Me
Author: Sio & Maura
Rating: NC-17
Length: 69,823
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 12
It'd been three months since her accident and Quinn was progressing - albeit painfully slowly. So when she managed to actually sit up on her own without any assistance, for her it seemed like an incredible breakthrough, while for her therapists, it seemed right on schedule. She sat there on the table with her legs out in front of her staring at them with a happy but disbelieving smile.
Santana came in from where she'd been getting them a couple of sports drinks from the machine in the lobby and she turned her head to look at her. "San! San, look!" she laughed, "I finally did it! I sat up! All by myself!"
"Holy shit!" Santana exclaimed as she rushed over, "Look at you," she smiled, her hand resting on Quinn's thigh, "That's amazing."
"I know," she agreed with another almost breathless laugh. "I'd been starting to think I'd never get here."
"I knew you'd get here," Santana smiled shyly, "You're awesome."
"You helped," she smiled lopsidedly, reaching down to cover Santana's hand with her own. When Santana's hand flexed slightly and her nails lightly scratched her thigh though her yoga pants, she caught her breath, staring at them intently. "I felt that," she whispered.
Santana did it again, "You can feel me?" She asked asked as she stroked her leg.
"I can feel that. Harder pressure is easier I think," she murmured, watching her hand move along her leg. "It's faint, but I can definitely feel it..."
"Awesome," Santana smiled, "Maybe you'll be walking by graduation."
"Maybe," she nodded. "I hope so." She looked up at Santana with a hopeful smile, "I'm getting better, San. I really am."
"I know you are," Santana said as she kissed Quinn's temple. "Now, do you wanna steam, hot tub or just go home?"
"Help me stretch my legs and then maybe hot tub?" she asked softly. "I'm a little sore."
Santana moved to the girl's feet and rubbed her ankles, "Try wiggling your toes? Or push against my hands?"
"I can try, but it's never worked before," she whispered, biting her lip and focusing on her feet.
When the girl held onto Quinn's feet, she couldn't help but notice the nails she'd painted the day prior, "This purple looks good on you."
Quinn huffed out a laugh, gripping the edges of the table. "Thanks. So are we gonna do this?"
"Go ahead," she said as she watched the girl's feet to see if they moved.
She nodded, staring at her feet as if by looking at them harder would make them easier to move. She didn't feel the frisson of energy shooting through the nerves that ran through the damaged section of her spine and down her legs. Didn't feel the muscles responding or how the warm skin rasped slightly against Santana's palm. Once. Twice. Finally she gave up, dropping back to lay on the table with a frustrated sigh.
"I just can't do it!"
Santana smiled softly. "Hey, they moved," she whispered, "You moved your feet, Q."
"No they didn't," she groused, flopping an arm over her face.
"Q, look at me," she asked as she reached for her hand. "Then watch your feet and try it again."
Quinn dropped her arm off her face with a sigh and leaned up on her forearms, rolling her eyes but looking. "This is stupid," she muttered, but she tried again.
"See!" she exclaimed as Quin's toes then feet flexed. "You moved them!"
"Did I?" she asked, frowning down at her feet. "I can't feel anything..."
"You still moved them! I'm so proud of you." Santana exclaimed, "Feeling will come back... but you're moving your feet."
"I don't know," she whispered, staring blankly at her feet. "They say it'll still take a long time, San."
Santana rubbed her calves, "It will get there... now," She smiled, "Hot tub? I'll even carry you?"
"You'll hurt yourself," Quinn smirked. "I can handle the chair if you can help me get changed and in and out of the tub."
"I can do that," she said as she helped Quinn into her chair then headed back to the locker room with her. She handed her the suit bottoms to put on once they got her undressed then gave her the top while she shyly diverted her glance.
Quinn laughed and rolled her eyes. "You're getting changed too right? Trying to help me in and out when you're out is gonna be a bitch."
"Oh," Santana stated, "Um, yeah... I just thought since you normally go in alone. I don't have a suit, but I can wear my bra and gym shorts."
"That works," she smiled. "But I might have to start sneaking a spare suit in my bag for you. Now come on, I want to keep my muscles from cramping up because amazing as it is to feel my legs, pain isn't a sensation I enjoy."
"Okay, let me change," she said as she ducked behind the second row of lockers and put her shorts on. She came back and grabbed two towels and put them on Quinn's lap before pushing them to the hot tub. She carefully got Quinn up into the hot tub before nervously pulling her shirt off. She had gained almost enough weight to be back on the Cheerios, but she didn't look healthy yet.
The change was noticeable though and Quinn smiled. "You're looking better," she murmured. "Guess Berry's pretty good for you."
"I feel huge," she sighed and slipped in the water. "I just want to go to Nationals."
"You're looking better though," she reached out and brushed her fingers lightly over the slightly less prominent bulges of her ribs. "Moving from skeletal right back to sexy where you belong."
"It's hard to think I look good, but thanks," Santana sighed as she carefully picked up Quinn's legs and put them in her lap so she could massage her muscles.
"I'll just have to keep reminding you then," she smiled lopsidedly. "Think that'll help?"
"Maybe," Santana shrugged, "So, what else is new? How's Judy doing in her program?"
"Good," she nodded. "There's like no booze in the house anymore. I think she even dumped out the cough syrup and cooking wine."
"Wow," Santana said softly, "That's pretty amazing. I'm glad she's trying, finally. Maybe she'll be okay and finally stay sober."
"God only knows," Quinn laughed, not really sure what to think about her mom's 180. "So, how's the squirt?"
"She's fine." Santana smiled slightly, "I think she's mildly insane, but its cool. She's excited about me going to school near them. Now, I just need to tell my father that I picked a school he didn't know I applied too."
"You picked a school? Which one and why haven't you told me!?"
"I've been thinking about Brown since the beginning! They just came back and offered me more funding when I called to see if I could defer until the spring. I'm gonna go to Brown in Providence." She looked up at Quinn, "It's only like and hour and a half from Yale."
A slow smile dawned on Quinn's face. "That's hardly far at all. You'll be almost as close as Rachel in New York. We'll all be able to hang out sometimes."
"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm gonna come see you all the time." She smiled and looked up at Quinn, "That's okay right?"
"Of course that's okay and you know exactly what I'm talking about," she laughed, leaning over to slap Santana's shoulder gently. "She's our friend now. It'll be good to see her once in awhile."
"I know." She said, "Plus, New York is way cooler than New Haven or Providence," she stated before leaning back and watching Quinn for a few moments. "You excited for Nationals for Glee and prom?"
"Yeah." She nodded with a lopsided smile, "Even if I am still going to be stuck in my chair for them."
"Gets you out of having to do lame dance moves in Glee," she smiled, "as for prom, you won't have to wear heels that make your feet get blisters. You are lucky."
"I don't know," she sighed, leaning back against the edge of the tub. "Maybe I just won't go to prom. I'd just feel stupid being there and having to sit and watch everyone else dance all night."
"You can't not go." Santana gaped, "It's senior prom!"
"So? Lots of people don't go to senior prom. It just won't be any fun for me while I'm stuck in my chair and I don't want to bring anyone else's night down by going with someone and making them feel obligated to spend time with me. Besides, you'll go and bring back all the stories, right?"
"B-but," Santana stammered, "I... I was going..." She looked down suddenly nervous and all of her plans that she had suddenly shut down.
"Yeah," Quinn drew the word out glancing over at Santana in confusion, "I thought we established that. You're going and you'll have fun. Maybe you can even get Rachel to dance and not mope over the giant dunce."
"But, I was going to ask you... I wanted to ask you to go with me," she said softly, only somewhat audible over the jets of the tub.
Quinn blinked. "San... I can't even walk. That's not fair. You can't ask me to go to prom with you when I can't even walk. I'm not going to be responsible for ruining both of our nights, I'm just not."
"You wouldn't ruin my night, Quinn. You'd make prom so much better if you came with me... I want to take someone I actually want to prom this year."
"San," she whispered, shaking her head, "you're asking me to a dance that I can't even dance at. I'm going to have to sit there and watch everyone," her eyes shimmered suspiciously, "do something I can't because I was stupid..."
Santana slipped over to her and sat next to her, looking at the blonde. "Quinn... I don't care if you can't dance... I just want you to be my date at prom."
"I told you I can't do this yet," she whispered. "Not until I can walk again. Do you even realize how I'd feel being at that stupid dance? Seeing everyone else able to dance and enjoy themselves while I sit by myself against the wall not even capable enough to be apart of it?"
"Then fuck the dance... we can go see a movie and have dinner." She asked softly, "Please... just be my date that night?"
"Santana, I've told you," Quinn looked at her, begging her to understand. "I can't date anyone until I can walk again. Until I'm better. All of my focus has to be on me right now."
"I know..." she said, looking down at the water. "I just wanted to ask you..."
"I know," she whispered, reaching over to take Santana's hand. "And you have no idea how much it meant to me that someone wanted to. That you were that someone. I just... I can't right now. I'm sorry..."
"It's okay," Santana said softly. "You're right. It was a bad idea to ask when I knew that you weren't ready..."
"It wasn't a bad idea," she murmured, offering a little smile. "Bad timing maybe, but never a bad idea."
"Okay," she said softly. "You're right... Maybe someday."
"Definitely someday," Quinn nodded. "But for prom... I think I'm just going to stay home and watch movies."
"Can I just... Can I stay with you that night? Watch movies and have popcorn?" She asked, tangling their fingers back together. "Just chill."
"Of course you can. But I thought you were going to prom?" she asked quietly, smiling softly at Santana.
"Don't want to waste my money on stupid stuff... plus, I'm going to have to go with a guy and no one will dance with me." She said sadly, "Some days, I wish Dave didn't go to a different school and we both just stayed in the closet."
"You and me both, except the closet thing. I think he'd have been a bit happier here," she shrugged. "But don't be silly. You could go with Rachel and I'm sure she'd dance with you. Her dads are gay, I doubt she'd care that she was dancing with a girl."
"Yeah... but I just don't want to risk getting crowned prom king or something like Kurt got last year."
"Yeah, that'd suck, but," she smirked at Santana, her eyes twinkling mischievously, "I'm sure you'd make an amazing king if you were. Besides, what would you do if you went with me and got crowned king?"
"Hot, you got crowned Queen." She smiled and leaned over and kissed Quinn's cheek. "You should be Queen."
"Really?" she teased, "Even if it means you have to be King?"
"For you?" She smiled, "Yes."
She laughed. "Flatterer. Guess it doesn't matter if we're gonna be hanging out watching movies on Netflix though. Maybe Rach will come over after to regal us with stories."
"Sounds even better than prom." she said with a grin. "Can I buy us tiaras to wear while we're in pajamas?"
"Oh God," Quinn laughed. "If you insist. Does that make Rachel the court jester?"
"Yep! LIke the monkey in Aladdin." She smiled and cuddled into Quinn.
Quinn laughed, nearly doubling over and dunking herself. "Oh God, I just imagined her in that ridiculous costume."
"Right? Though, I say we both get to wear the Jasmine outfit." She said softly, "Cause we'd look sexy."
"I'd look silly," she scoffed, but smiled. "I'm way too pale for that. But think I could pull off Aladdin?" she winked.
"I think you look amazing in whatever you wear." Santana shrugged, "You're awesome like that."
"I just think you'd look more amazing as Jasmine," she shrugged with a shy smile.
"In the red outfit," She smirked, "The one when she's handcuffed by Jafar... that one. I like that one."
"Mmm," she closed her eyes imagining. "Oh... yes, definitely. That would be a good idea."
"Perv," Santana said as she laid back against the jets. "It's nice in here."
"Yeah," Quinn sighed, letting her head rest on Santana's shoulder. "I like having you around. We should get out before we turn into prunes though."
"Alright." Santana climbed out of the hot tub and stepped on the mat next to the tub. She leaned down and picked up Quinn. "No wheelchair until you're dry," she insisted as she carefully carried her to the locker room before setting her down on the bench. She handed her the towel and wrapped one around herself. She started to dry her hair before pulling down her shorts and wrapping the towel around her thin hips.
"Fussy," she mumbled, drying her hair with a little smirk. "I think you just want to be able to look at me more out of the chair."
"If you wanna sit with a wet ass all day," she teased as she dried off her torso. "Take off the bathing suit and get dressed and we can get coffee on the way home."
Quinn laughed, towelling off as best she could before pulling off her top. "Hand me my clothes?" she asked, pointing at them as she worked on the strings holding up her bottoms.
She handed them to Quinn before she took off her bra and dried her chest before grabbing her shirt and pulling it over her head.
"Thanks," she murmured, getting the bottoms off awkwardly and sitting there nude for a moment as she sorted her clothes. Putting her bra on, she got her underwear almost all the way up her legs before sighing. "Hold me up? I can't get leverage on the bench like this."
"Of course," Santana said as she walked over to Quinn in her own underwear and helped her up. "How's that?"
She tugged her panties up. "Thanks." Blushing, she quickly kissed Santana before ducking her gaze back down to her clothes. "I'll need some help with my pants but I think I got the rest."
The corner of Santana's lips tingled from where Quinn's lips had pressed. "Tease," she whispered as she moved back and grabbed her jeans and pulled them up her legs before brushing out her hair.
"Learned from the best," she smirked, pulling her shirt and slacks most of the way on. She watched Santana out of the corner of her eye as she buttoned her shirt up and snagged the brush from her bag to work the tangles out of hers. "I think I should probably shower when I get home. How lucky that Mom redid the first floor bath so I could get in and out on my own. Means you don't have to help any more," she teased.
"How fortunate for all of us who used to get soaked helping you in and out," she teased as she tied her hair back. "Pants on?"
"Mostly," she nodded, reaching for Santana. "Wanna help pull them up or hold me?"
"Just grab my shoulders and I'll get them over your sweet ass," she smiled and took Quinn into her arms and got the pants up and buttoned them. "Good?"
"Good and you're still the bigger tease," Quinn laughed, finally letting go as Santana set her back down. Reaching over she pulled her chair to her and locked the wheels before carefully levering herself into the seat. "Now, you promised me coffee, I believe?"
"Yes, I need coffee before going home and dealing with my dad and Cherie." She said as she grabbed the duffle bag and and wheeled Quinn out to the car.
"Could always stay with me," she offered quietly as she got up into Santana's car.
"I know," Santana said as she got in and started the car. "I'm stuck until they kick me out or college starts. Depending on which happens first."
"You shouldn't have to worry about that type of stuff," Quinn winced, remembering how she'd felt when her dad had kicked her out. "It's not right. But like... at least your mom is cool and there's always the squirt, right?"
"Yep, it's kinda nice knowing someone wants me in my family," she sighed as she drove to Quinn's house. "I'm excited for you to meet her."
"Ooh, should I be afraid?" she teased, "Meeting the family's a pretty big step, don't you think?"
"You realize I'm still meeting them right?" She joked, "I don't even talk to Daniella... just the kid."
"Yeah, but they're the ones that matter," Quinn pointed out. "I so don't ever want to meet your dad or the evil stepmom."
"Yeah, I'd prefer that. They are just hateful people, I don't even know why they kept me."
"Same reason my dad kept me around?" she shrugged. "I don't know. Parents are weird. But hey, looks like you finally got your mom back too."
"Maybe, but it's not like I need her now. She's just there... and breathing down my neck to try to mother me." Santana said as she pulled into the driveway. "Thanks for letting me come with you."
"Why wouldn't I?" she asked confused, "You've been to almost all the others. And hey," she reached over and squeezed her hand before she could get out, "now we got prom plans. Way more awesome than all those other losers, right?"
"Damn right," She said softly before leaning over and kissing Quinn's cheek softly. "See you Monday. Call if you need anything."
"You too," Quinn nodded after Santana came around with her chair so she could get out of the car. "Or just come over. You know I like the company and Berry won't be here until Sunday since she's in temple what seems like all day on Saturday."
"It's what she does," She shrugged, "See ya." She smiled and watched her get into the house before she got back into the car and headed back to her house.
Santana's father was waiting for her in the living room when she arrived. His face was set in lines of stony displeasure. Neatly placed on the coffee table in front of him was a large folder prominently embossed with Brown University's crest. In the armchair across the room, Cherie sat with her legs crossed and hands folded primly on one knee as she smirked at the scene unfolding before her.
The girl came in, took off her shoes and quickly headed up to her room to pull on a bra and sweatshirt before coming down to see her father in the living room. "Papi? You're home early..." She looked at her watch to check if she was late, but she was actually early. "Everything okay?"
"No," he shook his head. "Have a seat, Santana. We need to discuss something that Cherie brought to my attention from today's mail delivery."
Anything that had to do with Cherie was not going to turn out well. She came into the living room and stood in front of her father, "What is it?"
"I said have a seat, Santana," he murmured, his brows dipping in the beginnings of anger.
She moved to sit on the chair across from him and started to get nervous. "Daddy?" she whispered softly, "I've been good. I didn't disrespect your wishes I promise."
"Are you sure about that?" he asked, pushing the folder across the table towards her. "I don't recall any discussion about you applying to Brown, let alone attending there. And yet, I received this in the mail today. Care to explain?"
"My... My guidance counselor said I should apply to another Ivy League... Since, I didn't get into Harvard. I got into an Ivy League school, Dad. I don't have to go to Ohio State."
"Brown was not an option, Santana. Brown was never an option," his dark eyes were stormy with emotion and Cherie was having trouble refraining from laughing in glee across the room. "How could you do something like this?"
"I want to go to a good school. I don't want to stay in Ohio. I never thought I'd get in, but then I did. I called them and asked them to defer it but they're willing to cover most of my tuition with scholarships. It won't cost us nearly as much as Kent or OSU would." She pleaded, trying to show him this was what she really wanted.
His hand slapped down on the coffee table with the force of a gunshot. "Then you should have spoken to me! Not your damn guidance counselor! That woman is not your family, Santana! She has no say at all in how things will work for you! She had no right infringing upon our family! You are not attending Brown, I don't care how much it costs!"
"Why?" Santana asked, "Because Daniella lives near there? Papi, my education is not something I want to mess around with. I want to go to the best school I can!"
"This is not an option, Santana," he all but growled, "or a discussion. You are not going to Brown. That's final."
"No, tell me why! Tell me why you want me to not go to one of the best schools in the country. I deserve to hear it from you!" She yelled, "Tell me!"
"I am your father and you will do as I say, do you understand me?!" He barked. "I don't have to explain anything to a child! This is my final say, Santana. You are either not going to Brown or you are getting out of this house and not coming back, do you understand?"
"What kind of father would let his own issues keep his kid from doing the best she can for herself? I thought you'd at least be a little proud of me, but I guess that's too much to ask for in this house," she said, her eyes welling up in tears. She snatched the packet off the table. "I'll tell them not to send anything to this house again," she said as she stood up and clutched the envelope to her chest.
He pointed at the stairs, his arm trembling with emotion as he fought to contain himself. "Pack your things, Santana. And get out of this house. You're not welcome here anymore." Cherie all but clapped giddily, mentally planning what she could do with the trust money.
"Fine," She said, she looked over disgustedly at Cherie. "I hope you're happy, you stupid cunt." She spat before running up to her bedroom and locking the door. She threw the envelope down and quickly grabbed her duffle bag and started shoving her clothing up inside it.
Carlos slumped back down in his seat, unable to believe he'd just kicked out his only child. "What have I done?" he whispered.
Cherie got up and moved to his side. "The right thing. She's been ruining our lives for years, Carlos."
"She's my daughter, Cherie. Not a pet to toss aside when it gets annoying," he snapped, annoyed that this argument was coming back.
"Well she's leaving. You're not caving and bringing her back now!" She exclaimed, "She's leaving, she made her choice. She disrespected our hospitality."
He groaned, reaching up to rub his face. "You're not getting her money, Cherie."
Cherie's head snapped up and she looked at him, "What! I'm not... Why would... You kicked her out, Carlos!"
"And that money is in her name in her trust fund," he frowned at her. "I may not be adding any more too it but I will not steal from my child no matter how disappointed I am in her behavior and choices. What's hers is hers not yours."
The woman scoffed, "At least you won't be paying for the little brat's college," she said as she stood up, "She better be gone by the time I get home from Mrs. Lenon's treatment," she threatened as she grabbed her make up case and stormed out of the house.
Carlos shook his head. He'd made a mistake ever being involved with that woman and he knew it, but he also knew he couldn't change his mind about Santana's being kicked out. Heading into his office, he got the paperwork for her trust fund and headed out to wait for her at the bottom of the stairs.
About 20 minutes later, Santana had gone through every drawer, both closets and every inch of her bedroom, tearing it apart to find the important things she wanted to bring with her. She pushed her leather jacket into the bag with some of her clothing that she actually wore, her Cheerios stuff and some of her personal items.
She put the blanket that she slept with in her other bag, followed by her pillow and several pairs of her shoes. Her school bag held her laptop, all of her school stuff and her food diary along with her make up as she slung it over her shoulders.
She wiped her nose, stuffy from the crying she had been doing while packing and picked up her two duffle bags. She grabbed her stuffed animal off her torn apart bed and held it in her arms as she struggled down the stairs.
Carlos was standing there, looking up at her sadly. "Let me help," he offered, handing her the folder of papers he'd gotten from his office.
"No thank you," she said softly as she took the papers from him and looked down. "What's this?"
"That's your trust fund," he nodded at them. "I set it up when you were little so you'd have money for college that your stepmom couldn't touch." He took a breath and let it out slowly, "It's in your name. It's yours. As is the car. Don't," he swallowed, "don't worry about your other things. I'll take care of them."
"You... You don't have too. You can just let her burn all the evidence I existed," she sniffled, "I'm sorry I wasn't what you wanted."
"You're my daughter, Santana. Maybe neither of us were what we needed, but that doesn't mean I'll let her destroy you. I... I can't let you stay here if you insist on going against what I tell you," he looked at her, "but that doesn't mean I don't care for you or that I'll forget you."
"I just want to go to college... Do you really hate mom that much?" She asked him, "Do you really hate me that much that you couldn't love me even for my faults?"
"I don't hate you. I don't hate your mother," he assured her. "I just... can't be around either of you. I made so many mistakes... I regret so much, Santana. I just... I can't."
"I hope you regret this," She said honestly, "I loved you no matter what you let your wife say to me... I loved you because you're my daddy... If you can't just deal with me because I'm not doing what you set down as a decree... I just, I don't understand and I don't want your excuses."
"That's not what I can't deal with and someday I hope you'll understand," he whispered. "You're my daughter and I'll always love you but I just can't... handle it. I lose myself in it and I can't handle it. I'm sorry I've disappointed you for all these years, Santana, and I hope someday you'll forgive me, even though I know I don't deserve it."
"You're right, you don't deserve it." She sighed, "But, I expect nothing more from your family. You cut me off when I'm bad," Santana spat, hiked her bags up. "Make sure Abuela keeps on her medications," she added sadly before heading towards the door.
"I will," he offered softly. "When you see your mom," he hesitated, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, "tell her I'm sorry. It's my fault you didn't get to know her. I let your stepmom control too much back then. I'm sorry."
"She came and saw me three weeks ago," Santana said, "I have a sister and they're happy. I'm not going to bring you back up and ruin things when I'm trying to get to know my little sister."
"I deserve that," he nodded, looking down sadly. "I hope you're all happy."
"I hope your wife doesn't try to kill you for your insurance policy," Santana replied as she walked out the door and towards her car. She threw her bags in the trunk and sat down in the front seat and pulled the cigarette that she knew her father disapproved of and lit it as she turned the car over.
He winced as he saw it, opening his mouth to say something before stopping. He knew he didn't have any more rights regarding her. Sighing softly, he turned and went back inside, heading up to pack Santana's things so he could store them before his wife could wreak havoc on them.
After spending two hours smoking herself nearly emotionless, Santana drove over to Quinn's house and knocked on the door. Her eyes were glazed over, but the tell tale red and swollen eyes from hours of tears gave her some life. She was higher than she had even been, almost to the point of not being able to function. She waited at Quinn's door hoping that she could just be with the one person that she knew without a doubt wanted her around.
Judy opened the door cautiously before smiling hesitantly at Santana. "Hello, Santana. Didn't you just drop Quinn off a few hours ago? Did you forget something?"
Santana blinked slowly, "Can I see her?" She asked, her voice somewhat mumbled as she tried to speak.
"Certainly, my dear. She's in her room." She continued smiling hesitantly as she stepped aside to let her in. "Dinner will be ready soon. Will you be joining us?"
"Thanks," Santana mumbled with a disengaged shrug as she walked to Quinn's room. Once inside and saw that Quinn was asleep so she just took off her shoes and crawled into the bed with her and cuddled into her body.
Quinn woke up slightly and blinked groggily at her. "San?" she mumbled, "What's going on?"
Santana tried to speak, but her words got muffled and she just pulled Quinn closer.
"San?" she whispered worriedly, waking up more and doing her best to roll over and cuddle her. "What's wrong?"
The darker girl just ran her fingers over Quinn's face, memorizing every inch of her skin. She blinked her dry eyes and tried to focus, but she couldn't she just relied on the feelings under her fingertips.
"Santana, you're scaring me," Quinn whispered, now fully awake. "Knock it off okay?"
"Missed you," She managed to get out as she cupped the girl's cheek and stroke it.
"You just saw me," she glanced at the clock, "three hours ago. What the hell is going on?"
"Got upset and smoked..." She said as her hand slid to rest over Quinn's heart, she smiled when she felt it beating, "Mi abuela used to say that heart is talking in morse code..." She rambled, "What's it saying?"
"I don't understand," she caught Santana's hand. "Why'd you get upset?"
"Got kicked out," She said, "Can tell me what your heart sayin'?" She asked as she looked up at Quinn.
"It's just beating, San," she whispered. "Why'd you get kicked out? What's going on?"
"Has to say something..." she whispered back, moving to lay her ear against her chest. She closed her eyes and listened to it and letting the sound muting the rest of her world.
"What's going on?" Quinn whispered, wrapping her arms around her and holding her close. "Please tell me. Tell me so I can fix it, San... please..."
"My daddy found out about Brown," She said, her voice all in one tone, "He tolds me to leave."
"What?" she gasped. "He kicked you out?! No way! Santana, he can't do that!"
"Yes he can," she said as she clung to Quinn's chest. "I don't have a family anymore."
"Yes, you do," she whispered. "You've got your mom and the squirt. You've got," she thought about it, "Brittany and Rachel..."
"You?" Santana said, "I just want you..."
"Of course me," she whispered, hugging Santana. "But... what about college? You're still going to Brown?"
"I don't wanna talk bout that..." She sniffled, "Talk about your heart... I wanna know what it says... You keeps it so hidden."
"It doesn't say anything," she shook her head. "It's just my heart. It just beats, San. It doesn't talk..."
"It does!" She countered, "Mine does... So does yours. It has secrets and holds parts of your soul."
"That doesn't make any sense, Santana."
Santana's face furrowed and she rolled away, "Okay... You don't have to tell me. Someday, you'll tell me about your heart."
"What's to tell?" Quinn asked, her face scrunched up in confusion. "Where's all this even coming from? I don't get it. Are you asking if I'm sick? Cause... as far as I know I'm not..."
"No... I just wanna know what you feel," she said, looking dizzy and pale. "I think I smoked too much."
"I think you did too. You're really worrying me," she murmured, brushing Santana's hair back. "How can we make this better?"
"I didn't mean to smoke so much..." She sniffled as she nuzzled the girl's neck. "You smell good."
"I'm glad. Do you need coffee?" she looked confused, blushing slightly. "Will coffee even help? Or maybe a bath or something?"
"Wish you could bathe with me," she said as she sat up, "I should bathe... Is it okay?"
"Yeah, come on," she added, levering herself out of bed and into her chair, "Find yourself something to change into and I'll help, okay? You are way too high to be left alone in a tub."
Santana nodded and listened to her feet padding against the floor as she followed Quinn into the large bathroom. She held onto the counter and sighed as she heard the water start. "Don't hurt yourself."
"I'm not the one you need to worry about," Quinn pointed out, leaning back. "Do you need me in there with you? Cause Mom might have something to say about that."
The drugged girl stripped herself bare and shrugged. "What?" she asked with a tilt of her head.
"What indeed," Quinn murmured, pulling her eyes away with a blush. "Get over here so we can get you in the tub and I can fill it up, naked girl."
"I look better now?" she asked softly as she rested her hand on her stomach.
"Better is," she swallowed, her cheeks red as she continued looking away, "one way to put it. Get in the tub already."
She pouted. "I want you to think I look good," she said as she stepped into the tub then plopped down.
"You look good," she nodded, her cheeks still hot as she closed the door and reached over to close the drain so the tub could fill. "You look amazing. But my mom is like right down the hall and really not appropriate. Okay?"
"Oh... Sorry," she mumbled and put her knees to her chest, not realizing she was exposing more of her intimate body parts, while covering her top. "You don't have to stay."
"Yes I do, don't be ridiculous," Quinn scoffed, rolling over to get Santana a towel from the closet. "I just don't wanna get caught staring at my naked best friend by my mom. A little too awkward before dinner."
Santana giggled, and slid to sit in the deeper part of the tub off the seat, "Warm... Not as warm as the tubbie earlier. But it was better cause you were in it."
"You just want me naked in there with you," she teased with a fond smile, adjusting the temperature a bit warmer for her before cutting it off when the water hit her upper chest. "Want something really fun about this tub?"
She looked up, looking like a cartoon character with how wide her eyes were, "Yeah!"
Quinn laughed then reached over and turned on the whirlpool jets. "How's that?" she asked with a smirk as the water started rippling around Santana.
She smiled and relaxed, "I like it, thank you..."
"Good cause we got to sober you up a bit before dinner," she smirked, reaching over to run her fingers through Santana's hair. "Want me to wash your hair?"
"No, but will you brush it later?" she asked softly, her body starting to come down from the levels of high she was at to a more manageable level that she was used too.
"Definitely. You're going to stay with me tonight too, right?" she asked, continuing to gently massage her scalp.
"Don't have anywhere else..." she sighed, "Will Judy be okay with it?
"Yeah, she won't mind," she shrugged. "I think she's still guilty for letting Dad kick me out when I was pregnant."
Santana nodded and washed her face, "I... I don't know what I'm going to do." she said softly after a few minutes.
"You're gonna work your ass off, graduate with honors like me and then we're going to the East Coast and kicking ass at college," Quinn pointed out. She spoke like it was fact, like it'd already happened and there was nothing to worry about.
"I guess..." she sighed and rubbed her eyes, she washed her hair then rinsed it before taking the towel that she was offered when she was getting out. "Think I'm good enough to have dinner?"
"You going to eat?" she teased gently, making sure the water drained. "Cause you know she'll be hurt if you skip on us."
"I can try... I've been doing better," she said as she headed back to Quinn's room and sat on the edge of the bed. She took the towel off once Quinn closed the door and dried out her hair.
Quinn rolled over to her closet, finding a pair of pants and shirt for Santana to wear. "I know you have and I'm incredibly proud of you for working so hard, so don't backslide now just cause your dad's an ass, okay?" she asked as she set the closet on the bed beside Santana and moved to get her a pair of underwear. "You okay with my panties?" she teased. "Or you want your old ones?"
"You just want me in yours," She said, "But all my clothing reeks of weed..." she stated as she pulled on the underwear and pants. She waited until her hair was dry before pulling on the shirt. "I do enjoy not having to wear a bra though..."
"Um, okay," she trailed off, confused by the apparent non sequitur. "I think Mom's making beef stew and salad for dinner. Is that okay with your crazy Berry diet?"
"I can eat salad," she said, "I'm not to eat meat since my body can't process the fat without making me sick."
"How about bread?" Quinn asked curiously, transferring herself back on the bed behind Santana with her brush. "Maybe just a little piece? It's her garlic bread and I know you used to like it."
"Your arms are getting really amazing," Santana commented, "I like it..." she got distracted by the girl's muscles for a minutes before turning back to her thoughts, "Oh... I can try some."
"Someday these arms will be less amazing cause these legs," she slapped a hand against her thigh, "are gonna be doing all the work again. Come on, let me brush your hair out."
Santana leaned back and relaxed as Quin brushed out her hair. "Can you hold me while we sleep tonight?"
"Sure," she agreed easily, running the brush over her damp hair. "Not like I can run away right?" she teased.
"True," she smiled. "Thanks, Q," she whispered softly as she reached back for the girl's hand.
Quinn squeezed it gently. "Anytime, Santana. That's what friends are for, right?"
"Mmhmm," she smiled softly and tried to not think of everything that happened just a few hours before.
"Come on," she hugged her, setting the brush down. "Let's go have dinner and then watch some trashy tv before bed. How's that sound?"
"Good," she nodded as they got up and headed out to find Judy.